(Excerpt from transcript of 11th day of hearing, Labour Relations Board enquiry in Daintree Distribution Centre 038884/17/42 Dunbar Commerce and Transport Hub Location)

  Robert Fisher (representing Daintree Biomechanics division: Human Optimisation): It’s not as though it’s a secret that Daintree produces neural adjuncts. Biomechanical adjuncts and appliances are one of the industries of which Daintree has always been at the forefront. We are proud to play such an important role in helping humans to live fulfilling and productive lives in a time when they might have been utterly sidelined by the evolution of our mechanical friends. Evolution in inverted commas, naturally. (laughter)

  Committee member James Weaver MP: You make humans more like machines.

  Fisher: We’re not interested in trying to turn humans into machines, like something from the dark ages. We want to help humans to remain competitive with our machine friends. At Daintree we have employment opportunities for humans like Mr Foster and we produce enhancement technology which allows Mr Foster to perform a valuable role in an environment which he otherwise wouldn’t be capable of participating in, surrounded by machines.

  Weaver: And Daintree also produces similar enhancements for soldiers.

  Fisher: Yes, we do. Since our machine friends made the decision that it wasn’t appropriate for them to participate in military activity, and as there will always be a need for military units to carry out defence and peacekeeping work, Daintree provides enhancements for humans to allow them to perform their important work more safely and efficiently.

  Weaver: In what ways do Daintree’s enhancements affect humans?

  Fisher: Well, that depends entirely on what is desired-

  Weaver: In a military capacity. For soldiers.

  Fisher: Greater physical strength. Faster reactions and movement. Added processing space which allows them to plan and execute actions more quickly and to calculate distances and speed with greater facility.

  Weaver: And I understand that soldiers with Daintree adjuncts can be remote-controlled by a commander, locally or from a distance.

  Fisher: (pause) That’s not accurate.

  Weaver: They can’t have their actions or movements controlled externally?

  Fisher: (pause) In a situation where, say, a soldier panics at a vital moment and fails to act-

  Weaver: If he freezes, in fear?

  Fisher: If something like that happens, which it does, at times, even in well-trained soldiers, the Daintree neural adjunct can allow the soldier to be….compelled to act in order to save his or others’ lives, or to carry out a vital action.

  Weaver: So they can be remote-controlled using the Daintree neural?

  Fisher: It’s not remote-control. It’s not as though the soldier is a mindless puppet being steered with a joystick. In a crucial moment when lives or the success of the mission is on the line the neural adjunct can deliver stimulus to act and...some guidance in what to do. According to a pre-planned set of actions which would be delivered to the soldier. This would be a highly unusual use of the Daintree adjunct, however.

  Weaver: And this could be done without the soldier being conscious of it. Would that be right?

  Fisher: Not due to the operation of the neural adjunct. In the rare circumstances where they might be employed in this way, the soldier would be extremely panicked. He would be unlikely to recall the event afterwards with any accuracy. Or, he might be embarrassed about his response to stress and claim afterwards that he doesn’t remember.

  Weaver: So it’s your belief that there’s no reason why a soldier wouldn’t remember actions that he’d carried out under compulsion by a Daintree neural adjunct?

  Fisher: Not necessarily, no.

  Weaver: That wouldn’t be an expected effect?

  Fisher: Unfortunately there isn’t a lot of data on this. It isn’t something that is seen as a particularly pressing area for study.

  Weaver: This enquiry received many, many testimonies from ex-soldiers describing gaps in their memories, sometimes quite substantial-

  Fisher: I don’t know about you, Mr Weaver, but I quite often lose track of time or can’t remember what I’ve been doing exactly. More so as I get older. (laughter)

  Weaver: These were all young soldiers.

  Fisher: Most of them are. And stressed. And frightened. I expect most of these lacunas occurred at times of great excitement. Do you have records of the deployments these soldiers were involved with?

  Weaver: We do. Most of them- nearly all- happened on Callisto.

