Ethenbe, located in the sector -8, -6, was a system amongst many other independent frontier systems and its only difference to those others was that it was a dictatorship, which was rather rare in the modern realm, and under the Federal interdict, forbidding anyone from entering the system. It was one of the mere five systems with commercial spaceports that suffered from this interdict. All those five systems were dictatorships with a political outlook totally different from that upheld by the Federation, and in most cases, although not in Ethenbe's, the one characteristic that had earned them the interdict was that they violated the sanctity of the local ecology and indigenous life. This was against one of the basic principles that had motivated the birth of the Federation in the first place and thus a major idiosyncrasy of the morals of the federal citizenry in general.

In that light, the distaste that Marcan felt when he looked at the local System map and the Information screens that Castor's database provided was understandable. It was not understandable to Luke, however, and the boy looked at him curiously as they studied the data on the computer screen.

"Why are you looking like that?" the boy asked.

Marcan glanced at the boy uncertainly. He realised how he must have seemed, and he realised that he could not just say it to the boy bluntly. The people on Tiessar 2 had most likely taken part in similar crimes as those in Ethenbe system. "I'm just thinking of what those people who stole the Polydeuces did to the other in that Boa," he lied. He had told Luke the whole story during the few hours that they had spent together while travelling to Barnard's Star system. They had travelled there by three consecutive jumps, the last only a short jump from Sol system to there. Because of the illegal cargo of radioactive waste, the product of the military drive, Marcan had wanted to avoid getting into the local criminal record. If he had still been in active military duty, there would have been other, non-commercial bases, where they could have landed in the Sol system, but now it was simplest just to avoid the system altogether. It would be another three or four jumps before he reached the Ethenbe system, but he had been reading about it while waiting for them to dock on one of the local space stations.

His reason to choose precisely Barnard's Star to buy another full cargo load of military fuel was simply that there were some of the best shipyards to buy a new ship from. If they found one that fitted into Luke's price range, the extensions of which Marcan had not asked about yet, it would mean that the two of them would continue on their separate ways. It was also the perfect system because it was the other end of one of the safest trade routes in the human space and he wanted to have Luke get an easy start for his new life. A few weeks or months of trading would probably make the boy to return to his studies, and if it did not, at least he would have earned some money to fund that new life.

"What are you planning on doing to them once you find them?" Luke asked after a while.

Marcan smiled, "I don't know yet. I think I will want to make them explain their actions to me first. If I don't like them, I will simply get them to justice. My main purpose is naturally to get Castor and Polydeuces back together."

"You find it so important?" Luke asked.

Marcan frowned. He had told the story to the boy, but it seemed that he had not stressed the fact that Castor had practically saved his life enough. "I owe it to Castor, Luke. He saved my life and I promised to find his brother for him as a way of thanking him for that," he explained.

Luke laughed, "But it's just a computer! And it did not save you; it just happened to be there for you!"

Marcan turned to look at the boy with his most serious expression on his face. He was not a beautiful man to start with and when he was angry, it really showed on his face. Many young pilots had wet themselves when subjected to his wrath. "Boy! If you are going to make your career in the space, you'll have to learn to pay back your debts to anyone and anything that happens to help you! It is rare in this trade to find someone who is not just looking after his own dirty little ass, but when you do, you owe it to your honour to remember their services. Without the occasional honourable friend, you'll be totally alone out there and you will die all alone! No one will remember you the way you remember your father!"

Luke was visibly shaken by his attitude, if not by his words and fell quiet after nodding to indicate that he had understood. Marcan glowered at him for a few seconds before turning back to the computer to study the system of Ethenbe. The first planet of the system, New Brazil, was a small sustained terraformed world, which meant that it would not stay terraformed without constant technological intervention. At its 0.11 Gs it was very understandable. Normally such small gravity would not hold the molecules necessary for life. In addition to the outdoor world, there was also another inhabited planet as well as two space stations orbiting around the two planets. The station orbiting New Brazil, Denver Terminal, was one of the gigantic orbital cities, while the one orbiting Brett Rock was only a trading post. He wondered in which one of those he would find the lost ship and the six murderers led by Victor Shelanko. He remembered the man's face from the report that he had received a little before he had gone and blown Mr Jones's seaside house into smithereens.

