Even If You Dream

Even If You Dream
By Lewis Smith

Kienan Ademetria watched the readouts from his seat aboard the bridge
of the Silhouette, balancing a cigarette between the fingers of his
right hand. The freighter's mighty engines shook the hip as it pulled
free of the orbit of Kuran and made its way into open space.

Kienan tried to relax. After all, this was what he wanted. To be far
away from Kuran, to be far away from everything, to be able to
concentrate on nothing but work for once.

And for nothing else than to be far away from her.

Kienan sighed, shoving his long chestnut braid off of his shoulder and
behind him as he walked over to another terminal. His eyes scanned over
his travel logs for the hundredth time since he'd gotten underway. He
didn't have to, actually, Toriares had been good as his word. According
to Kienan's logs, he was a trader who had spent most of the last 9
months on a long haul through Khephren space.

Kienan looked at the rest of his readouts. His course was already laid
in for Ganymede colony, not too far from Earth. Unfortunately, even at
full Space Drive, it would take the better part of two days to get
there.

Kienan took a long drag on his cigarette. Moments like this he hated to
be alone with his thoughts, especially since they seemed to get louder
when he was alone.

* * *

"I'm telling you," the heavyset woman behind the counter of the liquor
store said firmly. "I'm telling you not to do this Kienan."

Kienan was looking at his pistol, and she couldn't tell whether he was
listening at all. He chambered a round in the pistol and slid it into
the concealed holster in his jacket.

"Why, Lil?" Kienan said. "For her?"

"No, goddammit," Lil said. "For you. She's gone Kienan. Let her go.
Move on and don't look back."

"She just ran away," Kienan said, looking away for a moment. "She wants
me to come and get her back. She wants me to come to her rescue, what
happened last month was just a tantrum."

"You sure that's what she wants?" Lil asked. She reached down behind
the counter, grabbing a bottle of old Earth scotch and two shot glasses
from under the counter. With practiced ease, she opened the bottle and
poured two shots, without spilling a single drop.

Kienan looked over his shoulder at the two shots. "Not thirsty," he
said, fumbling in his jacket pocket for a cigarette. He finally fumbled
one out, brought it to his lips and lit it, taking a short drag off of
it.

"Take it," Lil said. Her gray eyes regarded his emerald green gaze as
he turned to face her. He looks like an angel, she thought. But he's
just a devil in a white suit. "Please, Kienan. For old Lil."

Kienan let his cigarette dangle from his lips as he reached for the
shot. He held the glass up to the light, watching the amber liquid
within. Then he took the shot, downing it with practiced ease.

He looked down at the empty glass and then back up at Lil.

"This isn't just about Jayla, is it?"

* * *

Harlan Korpil kept stride with the blue-skinned man as best he could,
but apparently, his authority was a poor substitute for his colleague's
enthusiasm. They made their way down the halls of Omnicorp's Ganymede
research facility.

"Can't tell you how happy we are to have you with us to mop up this
project," Korpil said, his voice nasal and obsequious. "You come highly
recommended, Doctor Reficul."

The blue-skinned man turned and regarded Korpil with his burning red
eyes. "I do?"

"Matter of fact, you do. Your mentor, Doctor Sandoval, was a
trailblazer in the field of artificial humanoid creation. I understand
you're expanding the frontiers of that work."

"Sandoval was a visionary," Reficul said, his voice rich with respect
for his mentor. He ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his red
work suit. "I can continue his work, but I could never hope to exceed
his discoveries."

"Pity none of them survived," Korpil said, waving them through a
checkpoint. "I understand his three prototypes make Project: Eve look
like mere toys."

"I wouldn't know," Reficul said. "No one's ever seen them, aside from
Sandoval's family."

Korpil and Reficul stepped into a small alcove. The lights shut off and
there were several strobe flashes. They stood quietly for about a
minute, whereupon the lights came back on, the door before them slid
open, and they walked into the clean room.

Reficul's eyes narrowed on the three female forms lying in the capsules
on the other end of the room. "These are your . . .Marionettes?"

"Yes," Korpil said. "The blonde is Mary, the brunette is Miri, and the
redhead is Mara. They were supposed to be our first three production
models, well, until Dr. Gora had his . . . accident."

"His accident," Reficul repeated. "Don't you mean his suicide?"

Korpil looked shocked. "Not at all," Korpil said. "It was all in that
report you read. He got caught in the airlock cycle and blew up. An
accident. That airlock had given us a lot of trouble, and I'm very glad
we fixed it before we lost anyone else."