  Fisher: Callisto? I don’t recognise the name.

  Weaver: I believe Daintree would call it Vu-Murt in reference to their interests there.

  Fisher: I’m not actually familiar with Daintree’s interests on Vu-Murt-

  Weaver: You know it has them, though.

  Fisher: Daintree has interests everywhere that humans are, Mr Weaver. Our interest is in humans.

  Pallas had the AGMG almost lifting off when Hesper and Atesthas reached the door. “Go, let’s go,” yelled Hesper as they bundled into the airlock. “Yeah,” said Atesthas, slumping onto the floor. “Go…”

  “You heard our fearless leader,” said Hesper as she sealed the door behind them. “Captain says clear for takeoff.”

  “Aye, aye,” said Pallas. “Everybody hold on tight,”

  Orson heard them through the factor that McPhail had allowed him to take with him into the basement. Orson hadn’t known that the AGMG had a ‘basement’ until McPhail told him that was where he was going. “We can’t have you in the ship with a bomb inside you,” McPhail had explained quite reasonably. So Orson was sitting in the dark down in the very bottom of the ship, packed into a very fusty pressure suit and anchored to the bulkhead with straps meant for securing cargo.

  “It won’t be for long,” McPhail had assured him. “We’re going to get that taken out of you as soon as possible,”

  “How soon?” asked Orson

  “Next stop,” McPhail had said. “Not long.”

  He hadn’t given Orson any food or water which Orson was trying to think of as a good sign. If he was going to be down here for a long time they would have to give him food and water, right? So it must only be a short journey to wherever they were going. McPhail had given Orson one of his factors, though, so that he could stay in contact. And to keep him company a little, Orson thought. He sat with the small machine sitting on his belly, arms wrapped around it. It was sending audio from the ship into the helmet of his pressure suit so he knew what was going on. Orson would have known the ship was taking off anyway, he thought. The vibration as it started to move was alarming down here in the dark with very little insulation. Orson checked the straps fastening him to the wall and hugged the factor closer to him.

  ----------

  “Not today, thanks.” came a voice through the console. Hesper and McPhail looked at each other with a slight smile. “Independent transport craft A Good Man Gone requesting permission to land,” said Atesthas. “Hi, Poppy,”

  “Hi, Poppy,” said Hesper. “Permisson to land?”

  “Negative, AGMG,” said the intercom voice. “Your current trajectory indicates you’re aiming for the front lawn of my house and if one wheel of that heap of scrap brushes so much as a blade of grass that I can see from the dining-room window then I’ll be forced to destroy all of your families’ home stations. Change course immediately.”

  An alarm sounded on the console. “That’s a missile lock, Captain,” said Hesper, smiling.

  “I’ve installed a new anti-spacecraft battery on the games room roof, you can probably see it from where you are,” said the radio. “I’m very keen to try it out,”

  “McPhail?” said Orson to the factor he was holding. “Who’s that they’re talking to?”

  “Hesper’s friend Poppy, Orson. It’s her house we’re going to,”

  “Why is she saying she’s going to shoot us?”

  “Because she’s met us before,”

  Atesthas looked irked. “Well, where am I supposed to set down, then?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t,”

  “Come on, Pops,” said Hesper. “You know you always have fun when we visit,”

  There was a pause and then an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose so…”

  “Where’s our target, then?”

  “If you must,” said Poppy, “The back paddock, in front of the stables.”

  “That’s two miles from the house,” complained Atesthas, arms folded huffily.

  “One point six,” said Poppy. “It’s just as well you won’t be going anywhere near my house anyway, isn’t it?”

  “Poppy is Atesthas’ ideal woman,” said Hesper, directing her comment to the factor on the dashboard so that Orson would hear. The missile lock alarm was still sounding. “She’s not,” said Atesthas. “My ideal woman would be slightly less hostile,”

  “She wouldn’t.” said Hesper. “You would never respect anyone who was nice to you, Captain Allan.”