What those six people had done on the Boa before their escape was something that needed to be settled, even after ten years. Whatever the reasons for their behaviour were, they would not be enough to justify their killing Professor Bardoff and the rest of the Boa's crew. And the fact that they had made sure to disappear from the public eye confirmed that it had not been just a difference of opinion and a fight between the members. It had been a cold-blooded murder, proved also by the fact that the criminals had gone through the trouble to poison the ship's air supply.

When they had docked onto the Boston Base, Marcan contacted the local shipyards and their selection of ships appeared to their computer screen. It was not a long list, but almost all of the ships were one-man ships and as such suitable to Luke. If none of the ships satisfied the boy, they could always visit the other spaceports in the system and see what they had to offer.

He pointed at the screen and drew Luke's attention to it by saying; "Luke. I have here the list of local ships for sale if you are sure you want to purchase one."

Luke, who had still been avoiding him after his small heated lecture, turned around and looked at him and the list of ships. "I'm sure, commander. But I know little of these ships. What would you recommend?"

Marcan pursed his lips, "That depends on how much money you have to spare."

Luke rolled his chair closer to him and showed him a pile of money cards. "This is all the money my father and I had, as well as the money the Federal Military gave me for my help, such as it was. It mounts up to about 80 thousand."

Marcan whistled. He would not have been caught carrying such sums on his person, but, then again, he had not been forced to live in the primitive frontier world where the Inter-sector -banking systems were not available. "I take it that you'll need to spare something for the trading itself and to equip your ship," he said. "So we are searching for a ship that costs about fifty thousand, or seventy at the most. If you keep to the safe systems, you won't need much in the way of weaponry and can afford a bigger ship and earn money quicker by stripping all the unnecessary equipment."

"What do I need?" Luke asked.

Marcan frowned. It had been a long time since he had last had to worry about equipping a ship from a scratch. He eased his job by bringing up Castor's equipment list on another screen. "You'll need the atmospheric shielding, of course, and the automatic pilot, scanner and the navigation computer. Perhaps also the automatic refueller. They will cost about 2500 credits, and take circa four tonnes of space. If you want weapons and other necessary equipment, they will cost a lot more."

When Luke did not object to his decision to leave out the weapons, Marcan turned his eyes back to the ship listing. The only ships that stayed inside the price range were a Merlin, the type of ship that Luke had already seen being used at the military Mantis Transport, and a Spar Attack Fighter and an Adder. The last two actually cost a little more than the 70 thousand limit, but not much. In a tight spot, he could always buy the first load of cargo for the young man himself. He told the boy what he thought of the ships, noting that the Merlin and the Spar were mainly fighters whereas the Adder was more suitable for a trader.

The obvious recommendation in his words did not escape Luke, but when Marcan conjured up the visual image of the Adder to the screen, the boy groaned. Marcan smiled and showed him the two other ships as well. Because they were fighters, they were also much sleeker in their appearance and thus more palatable to a young man. He tried to convince the boy that to use a fighter for trading was more or less frowned upon by many, but it did not change the boy's mind and he went for the Spar.

In Marcan's opinion the Spar was the better choice because of its slower acceleration. For a new pilot it would give fewer opportunities for suicide by simple piloting errors. He would not have liked to fly it himself, for the very fact that he liked fast ships with superior manoeuvrability.

"When you have earned some money," Marcan said to Luke as they were preparing to buy the Spar for the young boy, "you might be wise to start looking for a custom mid-class hyperdrive. You don't really need a jump range of over 24 light years if you are just going to trade. Actually, if you are going to follow my advice and spend some time on the Sol – Barnard's Star route, you could even downgrade to a class 1 hyperdrive with 6ly range and free even more space for cargo."