"Are you?" Reficul asked, his voice dismissive. He had been locked in a
shuttle with Korpil for the last eight hours, and to keep himself from
going insane under the repeated assault of Korpil's relentless chatter
he had catalogued every single lie he told him.
Eight hundred and nine, he thought. Never let it be said we Oneirans
don't have superb analytical minds.

"We here at Omnicorp like our researchers to feel safe," Korpil said.
"After all, there's still a few generations of humans for whom living
in space isn't second nature."

"Mmm," Reficul said. He walked over to a nearby terminal. "I assume I'm
cleared for all Dr. Gora's notes?"

"Of course," Korpil said. "Get what you can out of it and update
me."

"I will," Reficul said.

Korpil clapped his hands and looked around. "Soooo . . .anything you
need?"

Reficul stared at him wearily. "Peace. Quiet. Solitude. All of the
above?"

Korpil nodded and took his exit.

The doors slid shut and re-pressurized. Reficul turned to look at the
three women. They almost seemed to be sleeping.

* * *

Kienan lay in bed in his quarters, trying in vain to sleep, but sleep
wasn't coming. He was thinking about what had happened two nights ago,
about what Lil had said, and about what had happened when he had
ignored her warning.

He sighed, reached over to his bedside table and took his already lit
cigarette out of the ashtray. He watched the ceiling, searching the
grey metal for some answers, but of course it had none.

I'd be mad to expect any, wouldn't I?

He sighed again. He felt restless, but there was nothing to check or
double-check any more. He had done it already. Twice over. And he still
had a day to go.

"Damn it," Kienan said, rolling out of bed. He exited his spare
quarters and made his way down below decks. If sleep wasn't going to
come to him, he had a way of relieving his tensions.

He made his way to the very bottom of the ship, large room right next
to the artificial gravity generator. He tapped in some numbers on the
keypad next to the door and stepped in as the door slid aside.

The room was totally empty Kienan stepped into the middle of it and
ground out his cigarette. "Begin," he said.

Kienan immediately felt his body grow heavier as the gravity generators
increased the relative gravity to 2.5 gravities. Kienan ignored the
sudden feeling of heaviness and threw a punch. Then a kick. Then two
punches followed by two kicks. Then three punches, two kicks on the
same leg ending with a flying kick.

He smiled, sweat pouring off of his body. He pulled his loose red shirt
off of him and tossed it to the floor. His golden skin was already
soaked with sweat, every muscle on his body was tense, straining
against the crushing gravity.

Kienan kept training, moving faster and faster, pushing harder and
harder against the gravity.

* * *

The bottle of Scotch was well on its way to being emptied. Kienan felt
none of the shots he had taken. One of the advantages of living in
space all your life was that the human body synthesized oxygen much
more efficiently. However, it made getting drunk nearly
impossible.

Kienan looked at his watch.

"I'm telling you not to go," Lil said. "Stay here with me."

Kienan's brow furrowed in irritation. "Why are you so intent on me not
going?"

"Because you're not gonna like what you find when you get there," Lil
said, pouring herself another shot. "Kienan, I know you care for that
girl a lot. But--"

"Lil, I--"

Lil looked at him as she set the shot glass down.

"But she's not going to come back with you," Lil said. "She can't, not
anymore, and you're a fool to expect her to. You think she wanted this?
All she wanted to do was run away from you, and while she was running
and looking back over her shoulder, she wasn't watching where she was
going. And now . . .she's been swallowed up by something."

"Meaning what?" Kienan asked, suddenly impatient, and a little
stung.

"Kienan, she won't come back. She won't want to come back to
you."

Kienan took a long drag off of his cigarette. "Why? You're telling me
working Gao's place is her lot in life? The woman comes from a life of
privilege . . .she wasn't mean for this."

"Maybe not at first," Lil said. "But now she is. She's broken inside,
Kienan. The Rush, the . . .what's she's doing now . . .she's broken
inside her heart. And nothing you can do can fix that. I know you want
to try, I know every single piece of your heart aches to be able to fix
it, and be able to save her, but you can't. Not even someone like
you."

Kienan looked at her, then down at the counter. One last shot. Lil
pushed it over to him.

"You expect me to just take it?"

"No," Lil sighed. "I expect you'll go anyway. I did, once, and my
daughter's still there. Just like I used to be."

Kienan put down his cigarette and picked up the shot glass. "I'm
sorry," he said.

"Everyone's sorry for something," Lil said, putting a hand on his
shoulder.

Kienan powered back the shot and set it down, sighing.

"I'm going," he said.

"I know," Lil said.

"I have to know, Lil."