  “You make me sound like a headcase,” sighed Atesthas. Hesper raised her eyebrows.

  “Orson?” said Atesthas to the factor, “Since this conversation is happening for your benefit, Orson, I want to give you some advice. When a woman is-”

  “Oh good grief,” interrupted Hesper. “No, don’t even start. Orson doesn’t need your advice on women.”

  The AGMG dropped onto the lawn, bouncing on its suspension so hard it almost re-launched itself.

  “Christ.” said Hesper. “Okay. Open us up, Pallas.”

  Pallas was still connected to the AGMG. Her small body was slumped in one of the pilot seats, eyes glazed. “How are you doing down there, Orson?” asked Hesper, addressing the factor that was sitting on the console. “Rate Pallas’ landing,”

  “Have we landed?” came Orson’s voice through the factor. “I didn’t notice.”

  “You got through that with your sense of humour intact, then.” said Hesper. “Glad to hear it.”

  “The ship is called A Good Man Gone,” said Orson. “I thought it was called ‘Ag-mag’.”

  “Ay-Gee-Em-Gee,” said Hesper. “Quicker to just say Agmag. But yes, it has a real name.”

  ----------

  The rest of the crew had disembarked by the time the factors extracted Orson from the ‘basement.’

  He stumbled down the low ramp that had folded out from the lower level of the AGMG. A factor was helpfully leading him, one of his bulky-gloved hands held daintily in its little claw. Another factor followed, carrying the helmet which it had presumably removed from Orson’s pressure-suit. Orson screwed up his face when he stepped out of the AGMG’s shadow into the light. He groaned. “Bright,”

  “Nice,” said McPhail. “How d’you feel?”

  “Okay,” said Orson. He shaded his eyes with one gloved hand while the factor started undoing the catches to remove the other glove. “What is all this?” he asked, looking around. “Where are we?”

  “This is Elara,” said Hesper. “My mate Poppy’s place.”

  It was all a bit much for him, but Orson could tell that this was a place most people would like to live. The immaculate white lawn they’d landed on sloped gently away from them, neatly clipped and groomed, for hundreds of metres down to a low grey stone wall. There was a paved area around an opening in the wall, the gap flanked by two enormous amphora shaped vases.

  A path ran from there down through slightly less intensely manicured but still carpet-thick and even lawn. The path continued down the gently rolling hill until it vanished with the end of the grass hundreds of metres away. Beyond that what looked like a grey-lilac loch with no end in sight in either direction. It was hard to see with the too-bright light sparkling on the water. Far off in the distance purple and white hillsides on the other side of the loch. Orson felt like his eyes were getting scorched by the brightness. He turned around.

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  Behind them there were further hundreds of metres of lawn, then some trees that became forest. Hills far behind that. Grey gravel paths snaked away in various directions, none of them marked. “Is that Poppy’s house?” he asked, pointing at a huge sprawling white building with other buildings around it. McPhail snorted.

  “No.” said Hesper. “That’s the stables.”

  “You won’t even get to see the actual house,” said Atesthas, walking up behind them. You’re too worthless to look at it,”

  “Hey,” objected Orson.

  “It’s nothing personal, Orson.” said Hesper. “He won’t get to see it either. In his case it is personal,”

  “I’ve seen it before,” said Atesthas. Herouth laughed.

  “You won’t be seeing it again,” she said. “No matter how nicely you dress up for Poppy,”

  Atesthas was wearing some kind of uniform, stuff Orson had never seen him in before. On the AGMG Atesthas flopped about in grey pyjamas, a long-sleeved teeshirt and soft trousers. Today he was wearing a one-piece sort of military jumpsuit thing. Orson thought he looked cool.

  “What do you think?” asked Atesthas. “You’ve probably never been anywhere like this before, have you? Always had a ceiling over your head,”

  “I’ve been outside before,” said Orson. “I’ve been to Telesto.”

