ment for a comparatively minor data recovery job. Isn't
that a good deal?'
The Voth regarded him with one large, dark and
doleful eye and a stubby hexagonal lens unit that jutted
from the other socket. The biograft was part of a close-
fitting headpiece which wrapped around the back of the
skull and down around the hairy neck to join with an
odd body harness. It looked brown and shiny and had
beaded black tendrils running to the exoskeletal sheaths
that enclosed the Voth's arms. Yolog sat in a small
mobile chair whose metal framework spread out above
his head, a fan of interfaced tool housings, extensors
and component trays. The Voth seemed to be quadri-
plegic and Kao Chih would have pondered further on
this had his mind not been focused on the predicament
at hand.
'You are by far the most amusing Human I have ever
met,' Yolog said, his expressive lips twitching into a
half-smile. 'But this data recovery is not so minor - since
my own processors are fully occupied recodifying droids
for certain paying customers, I would have to rent time
on the Tagreli hubway which would require authenti-
cated fund transfer. I fear that I must decline your kind
offer to become my publicity agent.'
Despite his growing sense of desperation, Kao Chih
maintained his unflappable, business-like exterior, com-
plete with bright smile, even when the mech
Drazuma-Ha* began displaying in its nimbus a message
in Mandarin characters - Told you it wouldn't work -
Told you it wouldn't work - Told you it wouldn't
work - Told you it wouldn't. . .
'Thank you for your kind consideration, honourable
Yolog,' he said. 'Perhaps you could suggest an alterna-
tive method of payment?'
'I am not ungenerous, Human Kaachi,' said the Voth.
'I would be prepared to accept payment in kind, such as
any redundant or superfluous components from within
your singular mech.'
Kao-Chih stared at Drazuma-Ha*, expecting a
scathing response suitable to their surroundings, Yolog's
spare-parts store. It was a dingy hold full of shelves
crowded with defunct bots and droids, casings, effector
arms, power cores, and motility subassemblies, bins full
of supply connectors, servos, processor nodes, handler
units, and several wall racks on which a few large indus-
trial bots hung. Gloomy, grimy and smelling heavily of
oils, it was undoubtedly a droid graveyard.
'I have no superfluous components,' Drazuma-Ha*
said at last. 'The very notion is impolite.'
'I would be prepared to pay very well,' the Voth said,
his flesh-and-blood eye staring hungrily at the mech for
a moment before snapping back to Kao Chih. 'I will be
frank with you - the likes of such a machine have not
been seen in this vicinity for centuries.' He addressed
Drazuma-Ha*. 'Are you not a Strigida sentient drone of
the Ninth Iteration, fabricated during the final period of
the Salgaic Synerge?'
'Broadly speaking, you are correct,' said the mech.
'And broadly speaking, you are also lacking in cour-
tesy.'
Yolog gave an odd, harness-constricted shrug.
'Courtesy also has its price.' He looked back at Kao
Chih. 'A great shame - Strigida parts are highly sought
after.'
'Why?'
'The Salgaic Synerge was one of several promising
civilisations that were obliterated by the Uncog
Fecundemic, a replicating machine horde which erupted
from the Qarqol deepzone over ten thousand years ago.'
Kao Chih was fascinated. 'I've never heard of this -
what were they like?'
'Oh, typical dumb-smart machines - they all looked
the same, dark globes bristling with weapon spines, but
they came in all sizes, some large enough to be consid-
ered planetoids. They rampaged coreward for hundreds
of lightyears, destroying every opposing force, effacing
every inhabited world in their path until they reached
the Huvuun Deepzone, where they unaccountably
stopped. Every Uncog, whether in planetary orbit or
traversing hyperspace or engaged in battle, simply
halted as if switched off then began to disassemble,
entire fleets of the things turning into vast clouds of
debris. Unfortunately, they had by that time wiped out
the Salgaic Synerge, the Interim Qudek, and a dozen
other starfaring nations . . .'
'An interesting history lesson,' said Drazuma-Ha*.
'But scarcely helpful, since my components are not nego-
tiable.'
The Voth sighed.
'Your options are limited, Human Kaachi. The only
other medium of exchange that interests me would be
unusual cultural artefacts. Might you possess such
items?'
Kao Chih's thoughts raced, in his mind rummaging
through the personal effects in his holdall back on board
the Castellan. Unwashed clothing, hygiene flims, indoor
shoes, a woollen hat, a deck of cards (missing the Prince
of Veils), some pens, a notepad, pictures of his family, a
couple of book tabs (mostly adventure stories written by
Pyre exiles), and ...
He stopped and smiled.
'Most honourable artisan Yolog - do you like music?'