After a few more tips had been given, Marcan and Luke bought the Spar for the young man. Eager to get his hand on his first ship, the boy said goodbyes to Marcan rather fast after the newly purchased ship had been transported to another landing bay nearby. Marcan smiled as he shook the young man's hand and wished him good luck. And he truly wished that the boy might survive in the harsh world, after all, it would prove something of his own teaching skills. Of course, the few lessons had not been enough to teach the boy all the tricks that he was going to need. However, there was a surprise aboard the Spar for Luke that Marcan had secretly arranged to be transported there while the boy had been discussing with the local ship dealer. In the Castor's cargo bay he had had a small package holding one of the military training simulators and before Luke got to his ship, it would be installed and ready to teach the boy further with a few specially designed programs that Marcan had programmed into its memory banks.

So, with a knowing smile, he shook the boy's hand and let him run eagerly towards the new fighter. After Luke had left the landing bay, Marcan returned to the pilot's seat and began the transactions that would get the radioactive waste from his cargo bay and replace it with a new load of military fuel. He also sold all unnecessary pieces of equipment in order to fit in so much military fuel that he would not have to waste time refuelling again until he reached Ethenbe. He did not know whether he could get a decent amount of military fuel at that system when he got there, but he trusted that someone would be willing to sell it, even if they asked a bit steeper price for it.

He had decided to go directly to Ethenbe and not visit the sector where he had left the wanted massage about the lost ship, because he feared that when the word of that message reached the criminals, they might bolt and escape before he reached the system. He hoped to reach the system before the word of his intent got there.

As he noted that everything was ready for the final leg of their travel, he said to the ship AI; "Castor, it seems that we will find your brother very soon now."

"Yes, commander, I am happy to see that my long wait seems to come to an end finally," the AI said.

Marcan mused for a moment, before he said, "Castor, what will happen after we have found Polydeuces?"

"What do you mean, commander?" Castor asked.

"What I mean, Castor, is that what will you want to do next? What do you want to be done to the people who took your brother from you and killed Bardoff?" Marcan asked.

"Commander, nothing important will change, as far as I know. I don't even care what happens to the people who took my brother, but I believe you have taken a mission from the Bardoff's Trust Fund to bring them to justice," Castor said.

Marcan nodded. He remembered the deal very well. The Trust Fund had promised him 15000 credits if he brought the criminals to justice and got back the stolen ship. However, Vera Industries had promised more than six times as much for the ship alone. It was a case of conflicting interests that he had to solve at some point. But before that, he had to concentrate on finding the ship and getting it back from the criminals. Before he did that, he promised himself not to worry about what he would do afterwards.

A bit later than a month since he had left the Mantis Transport and a couple of weeks after parting with Luke; Marcan arrived to the system of Ethenbe. From his own viewpoint, and from the point of view of his ageing, the travel time had been only a few days, mainly the days he had spent approaching the Barnard's Star spaceport and transacting for goods there. Another few days he had to spend approaching the orbital city at New Brazil, Denver Terminal. He guessed that it would be the most populated place in the whole system, since it orbited the terraformed world. He assumed that he would find the Polydeuces either there or at the planet itself.

The FMI had not revealed him the name of their local agent, the man who had seen the ship brought in several years ago, but they had promised him that he would be contacted in a couple of days once he reached one of the cities.

Marcan had to conclude after a day of travel towards the inner planets that the Ethenbe system seemed to be a quiet system as far as piracy went. Apart from a few trader ships that he had spotted jumping into the system, and some mining craft orbiting the gas giant that he had passed, there were no suspicious ships, such as Kraits or Sidewinders. He had to admit to himself that it was not what he had expected from such a disreputable place.