  “You weren’t ‘outside’ on Telesto,” said Hesper. “You were in a car.”

  “I saw the sky,” said Orson. “I looked up. I saw what it looks like when there’s nothing above you,”

  Atesthas looked at him with an eyebrow raised above one of his purple-ringed eyes. He had a small odd smile on his face. “Nothing? You call that nothing, up there?”

  Orson frowned at him, then looked up.

  McPhail made a half-hearted move to catch Orson and then changed his mind. McPhail was not young any more and Orson looked heavy. McPhail just stood and watched him slump unconscious onto the beautiful white grass. The two factors started circling uncertainly above Orson, one holding a glove and the other holding his helmet. “Look at that,” said Hesper, annoyed. “Been here not two minutes and we’re already making a mess of Poppy’s lovely loop,”

  “Speaking of which…” said McPhail. There was someone striding towards them, coming down the wide gravel path from the stables. She waved at them as she approached.

  “Oh no,” she said. “You landed safely,”

  “You look fantastic,” said Hesper. “It’s been so long,”

  The two women hugged. “Hi, Poppy,” said McPhail and got a small smile and wave in return.

  “Captain Allan!” Poppy greeted Atesthas. “Have you gained a little weight?”

  “Hi, Poppy,” said Atesthas through gritted teeth. “Great to see you again.”

  Poppy looked down at the large dirty-orange bundle on the ground.

  “And this must be the patient. Otis, isn’t it? ” said Poppy. She poked Orson carefully with the toe of a muddy boot. “He doesn’t seem to be doing very well,”

  “Orson’s fine,” said Hesper. “But he looked up,”

  “Oh,” said Poppy. “First time on a loop?” She squatted next to Orson and rolled him onto his back. Orson opened his eyes and looked up at her, coming around to find himself gazing into the face of maybe the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “What happened?” he asked.

  “You just passed out a little bit there.” said the beautiful woman, stroking his belly. “A lot of people get overwhelmed the first time they’re on an open loop, especially if they’re not prepared for it,”

  “Sorry,” said Atesthas.

  “We’re on a what?” said Orson.

  “No- no, Otis, don’t look up,” said Poppy. “Look at me. Don’t just go staring up at the sky, you’ll knock yourself out again,”

  “Come on,” said Hesper, stepping closer and leaning over Orson. She swatted at the factors and they floated away reluctantly. “Let’s sit you up.”

  Hesper took Orson’s hands and pulled him up into a sitting position. He couldn’t remember what had just happened but he saw an impression of what he’d seen on the inside of his eyelids every time he blinked.

  Orson had the natural human horror of being outside. The normal response to being exposed to the awful void. Your body just knew that it was supposed to be enclosed. Roof over your head. Outside was terrifying. Just nothing and so much of it, infinity much of it. You shouldn’t look at all that nothing. You got that horrendous vertigo feeling that you were just going to tumble out into it, just fall out into it and keep going because there was nothing to stop you.

  Here, there was something else. Something glimpsed, hazy and far off, the line of an impossible curve stretching out further than you could see through the expensively-generated atmosphere. It was all one thing, what was above, what was below, the same thing, he was on it, not in it, because this was-

  “Is this a- a hoop?” asked Orson. “Like a station that’s an open hoop? Is that what this is?”

  “It’s a loop, Otis, that’s right,”

  Orson held onto the grass and didn’t look up. “A loop.” he said. “I knew it! I knew all that stuff was lies. You always hear, oh, humans could have these wonderful hoops that everyone would like to live on so much but humans can’t build them-”

  “We can’t,” said Poppy.

  “And the machines could but they refuse to, the machine guild just hates hoops for some reason and if anyone tries to build one they come and blow it up-”

  “They do,” said Poppy.

  “No, they don’t,” said Orson. Poppy laughed and patted his upper arm through the pressure-suit.