An hour and a half later, the three of them were seated in
the cramped cockpit of Yolog's cargo shuttle as it flew
towards the huge cluster of domes and esplanade docks
that was Tagreli Openport. Positioned at the pilot con-
sole, the Voth's head was bobbing in time to the music
emanating from the audiobuds he had in his long-lobed
ears. Removing one of them he turned to speak.
'Hmm, yes, very good, Kaachi, very good indeed, a
most intriguing range of styles and execution. Your
species appears to have dedicated a great deal of thought
and effort to this pastime, resulting in some fascinating,
hmm, product.'
'Do you have any favourites yet?' Kao Chih said.
'I'm not so keen on that electroniki you recom-
mended - very mannered and precise yet somehow
bloodless - but this rokinrol is, ah, crude, harsh and
fully alive, especially the Deep Purple, the Black Sabbath
and the Led Zeppelin.'
Kao Chih smiled and nodded. His wallet of music
tabs had been a last-minute addition back on the
Retributor, and had proved a wise one. After hearing a
selection of compositions from various eras, Yolog's
demeanour had changed markedly and he made an offer
which covered the cost of his services and increased their
store of hard currency.
'I had thought that your preferences would be the
other way round,' Kao Chih said.
'Matters of taste are scarcely fathomable, friend
Kaachi. Your electroniki is just the kind of thing my
brother Yash would find irresistible, but not the rokin-
rol. What is certain is that many of my contacts will be
eager to obtain entire suites of music once they have
h
eard a few samples.'
The Voth replaced his audiobud and went back to
monitoring the displays, head nodding, fingers tapping.
Outside, the immensity of Tagreli Openport was loom-
ing ever closer as Yolog guided the craft towards one of
the main esplanade docks. Kao Chih leaned towards
Drazuma-Ha* and in a low voice said:
'Have you learned any more about this place? Are we
safe?'
Soon after the corrupt course data brought them
here, the Castellan's comm system had managed to link
into the local dataplex, but only at a low level. They
knew they had arrived near Tagreli Openport but access
to almost anything other than ad-chains, job agencies
and product catalogues was restricted to secure idents.
So while the mech tried to glean background informa-
tion they posted a request for a data-recovery tech on
one of the agency hireflows and Yolog responded not
long after. The Voth's storage hold was part of an
ancient, demilitarised Indroma troop transport, a gigan-
tic hulk sitting in a parallel orbit to Tagreli's, along with
several other decrepit vessels converted for warehousing,
food production, manufacturing and even prisoner
detention.
'I have determined a few more details,' the mech said.
'Tagreli Openport lies at the border of three nations,
Sul, Weh-Alzi and Iroaroa, impoverished client states of
the Sendrukan Hegemony. The port is tightly controlled
by the Abstainers, a clan of very old Henkayans wholly
dependent on a combination of mechanised life exten-
sion and anti-agathic drugs. Tagreli operates ostensibly
as a neutral port open to anyone, but the Abstainers
know that the Hegemony is boss. And are we safe? -
well, if someone was looking for us it would not be
hard to find us. The sooner we conclude this commerce
and leave the happier I will be.'
Kao Chih nodded and looked round to see the bows
of an immense grey-and-green ship filling most of the
viewport. The vessel's entire forward section was long
and straight with a rhomboid cross-section, its flat prow
occupied by three large weapon ports, probably com-
posite beam cannons, he guessed. The flanks were
studded with more weapon clusters, domes and turret
mounts; the mid-section flared to the aft, which was
wide and Y-shaped, its corners tapering to three huge,
rotating weapons carrels while the main drive tubes
jutted from the stern. There was also battle damage,
scorching, broken and melted shield antennae, and hull
breaches around which repair drones and tekneers were
gathered.
'That's the Heshgemar-Kref,'' Yolog said. 'A
Chastiser-class Hegemony battleship. It's just back from
the Yamanon Domain, where it got into a skirmish or
two with the remnants of the Dol-Das regime.'
'What's that smaller ship?' Kao Chih said, pointing.
As the Voth's shuttle progressed the battleship's other
flank came into view, as did a second ship moored
nearby at the esplanade end of the great open hangar.
This one was roughly a tenth the size of the Heshgemar-
Kref and was all sleek, dangerous lines, as if modelled
after a sea or airborne predator, its long narrow hull
lacking obvious weaponry and sensors while slender
wings curved forward from the rear; the wings' leading
edges were open for repairs, exposing the extendable
weapon arrays. It was a lightly armoured vessel built for
speed and aggressive manoeuvrability, and its livery was
dark blue with silver highlights and a series of symbols
along its dorsal line.
'An Ezgara ship,' said Yolog. 'Ambusher-class,
almost certainly assigned as escort to the battleship. The
names of Ezgara vessels are seldom posted on the dock-
flows but this one has eleven kill sigils on its hull, which
means that it could be the Chaxothal, which was sup-
posedly responsible for the destruction of the Dol-Das
navy's flagship during the Yamanon liberation.'