His surprise was even greater when he spotted several Long Range Cruisers in the vicinity of the orbital city. The vast 16000-tonne ships, when in actual use, carried class 12 hyperspace engines that were unavailable to the public as a rule, as were the ships themselves. Many of the LRCs that were commonly seen around planets were actually just empty hulls, used as storage hulks and private cities by the very rich, but Marcan's Radar Mapper revealed that one of the LRCs that orbited the Denver Terminal actually carried the rare hyperdrive. He wondered who could be rich enough to actually purchase a fully functional version of that gigantic ship.

With a slight frown at the immense ships as he passed them, Marcan requested a landing clearance from Denver Terminal. He received it immediately and proceeded to take his ship towards the orbital city. He pondered how long it would take for him to find out anything about the stolen ship that he was looking for.

Denver Terminal was one of those big space stations that professed four separate rotating sections attached to the central piece, which contained the necessary docking bays, storage halls and the shipyard. It was not the biggest of orbital cities, but it was big enough to house half a million citizens. It was a large population and big enough for Victor Shelanko and his band to hide amongst. Thinking that he was now close to finding the people who had killed Professor Bardoff and the rest of his crew, reminded him of the day he had found the dead ship floating in the space. For him it felt that not much more than two months had passed since that day, and in fact he had not aged more than that, but in the rest of the universe more than nine months had passed. It was long enough for him to hope that Victor Shelanko and his band had forgotten about the news of the return of Bardoff's ship.

Once inside the vast orbital city, Marcan left Castor in the landing bay and walked to the elevators. Since the central portion of the station did not rotate fast enough to have gravity induced by the centrifugal force, its corridors were equipped with artificial one. The transport shuttle-elevators, although they all seemed to be oriented in the same way at the central station, turned into impossible angles once they got out of view to get the passengers into any one of the four city districts that they wanted to get to.

Marcan studied the orbital city map before he chose where to go. He knew that usually these kinds of stations were built so that every district belonged to different accommodation classes, ranging from economy to luxury. Also, the economy meant that that particular district would at worst be no better than a crime infested slum. Since Marcan had no doubt that the people he was hunting carried enough cash to live in one of the better districts he chose the second class for his first stop.

He entered the appropriate shuttle-train carrying only the barest necessities that he expected to need: his military datapad, the wrist-communicator to keep in touch with Castor, the Sergam-10 laser pistol, a change of clothing and two money cards. He was still wearing his pilot's jacket, but intended to change into something less distinctive once he had acquired a room from some hotel. He would not have been able to get into the better districts carrying his side arm, but in the two lower ones weaponry was deemed one of life's necessities and as such allowed for visitors.

As the shuttle lowered him and the other passengers to one of the rotating and circling sections, the gravity created by the Centrifugal effect increased by the moment until the artificial gravity was turned off and they all found themselves in near Earth gravity. To Marcan, it felt the same as any other manmade ship or station. Originally it might have been meant to make people feel like home wherever they went, but in these days less and less people were actually born on planets which had a natural 1-G environment. Marcan had been brought up on Mars where he had spent much of his time outdoors in the natural 0.38 gravity.

When the shuttle-elevator had travelled inside the second section, the walls around them turned transparent and let them see the city that they were descending into. Marcan had visited several space stations since his visit to the bubble station when he had been chasing Emic Troy, but none of them had offered such natural beauty as the inner world of the bubble had. Despite the few parks and green areas, the orbital cities were usually just that: cities packed full of tall buildings. Space was a precious thing in the space, and the commercial stations could not afford to waste it to vast fields and forests.

Also, the view that opened around the descending shuttle-elevator was far less spacious that the one Marcan had seen inside the bubble-world. The four rotating districts offered only narrow rectangular living areas against their outer hulls, less than 400 metres wide and a little over 1.5 kilometres long. The both far ends of the rectangular city rose above the 'horizon' and appeared into his field of vision little by little as the vessel descended lower towards the middle part of the city district.