  “Why do you think we have an anti-spacecraft battery on the roof of our house?” she asked.

  “Orson!” said Hesper sternly. “Shut up. Pops, you must learn to do what we we do and ignore Orson. He would debate all day long were he allowed. This lad will take the simplest statement of fact and unravel it into a three-day pointless argument if you give him his head. So don’t.”

  “But!” said Orson. “That wasn’t a simple statement of fact! You said that we’re on a hoop-”

  “A loop,”

  “On a loop, and we are, I saw it, you can see the other side of the ring up there, well, you can kind of see it-”

  “Don’t look, Otis sweetheart,” said Poppy. “You really will pass out again,”

  “Might be for the best,” said Hesper.

  “But then you said that humans can’t build hoops, only machines can build them, but then you said that machines hate hoops and they blow them all up,”

  “Mm-hm,” said Hesper.

  “Yes,” said Poppy.

  “That doesn’t make sense!”

  “Machines don’t make sense, Otis,” said Poppy. “They’re all demented. When did you last have a sensible conversation with a machine?”

  Orson opened his mouth to say something. He caught sight of Pallas, crossing the perfect lawn towards them. She started waving at him and tripped over something in the grass. She fell over. The factor carrying Orson’s glove drifted up from the grass where Pallas had tripped and flew away. Orson shut his mouth.

  “Oh, look who it is!” said Poppy. She stood up and brushed grass off her trousers. “Otis, this is Tristan,”

  Orson turned to look. A handsome young guy was crunching down the gravel path from the stables, the same way Poppy had come. He raised a hand in greeting. “Triss is The Vet’s assistant, Otis,” said Poppy. “He’ll take you to get you ready for your surgery.”

  “Oh, yeah…” said Orson. “I forgot about that,”

  “How are we?” said Tristan as he walked up to them. “This the patient?”

  “Yes, this is Otis,” said Poppy.

  “Orson,” said Hesper.

  “Is it?” said Poppy.

  “Do we need to get a stretcher for him?” asked Tristan, looking concerned.

  “No, no,” said Hesper. “He can shift himself, you’ll be glad to hear. He just had a bit of a syncope,”

  “Ah. Did he look up?” said Tristan. Hesper, Orson and Poppy all nodded.

  “He’s fine now though, aren’t you, Orse?” asked Hesper. “All ready to stand up?”

  “Sure,” said Orson. Hesper extended both arms to him and Orson took her hands. She pulled him easily to his feet. Everything went a little bit grey around the edges for a moment and Orson staggered ever so slightly: Hesper seemed to have anticipated this as she had kept hold of his hands. “Okay?” she asked him.

  “Yeah. Fine.”

  “Good lad,” said Tristan. “Let’s go and get you properly knocked out, hm?”

  Orson grinned weakly at him. “Great,” he said.

  “Would you like anyone to go with you?” Poppy asked Orson. “To hold your hand?”

  Orson looked hopefully at the AGMG crew, all of whom were looking in different directions other than at Orson. Pallas was still face-down in the grass.

  Undergoing surgery was a normal part of Orson’s work routine. Every couple of weeks he’d be opened up to harvest the latest batch of whatever he’d been growing inside him. He was long past getting nervous about going under the knife. All the same, he would have liked it if someone had offered to chum along with him.

  “It’s fine,” he said. “I’m fine by myself.”

  “That’s my big boy.” said Poppy. “Tristan will take good care of you, won’t you, Triss?”

  “The best.”

  Tristan turned to walk back up the path. He made a clicking noise and patted the side of his thigh. Orson followed him obediently. A factor flew after them, fussing around trying to get Orson’s other glove off.

  “Okay,” said Poppy, watching the two men leave for the stables. “For the rest of you,” said Poppy, “I have friends staying with me and I will permit you to join them at the guest house, where I believe they are currently having a party.”

  “Ooh!” said Hesper. Atesthas frowned slightly. McPhail looked like he always looked. “The robot can stay with your ship,” added Poppy. McPhail nodded. From over on the grass Pallas gave a thumbs-up.