Kao Chih had known little about the liberation of the
Yamanon Domain, beyond the fact that the invading
coalition included Earthsphere and the Sendrukan
Hegemony, and that the occupation had been dragging
on for nearly four years. Since embarking on his mission
to Darien, however, he had noticed many details, over-
heard scraps of conversation in public places or reports
on news channels, which gave the impression that the
occupation was very unpopular and provoking a grass-
roots insurgency rather than fostering peace and
reconciliation.
Then the shuttle's flightpath took it past the next
open hangar and Kao Chih's eyes widened. The vessel
moored there was gigantic, perhaps three or four times
the size of the Hegemony battleship. In shape it was like
a four-cornered, gleaming gold and red arrowhead set
on its side, its edges curving in to join with a massively
domed aft section, its surfaces bizarrely adorned with
creatures and figures, symbols and lines of characters as
well as great banners and flags. The bas-relief forms
were worked into the warship's exterior features:
mouths gaped around launch bays while beam weapons
jutted from eye sockets. The entire hull was a fabulously
baroque facade, as if enemies were to be awed into sub-
mission by its relentless ornamentation.
'Ah, yes, hmm, the Kbo-Maurz,' the Voth said. 'A
Brolturan ship, which they call a Strategic Offensive
Conveyor but it's really an ancient super-carrier built by
the Ufan Oligarchs during their war with the Sarsheni-
dominated Indroma nearly five hundred years ago.'
'Impressive,' Kao Chih said.
Yolog gave a little smile. 'Just so, and yet the flagship
of the Yamanon navy was produced by the same yard
around that time - it was a super-heavy carrier and was
twice the size of that one.'
Kao Chih blinked and looked at the Voth. 'And that
Ezgara ship ... it's practically a boat in comparison.'
'Yes, yes, but the Dol-Das regime was basically a
gang of incompetents - a quarter of that flagship's
weaponry was out of commission, fifteen of its seventy
decks were sealed off due to disrepair, and just four out
of its twelve launch bays had a full complement of close-
support fighters. Rumour has it that the Cbaxotbal
gained entrance to one of the disused bays and pro-
ceeded to blast a tunnel through the ship's interior to the
stern where it wrecked the drives and set a number of
charges. Once the Ezgaran ship left the way it had come,
the flagship was torn apart by several devastating explo-
sions.'
Teams of engineers worked all over the Kbo-Maurz's
glittering hull, which slid out of sight as the Voth's shut-
tle climbed towards a line of smaller hangars sitting on
top of the big ones. But Yolog steered past them and
through the slow traffic of ships and pilot-t
ugs towards
a tower around which other similar docks were spaced.
Staring at this tower, Kao Chih took in the wider view
and suddenly realised that Tagreli Openport had a
spoked-wheel configuration with each of the six spokes
ending in a secondary axis tower, and it was one of
those that was their destination.
Soon they were docking in what appeared to be an
access shaft for automated garbage scows. Yolog's craft
clamped itself to a recess in the shaft and a segmented
transit tube swung out, neatly settling over the shuttle's
airlock. Minutes later Kao Chih and an oddly quiet
Drazuma-Ha* were following the Voth into what he
called his 'business premises'. Ceiling arrays of coloured
lights came up to reveal a showroom with rows of pris-
tine-looking bots and droids. Wide double-doors led
into a well-equipped workshop where machines
hummed and odd-shaped displays showed strangely
blurred strings of data flowing in patterns, coils and
grids. Yolog blanked them with a gesture then moved
smoothly over to a terminal with a large, convex oval
screen.
'If you please, Kaachi, your course data.'
Kao Chih handed over a small memory crystal which
was swiftly slotted into a curved console with silvery
beadlike keys. Moments later datastreams began to flow
down the screen, with an inset showing analysis results
flowing left to right. Drazuma-Ha* was floating a few
feet away and Kao Chih was letting his gaze wander
around the workshop, the benches, the assembly rigs,
and the ceiling-mounted scanners, when the mech
spoke.
'Yolog, this equipment appears to be malfunction-
ing.'
The machine was hanging before a large sloping cab-
inet on which various lights and symbols were flickering.
'It is only a battery-charging stall,' the Voth said
without diverting his attention. 'Pay it no heed - the
cut-out will shortly ...'
A loud bang came from the cabinet and pieces of its
shell and sparks burst outward, showering Drazuma-
Ha*. The Voth cursed, turned from the silver keyboard
and sped along to the cabinet, reaching out with one of
his exo-supported arms to shut off the power.
'My good clients, I am deeply sorry for this unfortu-
nate accident,' Yolog said, moving in Drazuma-Ha*'s
direction. 'Are you damaged, most valued machine? Do
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