"I know you do," she said, pouring the last of the bottle into her shot
glass. "Just remember . . . the truth doesn't always set people
free."
* * *

Kienan stepped into the shower. The workout had helped, but it hadn't
cut into much time. He stripped off his jeans and turned on the water.
There was a hiss as the steaming water filled the shower stall. It had
been a luxury to have running water on a ship this small, but Kienan
figured it was worth it. Especially since he was rich enough to have it
installed.

He stepped inside, closing his eyes as the water washed over him. He
washed himself slowly, willing himself to only concentrate on the
moment. His muscles felt sore, but he felt invigorated all the
same.

He took a full ten minutes, then shut the water off, frowning upon
discovering that his braid was stuck to his wet back. He had forgotten
to undo it. He shook it loose and reached for his towel, patting
himself off and stepping back into his room.

Time to get dressed, he thought.

He put on his black bodysuit first. A remarkable invention, not just
because of the style, either. The suit was a layered crystalline armor
that was as light and flexible as fabric but was in point of fact some
of the toughest armor on the market.

He eased into his blue and red pants and slid on his black and white
boots, securing the kneepads as he did so. He stretched his arms wide.
He honestly felt a little tired, and Earth was still ten hours
away.

He pulled on his black gloves, pulling them all the way up to his
biceps, then securing them, wiggling his fingers to make sure it was
skintight. He didn't want to lose any dexterity, and given the nature
of his mission, he'd need it.

He looked down at his table and saw he still had his gloves to put on,
but not before he taped up his hands. He sat down in his chair and
looked from the table to the bed.

Ten hours, he thought. No hurry.

* * *

"Day Two, personal journal, Reficul, S.G." Reficul said, speaking into
a small device he was holding in the palm of his hand. "I can't believe
how close Gora's work was to Sandoval's and myself. These Marionettes
are a work of art. Despite their mechanized endoskeletons, these
machines have the ability to sustain biomass to such precise degree
that they have skin temperature, perspiration, they even react to
sudden changes in temperature.

"Truly, they are a work of art. Nowhere near as complex and
self-sufficient as Sandoval's Neo-Human model, but well above my own
limited work on the subject."

He looked at them again. He had spent most of the day downloading
library computer information directly into their brains. Upon
activating them, he had discovered they were quite eager to learn, like
a child thirsting to be taught.

And they learn fast, Reficul thought. Day One they mastered walking,
seventeen complex gymnastic routines and the proper placement of 30
pieces of silverware from 129 different races. Their brains have to be
at least six times the speed of a human's cognitive process and twice
as fast as my own.

Reficul put down his recorder and stared at them.

And Korpil wants me to find a way to create a stripped-down model. A
"less independent" version, I believe he said. Humans. So paranoid
about letting their machines, their creations, overtake them.

So unwilling to make a god in their image.

I'll do as he asks, Reficul thought ruefully. But I'll take the
Marionettes as payment. They'll allow me to build on Sandoval and
Gora's research. Let the Earthers have whatever scraps I pass along.
The real prize will leave Ganymede with me.

* * *

Kienan's eyes snapped open at the sound of the alarm. He rolled quickly
out of bed, and out of the room, grabbing his tape, his gloves, and his
gunbelt as he exited. He buckled his gunbelt around his waist as he
made his way up the stairs to the bridge. The buckles for the holsters
clinked and hung loose as he walked up the stairs.

The Silhouette came out of Space Drive on the edge of Pluto. The main
thrusters kicked back in as Kienan set course for Jupiter. He lit a
cigarette as he transmitted his code to the listening post on Charon
for clearance and headed for Ganymede.

He let the cigarette dangle from his lips as he taped his wrists. One
of his many mentors had taught him the value of the practice. For one
thing, it saved you from arthritis if you were an acrobat, for another,
it saved your knuckles for those unfortunate times when things got
violent.

And things always got violent in Kienan's line of work.

Kienan slid on his blood-red gloves, buckled them, and buckled his
holsters to his thighs, sliding his twin machine pistols inside and
securing them. He flicked off some of the cigarette's ashes into a
nearby ashtray as the ship rocketed past Saturn. Kienan felt a sudden
jolt of surprise as he flew past Saturn's rings. He suddenly realized
he had never gone any farther into Earth space than Titan.

He pondered on whether or not to buy a souvenir, but decided against
it. Making a hit in Earth space was too problematic to do anything but
get in, do the job, and get back out.

And given the bizarre nature of this job, he'd need all the time he
could get.

* * *

"Peace and good will brother, I am a man of God," the man in the white
robes said. His hands reached for the sky at the hard metallic click of
a gun being cocked.