  “Okay, let’s boogie. That’s the quickest path to the house.”

  She pointed to one of the trails leading into the trees. “Off you go, have fun.”

  “Can we take the horses?” asked Atesthas. “Or a buggy or something?”

  Poppy shook her head. “No.”

  “Come on, it’s miles,”

  “You need the exercise, captain.” said Poppy. “Go on, get jetting,”

  Atesthas scowled. “Come on,” said Hesper, slapping him on the backside. “Race you.”

  ----------

  “How did it go?” asked Hesper.

  The Vet came ambling over towards the poolside. He fished a can of something out of one of the iceboxes as he passed the barbecue.

  “Fine.” said The Vet. “Good.” He cracked his can open and slurped the foam. “Tristan’s settling him down to sleep for a while. He should be ready to go once he wakes up.”

  “Great.” said Hesper. “Does Poppy know what was inside him?”

  “She’s taking a look at it now,” said The Vet. “That’s all I can tell you.”

  “Fine,” said Hesper, reaching around under her lounger for her handheld.

  “Come on, Captain,” said The Vet, patting the side of his thigh as though he was calling an animal. “Let’s have a look at you,”

  Atesthas groaned some more and shifted. He made some very awkward ‘trying to get up’ motions. The Vet realised that Atesthas actually couldn’t get up and strode over to offer assistance.

  “Just turn over onto your belly,” he instructed. He helped Atesthas to roll over, then pulled his boxers down to expose his bruised backside. Atesthas pushed his face into his folded arms. The Vet poked about at his thighs and buttocks, then pushed Atesthas’ vest up to feel around his ribcage. “Nothing broken,” was his verdict. “You’re well battered and bruised but there’s no serious damage. All I can really do is give you something for the pain. Do you want something?”

  “Please,” said Atesthas, raising his head. The Vet nodded..

  “Coming right up.”

  The Vet’s bag was in the buggy thing he had driven up in. He wandered off whistling to fetch it. Atesthas closed his eyes, head back down on his arms. “Do you want a drink, Captain?” offered Hesper.

  “Mm-mn. No thanks,”

  “Burger?”

  Atesthas didn’t bother to answer.

  The Vet came strolling back over from the car with a half-eaten burger in one gloved hand and a cartoonishly large syringe in the other, munching contentedly. “Here you go, Captain Allan, something nice for you,”

  Atesthas squirmed. “Great, shoot me up.”

  The Vet sat down on the edge of the lounger and held his burger between his teeth. He prodded at Atesthas’ bum, finding a good place for the injection.

  ----------

  “Shame that your little friend Otis had to miss the party.” said Poppy.

  “Shame for who?” asked Hesper. “I suspect he’d rather be in bed knocked unconscious than being expected to socialise.”

  “Really?”

  Hesper took a long sip of her tall glass of whatever-it-was. “That’s a guess. Haven’t known him very long.”

  They both turned to look at the near side of the pool. There was some sort of excitement taking place. Atesthas had been set upon by various house guests of Poppy’s. They were relieving him of his clothing while receiving token resistance. As Poppy and Hesper watched, Poppy’s friends pushed Atesthas into the pool. A couple of them jumped in on top of him.

  “What’s gotten into your captain?” asked Poppy.

  “Have to ask your Vet.” said Hesper. “He gave darling Atesthas a shot in the bum earlier but I can’t say what was in it,”

  “It seems to be agreeing with him, anyway,” said Poppy. “It’s probably healthy for him. Boy needs to have a bit of fun once in a while.”

  “Oh, Atesthas has plenty of fun,” said Hesper. “Just not with other people, usually.”

  Atesthas was standing in the pool, weaving slightly while everyone admired the scars and bits of leftover hardwear all over his body. Somebody started sucking on one of Atesthas’ nipples and he didn’t even protest. Someone else bonked that person with an inflatable vulture.