Before the shuttle-train reached the street level, it followed the transparent tube that it travelled inside into a large but low two-storey high building. Inside, there was the local shopping mall with multitudes of small and large shops and restaurants in view. Marcan spotted also a few ads of the latest DreamWare movies as well as a few for the conventional 3-D movies. The place was filled with people; most of them young since the adults were still working at this time of the day, and some low-grade androids. The androids were recognisable as such only because they had the standard metallic skin texture and he could not be sure how many human-like androids mingled in the crowds in addition to them. He was sure that there weren't many, though, since this was a frontier system and the more expensive androids were unlikely to travel there. Certainly there were fewer of them here than humans disguised with make-up as metal-skin androids, some of whom Marcan saw as soon as he stepped out of the shuttle-elevator. He shook his head at this ages-old aberration in fashion and made his way from the centre of the mall towards one of the main exits. He could not think of anything he would need to buy from the mall and therefore he tried to leave it behind as quickly as he could.

But he was stopped before he could escape the masses. One of the many androids appeared in front of him and smiled at him with his pale blue imitation lips and looked at him with his pale yellow mechanical eyes. "Commander Rayger!" the android exclaimed.

For a fraction of a second Marcan stood there, his facial expression turning towards a definite frown before he recognised the tin-man in front of him. It was a feat that boggled his mind since the Denver Station at Ethenbe was the last place in the galaxy where he would have expected to meet the android again.

"Petr! What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I was waiting for you, Marcan," the android answered.

Marcan frowned and looked around. In the large crowd they could certainly not be heard by anyone even with the best surveillance technology and he doubted that he would be unlucky enough to have one of Victor Shelanko's people in the same mall at the same time with him and Petr. But the fact that Petr had known about his arrival made him more careful.

"We'd better get to somewhere more private before we speak of anything important," he said, surveying the crowd around them.

Petr nodded, "Yes. I take it that you were heading outside?"

"Yes," Marcan said. "I was going to find myself a place to stay for the next few days."

"There is one rather nice hotel nearby where I've got myself a decent accommodation. I can take you there if you like?" Petr said.

Marcan agreed to that and they ventured outside into the streets of the city district. Since fast travel routes from one end of the rectangular district into the other were provided by standard underground bullet-cars, the open areas were freed for the pedestrians. People were walking to and from the main shopping mall and along the streets. There were also coffee-terraces on the street-level and other restaurant establishments on the second-storey balconies. As it were, almost all of the tables at those places were occupied and there were plenty more idle people sitting on stairs and on other benches along the streets, and thus the so-called outdoors were not any more private than the shopping mall had been.

Marcan and Petr found their way through the crowd and crossed the main street to get to the hotel that the android had got his room from. It was a five-storey building with a small green garden around it and some bushes and trees were growing on vegetation balconies higher-up. Marcan appreciated the attempt to bring some natural beauty into the orbital city, but he also recognised the futility of it; surrounded by the other dull grey buildings, the hotel accomplished only in looking corny. It failed to evoke any sense of beauty in Marcan and he was merely reminded of the vast natural surroundings of the bubble- colonies he had visited over a year ago in real time. Even less the present view could attain the natural beauty of Tiessar 2, the garden world.

Recognising in himself the growing need to get out of the spaceships and space stations for a while, Marcan promised to himself to find some time for himself after this mission and visit his parents in the Sol system. He needed some time to relax after all the excitement. Then he remembered the black ships and the people who called themselves the Sentinels. That was something that he also wanted to put some of his energy into and explore before the leave. He shrugged and promised himself to consider the vacation again sometime in the future.

Then they climbed the few grand stairs to the hotel's main entrance. With a slight amused frown, Marcan read the name of the hotel that was written in green letters above the doorway.

Once inside the Verdant Meadows hotel, they walked directly to the reception desk and Marcan booked a room from the reception droid, paying for the three days in advance as was required by the hotel policy. Then they walked to the plain elevators and got to the third floor. After a short survey of the corridors and the environment, Marcan decided that the place seemed clean and well taken care of and as such probably offered a safe haven from the possible criminal element in the district.