"You damn near joined him," Kienan said. "And if you want to continue
serving the Lord, I'd advise against anything sudden, hasty, or rude. I
have a gun on you, and rare is the day I'm not itching to kill
someone."

"Where are you?" The man in white asked.

"Close enough," Kienan said, his smooth voice seeming to echo forever
in the concrete hallway. "I like this place. Nice and private. Good
place to squeeze off a few rounds and no one will hear. Now . . .why
don't you tell me who you are and what you want."

"My name is Joshua Duncan Sloane." The man in white stiffened, trying
in vain to hide his nervousness. "I . . .that is, my order . . .would
like you to commit an act of sabotage."

"That was direct," Kienan said.

"Honesty and righteousness are the watchwords of the Idyllists," Sloane
said, trying to keep himself from sweating.

"I know," Kienan said. "Can't tell you how many times your people have
pressed pamphlets to that effect into my hands. What's involved?"

"There is a corporation . . .on Ganymede . . ."

"There are lots of corporations on Ganymede," Kienan said.

"Omnicorp," Sloane sighed. "Omnicorp. They're creating a type of
artificial human, more advanced than the andriotics that they've been
creating. All the information should have been forwarded to you by now
by my brothers."

"And?"

"My order considers it a sin to make any machine in the image of man.
Because as God made us in His image, to make a machine in our image
without reckoning upon Him is an affront to--"

"Amen, brother," Kienan said, walking up behind Sloane and placing the
muzzle of his machine pistol against the back of his head. "Half up
front. Half when the job's completed."

Sloane fumbled in his white robes for the money slip. He nervously
offered it to whatever was behind him.

"God thanks you for doing His work," Sloane muttered.

Kienan snorted derisively behind Sloane. "God hasn't been on my side
for some time. But cheer up brother. How many men of God can say they
got the Devil himself to do His work?"

"N-not many, I would imagine," Sloane said, turning around slowly. He
relaxed and began breathing normally upon seeing that

Kienan was gone. He was just as terrifying, if not even moreso, than
his reputation said.

Sloane gathered his robes around him, suddenly feeling very sick and
cold with fear. He reminded himself to pray tonight before he went to
sleep, and to sleep with the lights on.

* * *

Kienan maneuvered the Silhouette into drydock he was just above the
atmosphere of Ganymede. Below was Omnicorp's research and development
facility, and within it, his targets. Three of them.

He walked down a flight of stairs to his secondary docking bay. In the
center pad of the docking bay was a small shuttle, as blood-red as
Kienan's outfit. It was Kienan's personal shuttle.

The Ruby Vroom, Kienan thought, grinding out his cigarette.
Silhouette's name for it. She was like a kid, always coming up with
silly names like that. Odd how empty this places feels without
her.

He chided himself for thinking of her at a time like this. Meeting her
again was what had led Jayla to leave and end up at Gao's place. He
mulled that over as he opened the side door of the shuttle and stepped
inside. He tapped a series of keys and the machine hummed to life. He
started the Silhouette's launch cycle, and the launch pad was lowered
down into open space. The Vroom's engines roared to life, moving free
of the launch elevator and heading for the surface,

Kienan hit a series of switches above his head. Metallic plates slid
down over the viewports as the ship entered the atmosphere. Kienan took
a deep breath as the heat increased and the ship shuddered violently.
He was used to it, but that didn't mean he liked it.

Finally the heat settled, the shields retracted and Kienan made his way
to the outskirts of the R &; D base.

* * *

Kienan walked into Lil's store, head hung low. Lil looked at him almost
pityingly. He hadn't slept, that much was obvious. His green eyes were
bloodshot and red. He looked like he had been drinking--no. That wasn't
it.

He looked like he'd been crying, but Lil knew better than that.

Kienan was many things. He was a hard man, a ruthless, cold-blooded
killer, but he never cried.
Didn't he?

He stared at Lil. Lil looked down and could see his hands shaking. She
nodded and reached above her and pulled down a pack of cigarettes and
matches and pushed them across the counter to him.

Kienan took them gently, opening the pack and lighting a cigarette in a
brisk, natural, motion. He took a long drag, and Lil could tell this
was his first cigarette of a very long night.

Lil looked at him for a time, not saying a word. The words weren't
coming. What could I say to him? Lil pondered, never taking her eyes
off of him. What can I say to him that would make the pain in his eyes
go away? I've been on both sides of it, I know that I can't make him
not have seen what he saw.

And, God help me, I know what she told him. I've said it often
enough.

"The girl?" She asked, after a time.

Kienan closed his eyes and nodded, taking another drag off of his
cigarette. He looked away, back through the door at the streets of
Kuran Colony. The colony was just waking up, and already there was
plenty of shouting from the streetside vendors and the grumble of
garbage trucks.

