//Encrypted Insert//123Y35S98J37-A//For The Eyes Of Mr. Zheng Kuan Tao Only// "Okay, Tao, before you get all huffy about me sugarcoating why I left, ask yourself this: Do you really want Te and Xiaolan hearing that I had to get off world because the Board of Directors at 1000 Hands blackballed me? Or that I've spent three of the last Six Years on a tour of the insides of various whiskey bottles? Didn't think so. Don't worry, I'm not trying to bulls**t you, brother of mine. I'll give Ding and the kids the cleaned up version, and give you the real poop in these Encrypted Inserts. Oh, by the way, do me a favor and wipe these inserts from the card when you're through?"//End of Insert//

//Encrypted Insert//123Y35S98J37-B//For The Eyes Of Mr. Zheng Kuan Tao Only// All Right, to do MacMurray justice, by the time that I got low enough to take a berth on the Clay Pigeon, my reputation was so shot that the only reason that he took me was that Wild Card chip. That and the fact that I finally hit the bottom and got an AA chip put in. <turns around, and taps firmwired software chip> I put it in three years ago, and haven't taken it out since. Not even during the Prosperity Queen episode.//End of Insert//

//Video Insert//123Y35S98J37-V:1// Shot of a ship's bridge, as seen from the front, centered on the captain's chair. The layout of the bridge is a classic radial design, the captain's chair at the center, with a concetric ring of banks of controls and benches arranged around it. The main screens are 'forward' from the captain's chair, and are displayed in the shot as an inset. The bridge is fully manned, but the level of activity is atypical, judging from the cramped way that the crew is elbowing around each other and constantly moving empty cups and snack wrappers out of the way.

[Voiceover: The bridge was probably the best part of the entire ship - I always wondered where MacMurray scrounged it from. I think it may have been the bridge for a Rangers' Cruiser, because it had a Tac/Ops screen, with which most ships don't bother.]

            The door to the bridge opens, and Dr. Zheng slouches in. He looks sloppy, overweight and ill kempt. He walks over to the captain's chair.

            Dr. Z: "You rang, Mon Capitain?"

            Captain MacMurray turns to Dr. Zheng. MacMurray is a trim fortyish, with reddish hair and mustache that need trimming, While his 'uniform' is neater than Dr. Zheng's, it is still far from in inspection trim.

            Capt. M: "Hey, Doctor Bob! You ready to start actually earning your pay?

            Shot of Screen A, which is displaying several images of a long freighter which appears to have become caught on an asteroid. There are a long range shot, a close range shot, a close range shot of where the ship is entangled with the asteroid and shots of the freighter's Command Module, Propulsion Module, Life Support rings, and Freight Modules.

            Capt. M: "What makes you think there's going to be any salvage?"

            Dr. Z:  "Well, of course there's going to be salvage! The only way there wouldn't be salvage is if there were crew alive aboard her. And there's no way that any decent crew wouldn't be able to get their ship off of that rock. From the way that it's wedged in, it looks like it just drifted on, and there's no way that could have happened if there were anyone at the helm."

            Capt. M: "That's what _I_ thought, Sawbones. But their SOS beacon says that there's crew in Stasis."

            Dr. Z: "Bummer. If there's crew in Stasis, then there's no salvage rights, any Sea Lawyer knows that. _And_ you can't just fly by and leave them there, 'cause there are Nav Board Regs against it, and contact is registered in your Flight Recorder, right?"

            Capt. M: "More or less. But what would send the entire crew of a ship that looks to be shipshape and Bristol fashioned into Stasis?"

            Dr. Z: "You're asking _me_? I just walked into the middle of this movie."

            Capt. M: "You're supposed to be someone who knows something about this sort of thing."

            Dr. Z: "Oh. I see. You think that it's some kind of virus or bacteria."

            Capt. M: "OR a toxic airborne pollutant that the Life Support couldn't handle, OR they have clams as part of the Life Support system, and there wasn't an 'R' in the month, or-"

            Dr. Z: "No."

            Capt. M: "No what?"