His room was a small one, a living area of about ten square metres and a tiny bathroom, but that was what he had got used to on Castor and other spaceships and knew not to expect anything more. He placed his few belongings on the bed and removed his pilot's jacket. Then he sat down on the bed and invited Petr to take the only chair. The android did so and looked at Marcan seriously.

Marcan looked back at him, and asked, "How did you know that I was coming here?"

The android smiled, "I heard of your message on the public boards. I guessed that as you are searching for another ship like Castor, you are probably going to find out more about Argo II, the Boa that we found together."

Marcan nodded, "And I take it that you are as intrigued by the fate of that ship as I am?"

The android smiled, "Well, yes, kind of. Actually, I have not succeeded in the trading business as well as I hoped for and thought that if this mission of yours is going to get me as much fame as the previous one got for you, I might do better in the future."

Marcan smiled slightly. As a co-pilot, Petr had not reached the news after they had come back from the Boa, but now as an independent trader, he might get luckier. "Have the people from Vera Industries contacted you?" he asked, remembering his conversation with Alana Vera.

The android nodded his human-like, but metallic coloured head, "Yes, they did. I have not answered them yet. As I told you, I have had enough of being a mechanic at some shipyard."

Marcan nodded again, forgetting the little side step in their conversation and returning to the main topic. "I understand that you must have contacted someone who offered the information that I called out for, but how did you know when to expect me and that I would be coming to this particular station and city district?"

The android smiled happily, "That was not hard! I know you for a man who does not show off his fortunes and that you'd find lodging in either this district or the worst one. The way I was able to be at the mall waiting for you, I had tapped into the local flight control's systems and placed in a program that alerted me immediately when your registration code was entered into the system. And, as far as the station is concerned, the informant that I paid a thousand credits to, said that he knew someone who had seen the small ship at this Denver Terminal."

Marcan frowned in sudden alarm; "The fighter has been seen at this station? When was that?"

His own information from the military had mentioned only that the local agent had seen the ship coming into the system, but not that it had been actively in use after that. If indeed Victor Shelanko, who had been the only officer amongst the criminals and thus the only one with the access to the hidden landing bay, or one of his crowd had been flying the ship openly in this system, they probably deemed themselves either very safe or highly capable of taking care of anyone who came after them.

Petr shrugged, "He did not know exactly. He just said that someone had seen the ship at the shipyard or one of the warehouses here and had wondered why it was not used any longer."

"So it was not out in the open?" Marcan asked.

"Not as far as I was told. It was seen abandoned or discarded somewhere," Petr confirmed. "I have been asking around for it for the past few weeks, but no one seems to have heard of it."

Marcan frowned. If Petr had been asking around for Polydeuces, there was a possibility that Shelanko or one of his partners had heard about it. They could have gone deep underground and it might be impossible to find them now. Still, even if Petr was good with the computers and ships, Marcan still had the advanced FMI knowledge of data systems. The sniffer-programs that he still had in his possession after the Tiessar mission, where he had never actually needed them, might find some clue from the local computer network even if the criminals proved to be impossible to be found by the ordinary means.

"You searched all the districts?" Marcan asked.

Petr shook his head, "Only the three cheaper ones. I don't have enough money to get around in the elite district, let alone to pay to the informants."

Marcan grimaced. He had no doubt that Petr's search had been good enough to find the missing ship if it had been there. Money talked and someone was always willing to sell what he knew for some of it. The only reason that Petr had not been able to find the ship thus far, had to be that it was not there to be found, or that the warehouse was so well closed that no one had seen inside it in years. Unless the ship had been smuggled out of the station unseen or dismantled or any number of other kinds of things that could make it unrecognisable to anyone but the expert.