  “When’s your guest of honour arriving?” asked Hesper, fishing a piece of fruit out of her drink.

  “Exactly midday tomorrow so you lot are going to be off my radar at least two hours before that.” said Poppy. She took a sip of her beer. “Or I’ll vapourise that manky crate with you all on board.”

  “I know, I know.” sighed Hesper. “We’ll be gone.”

  “You’re out of ice,” said someone from behind Hesper. Hesper felt whoever it was lean on the back of her sun-lounger.

  “Never!” said Poppy, mock-horrified. She pulled her sunglasses down to peer over them. “I am never out of ice. There will be more up at the house, I guarantee it.”

  Hesper tossed her piece of mango into Poppy’s beer. She turned to see The Vet just over her shoulder. He’d finished with his latest sandwich and had an ice-less clear drink in a glass. “Looks like I’m going on a mission,” said The Vet to Hesper. “Fancy an ice run to the big house? I could use some help carrying it back,”

  Hesper looked at Poppy, who raised her eyebrows. “Sure,” said Hesper. She downed the rest of her drink. “That’s an important mission.”

  “Very” said The Vet. “Pops has told me all about your adventures when you were in the military together, so I know you’re up to it,”

  Hesper put down her glass and swung her legs around to step into her boots. Poppy pushed her sunglasses back up. “Have fun,”

  “No fun,” said Hesper. “This is serious business,”

  “Sure.”

  The Vet offered a hand to Hesper to pull her up off the lounger. She swayed just a little, light-headed, laughing as she stood up. The Vet strode off towards the woods and she jogged after him in her unlaced boots.

  Poppy looked back over at the party. “Atesthas, stop doing that in the pool.” she said. “Doctor McPhail?”

  McPhail was swimming relaxed, loose-limbed lengths of the pool. At his name he paused mid-stroke, rolling over onto his back to look up at Poppy.

  “Doctor McPhail, would you be so kind as to come along with me on Hector?” asked Poppy. “I want to take them out for a little hack and then up to the top field before it gets dark.”

  McPhail swam over to the side of the pool and hauled his long, lean tattooed body dripping out of the water. He stood up, slicking back his grey hair and wiping water off his eyes. “May I put some clothes on first?” he asked. Poppy sipped her beer and considered, looking him over.

  ----------

  “There’s our brave little soldier,” said Poppy. “How are you feeling, Otis?”

  “Great!” said Orson. He was wearing a paper sheet and still had an IV bag attached to one arm. Tristan, The Vet’s assistant, was leading him gently and carrying the IV bag. “I feel really good!” said Orson, half-leaning on Tristan. “That’s because you’re on a lot of drugs right now,” said Tristan.

  “Can I have some of those, please?” groaned Hesper. “Or you could just euthanise me, either would be fine.”

  “No drugs for you, you have to fly that thing out of here,” said Poppy. “Oh, look what Dr McPhail’s got. Well done, doctor,”

  McPhail was walking towards the AGMG from the direction of the woods. He had a very crestfallen looking Atesthas in tow.

  “Found him,” said McPhail. “Couldn’t find his clothes, though.”

  Atesthas was wrapped in a big furry-hooded parka that he was holding gathered around himself. His bare scarred legs stuck out of the bottom of it, bony feet shoved into green pool flip-flops. He looked even worse than he had the first time Orson had met him, even though he didn’t seem to have been beaten so badly this time.

  “It was all left by the pool,” said Hesper. “It’s aboard already.”

  Atesthas muttered something vaguely positive and started making a beeline for the AGMG.

  “Hey. Where do you think you’re going with my jacket, Allan?” called out Poppy. Atesthas looked down at himself. “This isn’t your jacket,” he said.

  “I don’t wear it personally but it’s the gardener’s. Which means it’s mine. Not yours. Off.”

  “Off?”

  “Off. Now.”