            Dr. Z: "No, I am NOT going in there with the Canaries." [Subscript: 'Canaries' is a term for the teams that are sent in first to check out hazardous situations. There is some debate as to whether the term comes from the bright yellow suits that they traditionally wear, or from the Old Earth practice of keeping canaries with miners to check for deadly gasses; when the birds died, the miner knew that shaft was dangerous.]

            Capt. M: "You will if I order you to."

            Dr. Z: "And I could legally ignore that order. In the Standard Spacefarer's Procedure Code, Chapter 15, Section AB, subsection 4: 'In case of investigation of possible Extra-terrestial life, Shipwreck, or other High Hazard Probability situations, the captain cannot order those officers with skills vital and irreplacible to the survival and running of the ship to expose themselves to unneccessary danger. Among those are the Chief Engineer, the Pilot, the Navigator, and the Ship's Doctor.' Y'know, the 'Captain Kirk' Clause?"

            Capt. M: "Yeah, but it also states in subsection _6_ that 'Biological threats must be evaluated as by the most qualified investigator available.' Y'know, the 'Chicken s**t doctor ain't weaselin' outta this one' Clause?"

            Dr. Z: "Maybe. But we don't know that there IS a biological threat. When and _if_ the Canaries find something that suggests a biological and not engineering or criminal cause to that wreck, I'll go in."

            Capt. M: "Yer a real hero, Doctor Bob."

            Dr. Z: "Hey, I ain't stupid, I ain't expendible, and I AIN'T GOIN'."

//Encrypted Insert//123Y35S98J37-C//For The Eyes Of Mr. Zheng Kuan Tao Only// As you may have guessed, MacMurray and I didn't have a lot of use for each other. He had me pegged as a lazy, self-absorbed rummy, and I thought he was a shallow, selfish, opportunistic Roundeyed daydream believer. The man thought that he was some kind of Hollywood badboy hero; it made him do stupid things that the rest of the crew hadda dig him out of. End of Insert//

            Capt. M: "Well, will you at least keep watch while the Canaries go in, to give us your 'expert' opinion?

            Dr. Z: "Well, since you ask so nicely. But first get me a chair - I've been on my feet for six hours straight, helping Pederson track down that clog."

[Voiceover: I'll spare you the next six hours of closing in on the ship, MacMurray bullying the poor yoyos who didn't have Regulations saying why they didn't have to go into the Canary suits, and sending over the shuttle. According to the pertinents given by the SOS Beacon, the ship was the Prosperity Queen, the beacon had been running for 15 Standard Months, and there were people in Stasis. Normally, SOS beacons are supposed to also provide some idea of what the cause of the distress was, but this one didn't. Things like that tend to worry me.]

            Capt. M: "Okay, this is for the record - I am Captain Evan James MacMurray of the Independent Freighter Yankee Eagle, Registry #81T882F424H51, registered out of Singapore. The date is August 10^th, 2243, the time is 13:45 GMT. I officially declare that I am sending an Investigation team, lead by Able-bodied Spacer Jyotiranjan Singh, over to the derelict Freighter Prosperity Queen, Registry # 19R539Y933K74 registered to the Havilland Line, out of Lichtenstein, to determine if the passengers and/or crew in Stasis are still alive. The reasons for the Prosperity Queen's derelict condition are not obvious and still unknown. Our priorities are, in order: To determine the condition of the passengers and/or crew in Stasis; if any or all of them are alive, to ensure their survival; to determine the cause of the Prosperity Queen's derelict condition, and relay that information to the Central Navigation Authority, to prevent such a tragedy from happening again; and lastly to secure the Prosperity Queen, so that the hulk or its debris does not become a hazard to insystem navigation. Should the conditions arise, I would like to make a formal declaration of our intention of claiming Salvage Rights to the Prosperity Queen and its cargo, as per Standard Spacefarer's Procedure Code, Chapter 8, Section CE, subsection 7, for myself and the crew of the Yankee Eagle."

            Dr. Z: "AAA-meeennn."

            Capt. M. "Okay, guys, let's go get us some G*****n Salvage!"//End of Video Insert//

            <Face Shot> "I'll spare you the play by play on getting the 'Canaries' into their suits and the shuttle. Some of those guys are still around, and kinda touchy. Anyway, we sent the shuttle over and they pried the cargo hatch open."