The elite district was an improbable place for the ship to be in, since there the housing and storage rooms were so expensive that storing a ship for several years could drain even one relatively wealthy. Victor Shelanko had surely got away with a lot of money and luxuries when he had ran away from Argo II, judging from the golden death mask that they had found on Professor Bardoff's face, but he would be fool to waste them into storing the unused ship.

"How did you access the local computer network to find out about my arrival?" Marcan asked then.

Petr tilted his head and blinked his mechanical eyelids twice before answering, "The normal way, through the hotel room data-system."

Marcan nodded, "I'll try something more sophisticated to find Polydeuces." He picked up his datapad from the bed beside him and turned it on with his private security access code. The military issue datapad was capable of forming several simultaneous wireless connections with the local network and he made it so immediately after connecting it to Castor's mainframe in similar manner. He initiated the programs that he had on the datapad and entered what little information he had of the small ship as well as a search string for storage rooms and buildings that had been on rent for over seven years to the same client. He also included searches for the personal IDs of the missing criminals and their pictures. They had probably altered their appearance over the years, but he decided to try every trick he could think of.

What he had done thus far was something that he could have done with an ordinary datapad with proper programs. But now Marcan started another one, a true encroacher-program that was able to break through most of the encryption code systems and guard programs that were available to the public as well as establish connections to datapads that were turned off at the moment and unconnected to the network. He programmed it to search for private journals and databases for the same information as the other programs.

After he had done all that, he sent a written and encrypted message to Castor and told him to keep a track on his datapad and analyse all the information that the programs found. The programs would require him to keep the datapad on for the next several hours, since the local network covered all the planets and bases in the system and it would take time to search it all, but that was not a problem to him. He would have to pay a slightly larger connection payment when he left the system, but if he found the missing ship and the criminals, it would be well worth it.

Petr had watched his activities with interest and when Marcan finally put the datapad away, the android remarked; "I see that you have acquired a new datapad."

Marcan tapped one final keystroke that blanked the datapad's screen although it was still running and looked back at the android. He wondered whether the computer-on-legs had recognised the military model or if his remark was just an attempt to make conversation. He did not wish for his remaining link with the FMI to be known by anyone but him.

"Yes," he said finally. "I upgraded into a more powerful system. It really took too long to analyse the data back at Argo II for my liking."

"How long until we'll know anything?" Petr asked.

Marcan shrugged. He wondered how big a portion the android was expecting to get for his part in all this. But he could not complain: he knew very well that when going against six people who had killed the entire crew and all the passengers of the Boa, he might end up needing any help he could get his hands on.

"It will be several hours, I think. The connection to the Ethenbe 2 is a slow one and I want to know everything I can before making my next move," he said.

"So, we have several hours to kill," Petr said. "Does your system require sleep, or shall we spend that time together?"

Marcan shook his head; "I slept onboard Castor on our way here. I could get something to eat, however."

Petr smiled and stood up, his faintly gloving eyes taking in the whole of the small room. "You'll not find anything to eat here. Let's go upstairs to the restaurant and we can exchange news while you eat."

"After we had gone our separate ways, I headed towards the Sol system," Petr said. "I expected to make some easy money on the safe trade routes, but learned that being an android of no repute does not cut you the best deals. I spent there a couple of months before returning to trade between the Lave and the Leesti systems. There I learned that someone had killed an important political figure at Lave." The android looked at Marcan meaningfully as the latter wolfed down his dinner.

Marcan had ordered a reasonably innocent-sounding item from the tabletop computer and when it had been delivered by the servant droids, he had found out that it was a simple variation of the good old chicken-sauce and rice. At least the white stuff looked like rice and the meat tasted like chicken. He noted the pause in Petr's story and looked up at him.

"I heard about it too. Mr Jones deserved anything that happened to him," he said simply.

Petr looked at him for a short while. Then he continued: "Yes, I agree. After all, he almost managed to kill us two. Anyway, I traded in the area for a while, but it was not profitable, because of the pirates and the repairs I had to do after those encounters. And I don't like killing anyone, so I tried to avoid the dangerous systems, which in turn practically cut my profit margins to near zero.

