"Dad, look at this!" Hannah said, pointing to the glass cube.

Turning to look at it, he was not sure what he was seeing for a moment.

Things were moving in the cube, crawling and scurrying in odd little ways. They were not, however, alive.

"Tedian Moon Fluffs," the proprietor said. She looked so very aged, and yet Urle's system estimated that she was only in her late 70s. "They come from our home on Tede, and before we were driven out I brought the only mating pair!"

"They're so cute! Dad, can we get one?" Hannah asked.

"Yeah, they're really cute!" Persis added.

He'd forgotten to tell them about Brooks's order banning alien pets. It was embarrassing to be as enhanced as he was and still forget things so easily.

These weren't technically pets, though, he considered. Just little machines. If they were reasonable in price he wouldn't actually mind them.

"How much for a Fluff?" he asked.

"They do best in groups," the old woman said. "I couldn't possibly sell just one - perhaps a pair, at the least? One for each of your beautiful daughters." The woman offered them a smile, though something about it seemed sad. For a moment Urle actually sensed some honesty in the woman.

But the Fluffs were just cleverly-made machines that did a good job of acting like they were alive.

On the one hand, the scam annoyed him. But then, if they weren't alive, it meant they couldn't die, either . . .

"So how much for a pair?" he asked.

"For such rarities, I normally charge 50 credits a piece - but for you, Outlander, I'll give you a pair for just 74."

Even with the discount that price caused him to recoil slightly. 74 credits!

He was not lacking for them - in the Sapient Union they did not even use money, and External Trade Credits were something only issued for use in places that still did. But he'd only taken 100 credits, and he'd given 15 to each of the girls already.

"That price seems steep," he noted.

"But daaad, I've already named this one! She likes me," Persis said, pointing to a blue one. "Her name is Penelope."

"And what a lovely name that is!" the old woman said. "May I ask yours?"

"She's Persis," Hannah said, gesturing to her younger sister.

"And she's Hannah," Persis said, shoving her older sibling.

"Hey, don't shove!"

Urle put his arms on both girls shoulders. They calmed slightly.

"Hannah and Persis? Those are both wonderful names," the old woman said. "Those names both come from the Book of Dawn, the work of our Prophet Tede. Did you know that?"

His girls didn't reply, their confusion palpable.

It was obviously something that wasn't true; the names were ancient, Urle knew, and Ted Corran hadn't been born until the mid-22nd century.

The woman must have sensed their confusion - and potential objections. "The Lord of Dawn created all things," she added. "From the great to the small to the adorable - including Moon Fluffs!"

Wearing a kindly smile still, her eyes went to Urle. There was something almost pleading in them. She was eager for the sale, but there was also something more to it that seemed desperate.

Given the conditions here, Urle realized that such sales were probably all that kept her fed and sheltered. It was easy to forget in the SU that not everyone had the basics of life guaranteed.

He was about to agree, feeling like he was doing the right thing while also being patronizing, when a new voice spoke.

"These are machines," Ambassador Kell said.

Urle didn't know how he had approached without him feeling it; he almost always felt when Kell was near.

The Ambassador picked up the glass cube off the table, peering at the puffs inside. "They are clever, but just machines. There is no life in them."

"How dare you!" the old woman squawked. She jumped to her feet. "Put that down immediately!"

She continued to rave furiously, but Kell now only regarded her as if he was eyeing an unappetizing meal.

"Ambassador, I believe you should put that back," Urle urged.

Kell did so, but the woman continued to be furious.

"How dare you call me a liar, sir! Is this how you Union types act towards old women at home?" she demanded of Kell. "Or just those in the colonies?"

They were drawing attention, and Kell still only looked slightly curious.

"You should be calmer," the Shoggoth replied. "You are dying."

The woman's eyes widened, and both Hannah and Persis gasped in shock.

Urle felt the same way. "Ambassador!" he snapped. "I insist you leave this woman alone at once."

Kell glanced to him. "I speak only truth, Executive Officer. I believe she should see a doctor soon. There is something that grows inside her."

The old woman sat down, in shock, as Kell walked away.

Urle was too stunned to speak, either.

But he looked to the woman; his sensors had detected no abnormalities in her health on a cursory glance, but he set for a deeper scan and saw that Kell was correct. The woman had a malignant stomach cancer. It was small currently, and likely she had few if any symptoms yet.

He let his sensors scan over others nearby. He kept his scans to passive detection of chemical signals.

Several others near them had tell-tale chemical signatures that suggested they were likewise suffering from cancers.

"Let's go, girls," Urle said.

There were many sets of eyes on them, but most were on Kell, who continued to browse along the stalls, seemingly ignorant - or uncaring - of their stares.

Urle was furious at the being, yet part of him was unsure if it was correct. He sent a private message;

Ambassador, you should not be out alone - return to the ship and speak with me later.

If Kell got it immediately, he offered no reaction, just continuing to walk along the market stalls, looking at their wares.

Not wanting to wait any longer, Urle then continued moving his children along and back to the ship.

*******

Logus noted Urle walking with his daughters back towards their ship. He had not had much interest in the tourist goods of the market, but rather in the people of the colony itself.

He had brought as his buddy a simple drone that followed him silently. Honestly, it was better than a living partner in most ways, as it could watch in all directions and feed that information directly into his system.