Despite his pain, the galaxy was still turning pitilessly.

"Lil," he said, his voice sounding like a man trying to move ten tons
of weight.

"Don't say it," Lil said gently.

Kienan shook his head and took another puff of the cigarette.

"You were right," he said finally.

I'd give anything not to be, Lil thought ruefully, and reached for the
bottle under the counter again.

* * *

Kienan ducked into a janitor's closet, a tight smile on his face. He
couldn't believe how sloppy Omnicorp was about visitors. Then again, he
thought. Given that they own damn near everything Industria Galactica
doesn't I guess they don't have to worry much about industrial
espionage. Or if they do . . .they probably have a short list of people
to go to.

He reached into one of the lockers and found a pair of coveralls and a
cap. He tucked his braid into the coveralls as he zipped them up and
put the cap low over his head. He looked around and saw a suction broom
and pulled it close to hand. Now he had a cover, now he needed to know
where this "Project: Eve" was.

He plugged a small device into the computer link next to the lockers
and downloaded a floor plan. Ordinarily the janitors used this to see
which areas were requesting cleanup, but Kienan had a more precise
method in mind.

Central core, third level, outer ring, Kienan thought, committing the
path to memory. Good for me, I can rig the place to blow and have the
Vroom waiting for me.

He grabbed the broom, pocketed the device and exited the closet, making
his way slowly to the central core. Omnicorp's building was built in
circles and intersecting towers. From the sky it had looked like a
ring-toss game frozen in time. Certain planetary neccesities sometimes
dictated strange architecture.

He came to the central core, only to be stopped by a blue-suited and
very well-armed guard. He waved for Kienan to come over where he was.
Kienan's eyes flitted back and forth, checking for any sign of anyone
else.

No one so far.

"Just what in the hell are you doing here?" The guard said. His
neutral, accent-less voice was the mark of someone who'd been born in
space. Probably on Ganymede. Kienan tensed his vocal cords to match his
accent.

"One of the section leaders requested a cleanup," Kienan said. "I
caught the report coming off of my break, came down here."

"I wasn't notified," the guard said. "This area has Red Level
clearance, any cleaning requests would have shown up on my duty roster
and you would have gotten a pass at the desk. Have you got one?"

Kienan fought the urge to grimace. "Sure, just lemme find it," he
mumbled, jamming the butt of the suction broom into the Guard's throat,
crushing his larynx. The Guard fell backwards, clutching his throat.
Kienan swung the broom into the guard's chest, forcing him to double
over. Kienan slid behind him and brought the broom handle against the
guard's windpipe, pulling back until he heard the last of the guard's
breaths wheeze out.

The guard slumped to the floor and Kienan snapped his access pass off
of him. His eyes looked around for a place to hide the body, and was
about to give up when his eyes met a sign that was a releif.

Kienan opened the door and jammed the man inside, shutting it quickly
and hitting the PURGE button. Kienan walked away, stopping to pick up
his broom and stare at the sign on the door.

WASTE DISPOSAL.

Kienan smirked and doffed his cap before stepping inside.

* * *

Reficul looked at his notes and watched the Marionettes as they sat
across from him. They were filling out IQ tests, 500,000-question IQ
tests used to train Oneiran children. Reficul had already tested them
with the Earth and Rigellian versions, and found them to have
permanently wrecked the grading curve.

While the test results were intriguing to him, he was really giving
them the tests to ascertain whether or not they were developing actual
personalities. It seemed they were, and Reficul was stunned beyond
words.

Sandoval had managed to graft his three Neo-Humans with genuine
personalities, Reficul thought. Then again, he had engrams of living to
people to form a base for a personality matrix. But these three are
learning and developing them from scratch, and at a geometric rate, no
less.

Quite fascinating.

He sighed and picked up his bound and freshly printed schematic of his
proposal to Omnicorp. The Bioroid. Less organic, less efficient, and
all around less sophisticated than a Marionette, and even better, cheap
and easy to produce. Reficul had worked up the proposal in two hours
and had spent the rest of the day with the Marionettes.

His mind touched on his argument with Korpil earlier today. Korpil had
bristled at Reficul's desire to want to take the Marionettes to
Oneirous for further study. They were Omnicorp property, and besides,
they were too dangerous, Korpil had said. Omnicorp would be held to
some legal liability if they went rogue.