"Soon after that I heard about your message and then I saw it. I stayed around, waiting for anyone to answer to your message by an offer of information, and it did not take long for the first ones to come up. Around that time I received the offer from the Vera Industries and they told me that you had recommended me to them. I considered taking the position for a while, but the mystery that you were apparently after intrigued me more and that's how I'm here. After several useless answers to your message, there was finally one that brought me here," Petr finished around the same time as Marcan had gulped down the last trace of rice from his plate.

Marcan pushed the plate away and looked at the small screen on the tabletop. He touched his finger at the word 'desserts' and viewed the delicacies one by one in the small hologram display. He chose a filthy expensive piece of rum flavoured chocolate cake and set back on his chair to wait for it. The restaurant was located on the roof of the five-storey hotel, and their table was close to the edge, between two tall purple trees. The ceiling of the open area of the city district was still over fifty metres above them and there were some taller buildings around the hotel. The open space above them was a nice touch, though, since it gave the restaurant a surprising sense of spaciousness. The view of the streets below them was not as captivating though and one grew quickly bored at looking at the descending elevator-trains in the transparent tube that bore down to the large shopping mall in the next building.

When the chocolate cake arrived, Petr leaned forward. "May I take a bite?" he asked.

Marcan felt too lazy to manage a frown and instead he nodded. The android picked up the long, small spoon and took a small piece of the brown cake and took it to his sampling unit doubling as a mouth. He chewed the piece for a moment, and said, "It's pretty alright. It could have a little more of that rum, however."

The android handed the spoon back to Marcan and he took it. He remembered only now that the android had at some point after their first encounter told him that he liked to bake and cook things. He wondered why he had not remembered it before. It could have been useful to have someone in his ship who could make something more surprising than the dishes on his ship's kitchen autochef unit. He tasted the cake and saw that Petr was correct; the rum flavour was a bit too faint compared to the overbearing chocolate. His mother's cakes had been better.

"What have you been doing over these past few months?" Petr asked then. "To tell the truth, I expected to find you already here when I arrived."

Marcan chewed the cake and looked at Petr, wondering what he could tell. It would not do to reveal his past and present dealings with the FMI. The fact that they had not requested their datapad or special programs back from him, and actually he still had the FMI uniform aboard the ship, revealed that the military considered him still on their payroll. He was not free of them, and would not be for years to come. Unless he managed to disappear.

But since he could not reveal what he had really been doing for the past few months, he avoided having to lie too much and said, "I had some unfinished business in the Core Systems and it took me longer than I had expected. Mostly, I was searching for additional clues about Polydeuces and Victor Shelanko, which is the name of the man who led the murderous crew on the Boa. But I'll tell you what I have found out when we get back to my quarters. It's too open out here."

With that he enjoyed the rest of the cake and they chatted about unimportant things, comparing their feelings about the Denver Terminal and Petr told him all about his trips to the other districts. The poor district sounded just as horrible and dangerous as Marcan had feared that it might be, with murderous underground gangs and weak policing. The other district, just below in class to the elite one, sounded more pleasant though when Petr told him that there the buildings were a bit further apart and there was more place reserved for parks and enjoyment areas. He could only wonder what the elite class would look like and whether they would be required to go there at some point.

When they got back to Marcan's small room, he told the android what he had learned from the Bardoff's Trust Fund about the people they were looking for and about the ship itself. He told honestly the amount that he had been promised as a payment, but left out the fact that Vera Industries was willing to pay 100'000 credits for the ship.

After that, he felt a need to spend some time alone and Petr left him, going to his own quarters in the fourth floor. Marcan set back and took his datapad. Since the search-programs had not achieved anything yet, he turned his attention to the newspapers. He spent the next hour reading the various articles and then he slept for a while. There was nothing especially important for him to do until the sniffer-programs had finished their job, or until the local Federal Military agent contacted him.