It did seem to make the locals cautious about speaking to him, though.

Don't jump to conclusions, he told himself. Perhaps they believed he was more important than he was, given that he'd been in Captain Brooks's entourage when he'd met the governor. Or they might have been nervous of outsiders.

But there were other, darker possibilities.

Seeing how the locals glared at Kell, he wondered what the Ambassador had done. Still, there didn't seem to be any violence brewing. After observing a few more moments, he moved along the railings, deeper into the colony.

The areas that catered to outsiders soon gave way to service stations for the locals, and this was far more interesting to him.

Logus knew he stood out, but that did not concern him that much. There were a number of armed guards, and significantly more locals here. He wondered if they avoided the tourist area for the bad prices or if they were kept out.

People gave him looks, their eyes sunken and cheeks sallow. A number seemed to be waiting around a medical clinic.

Down from there he saw a comm center that advertised rates for faster-than-light messages off the colony. The price seemed exorbitant, and Logus didn't even have half the number of credits needed for sending a message.

Something caught his eye. A man was staring at him.

He had an air of forced casualness about him, but his eyes were fixed upon Logus. The spot he was standing in was somewhat boxed in by metal tubing and steam venting from a floor grate. The guards nearby were not likely to see him.

Logus had seen people like this before - desperate people.

He made his way over, looking at the store fronts and signs. He walked past the man - he saw the man twitch, as if wanting to reach out and grab his arm, but an armed guard moved past and the man just as quickly went back to looking casual.

Logus stopped outside the message center at an information kiosk. Still paying some attention to the man, he began to scroll through the available local entertainment and news channels.

It was nearly all imported, much of it from deeper in the system. What was from outside was at least a decade old; he knew that often these colonies would buy tens of thousands of hours of old serials and sporting events in one block and that was the entirety of their entertainment.

Seeing the selection, Logus had the feeling that they'd gotten ripped off by some trader. Many of the shows were low in quality and were older than he was. There were none of the famous Dessei sitcoms or Qlerning dramas - but a lot of human sporting events. Everything seemed to be made with humans, but looked like the low-budget media that the Aeena studios were famous for.

That guard was still dawdling. He seemed at least somewhat suspicious of the desperate man, and so Logus resolutely kept from glancing at him, focusing on the various info channels.

He'd almost reached the end. He recognized a few shows, but realized that most non-humans in them had been edited out crudely. It seemed remarkably xenophobic.

The guard finally moved on, and the desperate looking man peeled away from his spot and drifted over.

"Need help finding anything, outlander?" he asked.

"I think I'm getting around all right," Logus replied. "In a way, I envy you on the frontier. There must be so much excitement out expanding humanity's presence in space."

His words were jovial, but he kept his face serious. He hoped the man understood.

He clearly did. Something flickered in his eyes.

"I want to get out of here," the man whispered. "Please. Take me out on your ship."

Logus was surprised; the man was being much more forward than he'd expected. "Are you in trouble with the law here?" he asked.

"No, nonono," the man said. He moved almost jerkily, like a man barely holding himself together. "I just can't stay here anymore. I have to get out."

"I'd like to know why," Logus said earnestly.

"You can help me, then?" the man asked.

"I can't promise anything, but I'm sympathetic," Logus said. "I need to know more."

The man was silent. His lower lip twitched, as if he wanted to speak, but he was struggling to find words - any words.

"I've lost too much," the man finally said. A fire seemed to have entered his eyes, a silent warning.

Logus could tell he needed to back off. "I see. May I have your name?"

"No names," the man said. "Not until I know where you stand."

"I'll have to talk to the Captain," Logus said. "However, my recommendation to him will be to allow you to leave with us."

The man nodded. "All right. All right, that's . . . thank you."

Logus nodded towards the message center. "Have you tried contacting anyone before now?"

"Oh no, nono," the man said. "They monitor every message. They don't want anyone to know. They have secrets here, outlander. Secrets that . . ."

His words trailed off, and he suddenly smiled. "You're not bad for an outlander." He gave a jaunty wave and moved away without another word.

Logus casually looked around and saw the guard. His gaze was on the retreating man, but did not linger as Logus waved to him.

The guard forced a smile and approached.

"You've wandered far, sir," the guard said. "Are you lost?"

"Oh no," Logus said. "I was just quite taken with your colony. I don't suppose there's any local music scene?"

The guard chuckled and waved him along. Logus noted that he lacked the same wasted look of many of the others. If anything, he seemed close to overweight.

He led Logus down the street, around a corner, and through a closed gate. For a moment Logus thought he was being led somewhere dangerous, but once the gate opened he realized it was something else entirely; a red light district.

"This might be more your speed," the guard said. "Try the Roxy and ask for Saint Collette. Girl is creative as hell."

Logus forced a smile to the man. His eyes travelled through the tunnel. It was narrow, scarcely with room for three men to walk side by side. The storefronts all offered something warm and human, or at least a close proximity. Outside of some, the 'wares' stood, in outfits that left nothing to the imagination. None of the girls looked healthy, but their health was largely hidden behind intricate, swirling tattoos that covered large portions of their bodies.

The guard had left already, and Logus considered for a moment talking to one of the girls. But behind them, lurking in shadows, he saw other men, with flinty eyes. They didn't have uniforms or obvious weapons, but were all the more alarming for it.

Logus stepped back out through the gate.