Reficul snorted at the memory, then set the proposal down on the desk.
He had decided at that moment to take them anyway. What could Omnicorp
do, in any case? Oneirous was a subject of the Rigellian Empire, and
pressing someone like Reficul for a charge of theft, especially after
Omnicorp had murdered Dr. Gora, would result in a black eye for them
and a loss of money.
And Reficul knew they couldn't abide that. After all, given what Korpil
had said about the Marionettes, they seemed to live in mortal fear of
liability. As though a record free of litigation was some sort of
absolution.

He was jarred out of his thoughts by a loud klaxon and a flashing blue
light.

"Blue Alert. Biohazard warning. One minute for evacuation pending
decontamination protocols."

"Damntion!" Reficul said, gathering his things. The Marionettes kept at
their tests, and Reficul pondered whether or not he should put them
into suspend mode. He decided against it . . .after all, they had no
reason to breathe; the rise and fall of their chest was due to the
osmotic pumps in their chest.

Reficul made his way out of the door just as Kienan peeked in the
window.

* * *

Kienan unzipped the coveralls and tossed them away. He withdrew a long
slender bar with a device on the end and opened the lock, giving silent
thanks that the old trick of pulling an alarm to get the place all to
yourself still worked.

He took a look around the lab, stopping only to affix his breathing
filters in his nostrils. Decontamination meant selenide gas, and
breathing it in without nominal precautions was like trying to breathe
acid.

He reached into one of the pouches in his belt and started affixing
explosives to banks of computers and anything that looked flammable.
Once that was done, he armed the devices and cradled the detonator in
his hand.

Goodbye, he thought. See you "ladies" on the other side. His hand
tightened on the detonator, ready to tuck and roll towards the wall
when it blew out.

Suddenly, Kienan felt himself being lifted by the back of his neck high
into the air. He thrashed around, turning to see the person holding him
was a very shapely, very pale, very naked, blonde woman.

"What are you doing?" The woman asked. It was an honest question,
Kienan mused. He tried to squirm out of her grip, but it was no good.
Despite her looks, she was way stronger than a mere human.

Kienan tried kicking her loose, but found hi foot grabbed by another
naked woman, this one a brunette. The brunette pulled his leg, not
enough to cause him pain, but enough to eliminate any leverage
advantage.

Kienan started getting angry, and dug into his pouches, while he still
hand his hands free. The detonator clattered to the floor, probably
broken. A third naked woman, a redhead stared at him with strange,
almost childlike, curiosity.

Kienan grabbed something in the palm of his hand and slapped it against
the breast of the blonde woman. The brunette dropped him nearly
simultaneously with a gasp of something that sounded suspiciously like
fear. She dropped him suddenly, sparks arcing off of her body Kienan
fell face first onto the hard metal floor, blood filling his mouth. He
wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and made a
promise that next time he'd try to land softer.

Kienan reached for the detonator and once he grabbed it, rolled to a
safe corner of the room. He pushed the button.

Nothing.

Kienan grimaced. Obviously, the fall had broken it. He tossed it to the
side, tapped one of the fasteners on his red vest, activating a
pre-planned command.

The outer wall of the lab blew outwards with a loud report and a cloud
of dust where metallic-polarized concrete had been. Outside, the Ruby
Vroom hovered, it two forward gunports still smoking.

The women were frantically digging themselves out of the rubble that
the blast had created. Kienan thought quickly and commanded the Vroom
to pull alongside and open its doors.

He dove in and turned the ship about, the thruster exhaust now burning
the loose bits of paper on the edge of the blasted hole.
Kienan walked to the rear of the ship and hit a series of switches. On
the rear of the Vroom a small barrel moved into position. Kienan looked
through the viewfinder, his target fixing on one of the explosives. One
shot from the graviton gun at low power would set it off, and the
others would blow up as programmed. Messy, Kienan thought, but it'll
get the job done.

He pulled the trigger, and in an instant, the lab exploded, disgorging
fire, debris, and more chunks of concrete out onto the Vroom. The ship
shook three times with the force of the explosion, and Kienan moved
back to the pilot's seat and kicked in the full force of the ship's
thrusters.

Kienan grimaced. What in the hell is wrong with this thing? He thought
angrily. I'm at full burn but I'm moving like I'm half that.
Kienan blinked, set the ship to follow a pre-set course, then drew his
guns and opened the top hatch. He pointed them toward the rear of the
ship and groaned.

The three girls were on top of the Vroom. No wonder I'm going
slow.

"Are you going to destroy us?" the redhead asked, her black eyes
meeting his.

Kienan looked into her eyes and saw something he hadn't seen in awhile.
He thought of Silhouette, of what Lil had said, and what Jayla had
done. The wind whipped through his hair, and made his braid flap in the
wind like a battleflag.