  “I’m just going to go aboard and get my clothes on and then I’ll bring it back out.”

  “No, you won’t. You’re going to go aboard and lock yourself in your quarters and have one of your little sessions for the next three hours. Tim will never see his jacket again.”

  “You know there’s no need to be such a bitch about everything all the time,” said Atesthas. “You can give it a rest once in a while. Just calm down a bit, you know? You don’t have to try so hard, it’s alright,”

  Poppy smiled sweetly at him. “Just take it off. We all saw everything last night anyway, didn’t we? There’s no point being shy now.”

  Atesthas said nothing. Without breaking eye contact he unwrapped his body and let the big jacket fall into a pile of fur and fabric on the lawn. Then he stepped out of the flip-flops. Keeping eye contact with Poppy he stood with his shoulders back and arms by his sides. “Happy now?” he asked. Poppy beamed. “Yes, thank you, Atesthas.” she said.

  The captain stomped off up the ramp into the AGMG. McPhail scooped up the jacket and flip-flops and took them over to Poppy. “Oh, just leave those there,” she said. “Tim can pick them up later.”

  McPhail dumped them at her feet. “Nice to see you, Poppy,” he said as she kissed him on both cheeks. “Always a pleasure, Doctor,” she said.

  McPhail walked over to Orson. “I’ll take him off your hands,” he told Tristan. The Vet’s assistant handed McPhail the IV bag with a smile. “Take good care of him” said Tristan. McPhail took one of Orson’s fat arms and led him off towards the ship.

  Poppy and Hesper turned to each other. Hesper groaned and Poppy patted her hair pityingly. “You know you don’t have to do this,” she told her friend. “You could get a normal job.”

  “So could you,” said Hesper. “And I notice you don’t, either,”

  “Of course not,”

  They hugged each other. “Good luck for today,” said Hesper.

  “Don’t need it,” said Poppy. “This meeting is a formality. A nice little afternoon tea and some light chit-chat.”

  “Well then, congratulations on your election.”

  “Thank you. I’ll see you at my party afterwards?”

  “Maybe. If I’m in the area. I’ll RSVP.”

  “Sure. Just remember that plus one doesn’t include anyone on your ship. Maybe McPhail if you tidy him up first.”

  “Okay.”

  They hugged again.

  “Now get off my loop.”

  ----------

  When Orson woke up, he wasn’t in the nice room any more. Wherever he was, it was dark. Completely dark, and noisy. He turned his head to look around and felt a stab of pain in his belly. “Ow-”

  There was a movement beside him. Orson slowly tilted his head to see. There was a small blinking orange light beside him. As he looked, trying to focus, the small light stopped blinking and switched to red.

  “Light!” yelped Orson. That hurt his tummy too. The dim bunk light came on. “Oh,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  One of the factors was in bed with him, sitting on the pillow by his head. “Dr McPhail sent me to watch Orson,” it said. Its voice sounded a bit like McPhail, but higher pitched and even quieter and coming from a single headphone speaker inside a tin can. It was still odd to hear one speak. “McPhail?”

  “Yes,”

  “Huh. He told you to watch me?”

  “Yes. Orson is not to try to get up. Orson has had abdominal surgery and he must remain relaxed.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “If Orson would like to drink some water or to pee I will assist,”

  “That doesn’t sound very relaxing,”

  “If Orson requires pain relief I will request it from a senior crew member,”

  “That’s good,” said Orson. He tried to relax his body. He straightened his neck and looked up at the ceiling of the bunk. “Is there anything you’d like me to get for you?” asked the factor.

  “I’m fine,” sighed Orson. “I think I’ll just go back to sleep now,”

  “Good.” said the factor. “Orson needs to rest.”

  “Yeah, he does,”

  “I will stay here to watch Orson.”

  “Okay,” said Orson. “Light off,”

  “Would you like me to stay here on the pillow?”

  “Yes, please.” said Orson. “I would like that.”