//Video Insert//123Y35S98J37-V:2// Moving shot from a helmet mounted camera.

            Voice: "Okay, we're in." Pan through a large airlock, into a loading bay.

            Capt. M. "Okay, Sepetturan, look around for the I/O junction. Sparks, where would the nearest I/O juncion be? Oh. Jyotiranjan, look to your right, about three feet.

            JS: "Right. Found it." Closeup of a data-terminal.

            Capt. M: "Okay, Jyoti, link us up, and Sparks should be able to give you some lights in a few minutes. In the meantime, look around the cargo bay and secure the area."

            JS: "Well, Lads, you heard Captain Kirk-" [Subscript: 'Captain Kirk' is a less than flattering term for a captain who needlessly gets his/her crew in trouble] "- let's secure the bleedin' area!" Sweeping shots of the cargo bay. "Hold on - Eagle, we've found something..."

            Capt. M: "Well, don't let's keep us in suspense, Jyoti!Give us a clear shot!

            Close-up of a human skeleton wearing a crewman's jumpsuit.

            Capt. M: "Christ, Krishna and Kwannon!"

            Dr. Z: "Jyoti, would you give me a closer look?"  Camera pans slightly closer to the skeleton. "Okay, Jyoti, would you move the jumpsuit a little?"

            JS: "NO!"

            Dr Z: "Okay, I can respect that. Cap'n, call the shuttle back, I gotta go over there. Hardwick, see if you can scrounge me up an environment suit that'll fit me."

            Capt. M: "Ah, Doctor Bob, are you sure about that? I mean, if Wayne goes through all the trouble of finding you a suit, you're gonna have to really go over there."

            Dr. Z: "Yes, Captain, I am very serious. Captain, that skeleton is impossible! I just double-checked the data-squirt from the Prosperity Queen's distress beacon and the external conditions readings from the Canaries' suits. The Queen's been there for 15 months, and that cargo bay is roughly 40 degrees Fahrenheit, with 75% standard pressurization. Life support must be operating well enough to have most of the ship on Standby. _But_, even if that guy was the first crewman to die, fifteen months is not enough time for the flesh to decay off, especially at Standby conditions! After fifteen months, he should be pretty d**n disgusting, but he shouldn't be a clean skeleton!"

            Capt M: As if grasping for straws "Rats ate 'em?"

            Dr. Z: "And leave the jumpsuit? And why would rats eat his hair? Captain, I have to get a better look at that skeleton. We don't dare bring it over here, so I'm going over there."

            Capt M: "Well, Way to get with the program, Doctor _Bob_!"

            Dr. Z: Jyoti, have some of your guys get that... guy.. on a pallet and try to locate the SickBay. Leave it there, I'll be there in a few hours."// End of Video Insert//

//Video Insert//123Y35S98J37-V:4// <Intercom Shot of Jyotiranjan Singh> JS: "Hey, Doc! Heads up! We found the Stasis Pods!"

<Intercom Shot of Dr. Zheng> Dr. Z: "All right. How many of them are there?"

<Intercom Shot of Jyotiranjan Singh> JS: "Over a hundred and fifty."

<Intercom Shot of Dr. Zheng> Dr. Z: "A hundred and fifty! Oh, Captain Courageous isn't gonna be happy about this!"

<Intercom Shot of Jyotiranjan Singh> JS: "Oh, I dunno about That, Doc - can passengers and corpses claim salvage rights?"

<Intercom Shot of Dr. Zheng> Dr. Z: "Well, of course corpses can't claim salvage rights! And as for passengers, I think the rule is that all claimants have to provide material assistance for the recovery of the vessel; unless they can show that they did anything except get stuffed into Stasis by the crew, they're outta luck."

<Intercom Shot of Jyotiranjan Singh> JS: "Well, we got what looks to be about sixty passengers, and ninty of those bloated deformed assholes. And if they ain't dead, they're gonna wish they were!"

<Intercom Shot of Dr. Zheng> Dr. Z: "Jyoti, how can you be sure that the first lot are passengers?"