He sighed and wondered just what in the hell he was thinking, because
it didn't sound like him at all. "Can they make any more of you?" He
asked, pointing with his guns towards the smoking building now
vanishing on the horizon.

The redhead shook her head. Kienan looked back down at the hold,
pondering something and rationalizing what he felt himself about to do,
despite all common sense to the contrary. A proximity alert was
beeping, pursuit ships were on their way.

Kienan safetied his guns. "Get in," he said.

The three naked woman followed him in through the top hatch the blonde
and the brunette stood while the redheaded one sat next to Kienan, who
ignored her.

"Thank you for not destroying us," she said evenly. Despite her blank
tone, Kienan could discern some sincerity.

"Believe me," Kienan said. "It's a surprise to me, too."

The blonde and the brunette were studying his weapons console. Kienan
looked over his shoulder. "Don't touch that," he said. Kienan's blood
seemed to be thrumming behind his eyes and he wanted a cigarette so bad
he could taste it. He had managed to add some speed, but those three
pursuit ships coming up behind him could still catch him before he hit
the atmosphere.

"Primitive pursuit vessel," the blonde said.

"Hey," Kienan said. "Wanna walk?"

The blonde looked at him, then started punching buttons on the console.
On the back of the Vroom, two grey panels slid up, revealing two
heavy-caliber vulcan cannons. They fired and destroyed two of the
pursuit ships. The brunette activated the graviton gun and destroyed
the third.

Kienan looked back, shocked. "I changed my mind," he said. "You see a
ship behind us, touch those all you want." He whistled under his
breath.

The shields slid into place and the Vroom punched through Ganymede's
atmosphere, just as the Silhouette's pre-arranged orbit aligned with
the Vroom's trajectory. In a matter of minutes, the Vroom was docked
and on its way out of the solar system.

* * *

"Tissue readings, but only a little," Reficul said, sweeping the
scanning device over the ruins of the lab. "What a damned waste."

"Just as well," Korpil said. "We're saved the trouble of putting them
on ice or destroying them this way."

"Forgive me if I don't share your euphoria," Reficul said. "These three
were something quite special. We could have built a new mankind and
been gods ourselves."

"The Board of Directors doesn't see anything wrong with the old one,"
Korpil said.

"No human does, I find," Reficul mumbled. "One of these days Korpil,
you should hear what the galaxy really thinks of you. I'm exercising my
option, Korpil. I want out of my contract."

"You sure?" Korpil said. "Omnicorp wants you to develop that proposal
of yours."

"Can I be guaranteed a safe place to work?" Reficul asked
derisively.

"We'll talk," Korpil said. "We've got an R &; D facility on the
Frontier on lease. Perfect place to work in secret, which is what you
Oneirans do best, isn't it?"

Reficul turned to him, about to chastise him for the implied slur.
"Yes," he said. "Promise me a facility of my own, and no interference
and you have a deal."

Korpil nodded and Reficul bent down to scan through the rubble and see
if any evidence or record of the now-lost Marionettes.
He would find none.

* * *

Kienan was in the lower holds of the Silhouette, pulling out three
footlockers in rapid succession, their plastic shells bouncing against
the deck with a heavy thud. Kienan opened one, his eyes closed,
steadying himself for what he would see when he opened it.

He opened one of the footlockers. "All right," he said very calmly as
he stood up, digging in his vest pocket for a cigarette. "The only
reason I'm doing this is for a little peace of mind. Here are some
clothes. Go through them, find something you like, but don't come back
to the bridge until your dressed. In words of one syllable--put some
damned clothes on."

"Why?" the brunette asked.

Kienan lit the cigarette and took a long relieved drag off of
them.

"How about so I don't eject you into space, for starters?" Kienan said,
turning and leaving the hold. "Remember--get dressed or I'm putting you
off." Kienan clambered up the stairs up to the bridge again, sighing.
He hadn't really wanted to dig into Silhouette's old things, but he had
no choice in the matter right now. Especially since he wasn't
altogether sure why he had allowed them to come along.

He thought back to the night he had first met Silhouette, and how he
had rescued her from a group of muggers, and she had looked at him in
that same way. He sighed.

Why did I do it?

He sat in his command seat, exhausted, and tapped out a secure
communications channel. The Silhouette was in Space Drive and they were
well out of the Earth system without being seen. It was safe
enough.

"This is Sloane," the voice on the other end crackled.

"Mission accomplished," Kienan said. "Marionettes completely destroyed.
Lab completely destroyed, no people killed. My contract, to the letter.
I'm attaching proof with this message Deposit the other half into the
specified account immediately."

"Consider it done," Sloane said a little nervously. "Erm, forgive me,
for asking, but you say no one was killed?"

Kienan smiled around his cigarette. He thought of the man he had jammed
into the closet and how one of the contract points had been that no
humans could be harmed or killed in fulfilling it.

He pondered that for a moment, then took the cigarette from his lips
and flicked the ash from the end into the ashtray.
"Not a single dead body." Kienan said. "That was our contract, to the
letter. Oh, and preacher-man? It was a pleasure doing business with
you. We've gotta do this again."

"Go to hell," Sloane said, severing the connection. Kienan tapped on
another console and saw that the money had been deposited.

Pious bastard, Kienan thought. But at least he's an honest man of the
cloth. Honest as they ever get, anyway.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned around to see the three
Marionettes, now fully dressed. Kienan frowned at bit at the ill fit of
some of the garments, but decided not to let it bother him.

It wouldn't be a big deal unless they took really deep breaths, he
thought. Whoever designed them had some serious issues with women, I
think. Then again, look who's talking.

He took a thoughtful drag on his cigarette and looked at them. I could
toss them out at Kuran, he thought, but there's always the possibility
that someone would find out what they were, and it would come out, and
I'd be disgraced. He had never failed to complete a contract, and while
leaving them alive wasn't technically violating his contract, which had
called for Omnicorp's ability to make Marionettes to be destroyed, he
didn't even want the implication.

But there were plenty of deserted worlds and deserted stations on the
Frontier where they could stay and never be found. That was always an
option. I could dump them there and they could survive on their own. My
reputation would be intact, and I wouldn't have to kill them.

"What . . .do you think?" The blonde asked.

"I feel much better now that we're all dressed," Kienan said
indifferently. "Now . . .where do you three want to go?"

"Go?" the brunette asked.

I'm talking to children, Kienan thought wearily. "Do you want to stay
with me or do you want me to drop you someplace deserted?"

"We want to stay with you," the redhead said.

Kienan turned away and grimaced. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that. I
have enough female problems already."

"You need us," the blonde said.

"No I don't," Kienan replied quickly.

"Where would we go?" the redhead asked.

"Into space?" the brunette said. "Didn't he say that was the only place
we could go? I guess we'll shoot ourselves into space." She looked at
him. "Thank you for not blowing us up and or letting us fall. It was
very nice of you."

They started back down the stairs.

"Wait."

They froze and turned toward Kienan.

Kienan sighed. A million voices were in his head, telling him what a
horrible idea this way. Toriares' voice, telling him to never get
attached to anyone, Silhouette demanding he open his heart to her,
Jayla angrily shouting at him for never telling her the whole
truth.

And his own voice, very quiet, asking why he had to be alone at
all.

"Stay," Kienan said, flatly.

They walked back up the stairs and sat down in the chairs on either
side of Kienan. Kienan stared straight ahead, monitoring the
controls.

"Do any of you have a name?" Kienan asked after a time.

"No," the blonde said.

"What do you call yourselves?"

"We don't know," the brunette said.

Kienan sighed and pointed to the console in front of the blonde. "Call
up the dictionary program and pick something. I don't care if it's
something picked at random, but you need names. I won't always be able
to point at the one I'm talking to."

They busied themselves at the console and Kienan lit another cigarette.
He mulled over the last week, over what had happened with Jayla and
what had happened today.

He took a long thoughtful drag. Was he avoiding his destiny? Was his
destiny to be alone, and to die alone? And was having them here a way
of protecting against that?

"Vain," the blonde said. "I like that word."

"Vein?" the brunette said. "You're naming yourself after something that
carries blood?"

"No, not V-E-I-N," the blonde replied. "V-A-I-N."

"Why that?" The redhead asked. "It's not even a proper name. Just a
noun."

The blonde sighed. "I just like the sound of it. Look, let me find my
own name, you'll get your turn."

Kienan suddenly became aware he was smiling around his cigarette. He
took out his cigarette and looked at his reflection in the
canopy.

When was the last time I smiled while I was on board this ship? Kienan
pondered, shocked as though, like the Marionettes, he were experiencing
things for the first time. I haven't smiled . . .since Silhouette left.
Not on this ship, anyway. Never had much of a reason to, this place
always reminded me of her.

Maybe it doesn't have to be that way with them around. Maybe I don't
have to die alone, and I can find a destiny like they're finding their
names.

Maybe I don't have to be sorry.

He stubbed out the cigarette and closed his eyes while the three
Marionettes quibbled. That was enough philosophy, the whole week had
been too full of it. Right now he wanted to relax.

Whatever happens next, he thought. I'm sure destiny will take care of
it.