<Intercom Shot of Jyotiranjan Singh> JS: "Doctor Bob, if they ain't passengers, then I'd pay good money to ship out on whatever boat they crew on!

<Intercom Shot of Dr. Zheng> Dr. Z: "Hunh?"

<Intercom Shot of Jyotiranjan Singh> JS: "Doc, Believe Me, you gotta see this for yourself! Besides, you're the only one accredited to bring them out of Stasis."

<Intercom Shot of Dr. Zheng> Dr. Z: "Why don't you wheel one or two of the pods up here to Sick Bay?"

<Intercom Shot of Jyotiranjan Singh> JS: "Ah, Doc, I'd really rather have an officer make the decision of which ones to bring up." // End of Video Insert//

[Voiceover: It may seem like Jyoti was passing a pretty petty buck, but he knows that the deck is pretty much stacked against Hindis in Space, and he doesn't take any chances that he doesn't have to. He gave me directions to where the Pods were stored. Oddly, the Pods had been moved from their usual location to one of the Cargo Modules. At the time, it just seemed odd. Then the reason became clear, and it was very useful.]

//Video Insert//123Y35S98J37-V:5// travelling shot of Cargo Module, lined with Stasis Pods. Figure in bright yellow 'Canary' suit waves to camera.

            JS: "Hey, Doc! I think these were the last ones to go in."

            Dr. Z: "Well then, logically, they should be the crew; they'd be the last ones to go into Stasis - that is unless for some reason they decided not to... Or couldn't..."

            JS: "Whatever... Anyway check this out!" Singh pops the window plate covering the face region and turns on a light. Inside, obviously in a deep sleep with an oxygen cannula in her nose, is an extremely attractive young Asian ethnic woman in her early 20's with jaw-length black hair.

            Dr. Z:  "<The Chinese equivalent of 'Whoa, Momma!>"

            JS: "You think She's something? Check this one out!" Singh pops the window plate on another Stasis Pod and turns on the light. Inside is an extremely attractive young Hindi woman in her early 20's with shoulder-length hair. "Oh, maaannn, no caste mark, but with that bone structure, you just gotta know that she's got Khshatrya blood or better in her.."  Singh presses his pelvic area against the Stasis Pod and grinds against it.

            Dr. Z: "Yeah, and if her father ever saw you doin' that, he'd probably take you out of the gene pool with a single gelding swipe of his sword!"

            JS: "Mebbeee - but a man can dream, can't he?" Singh lays the side of his helmet against the Stasis Pod.

            Dr. Z: "Jyoti, if I could, I'd write you a doctor's note saying that you need to get laid for medical reasons, for your next pub crawl, but I can't."

            JS: "Oh well, it wouldn't be the same anyway - I'd be thinkin' of her..."

            Dr. Z: "Okay let's see if we can get anything on them." Accesses the Pod's database. "Weird. No identification; just jumped in and plugged in. Hmmm... It says that she has a Neural Interface and an EVII chip. Those are d**n expensive, so she can't just be a joygirl. Maybe some executive's assistant or sumthin'." Checks the databases of the next two Pods with non-degenerate occupants. "These two also have Neural Interfaces. And this one is also female..."

            JS: "Doc - we checked. ALL the people in Stasis who didn't get all warped out of shape are broads. Looks like it's party time on the Clay Pigeon to-nite!"

            Dr. Z: "Jyoti, the only reason that I'm gonna bring these three out of Stasis is that they can tell us what was happening when they got put under. I'm choosing these three because they were the last to get put under, and they have Neural Linkages."

            JS: "And what, pray tell, is so hot about a chick with a Neural Link?"

            Dr. Z: "Hey, Bimbos don't get Neural Links - only people with a real reason to spend that kind of money. People like engineers, pilots and doctors. People who have a much better chance of knowing what's going on than your basic mop-jockey."

            JS. "Big talk, coming from a guy who just spent six hours fishing a rat out of a shrimp trap."

            Dr. Z: "Jyoti, just get your guys and have them wheel these three up to Sick Bay. I'll be up there, getting it ready."

            JS: "But Doc - what about the other broads?"

            Dr. Z: "Jyoti, it's gonna be enough of a risk bringing these three out. Bringing all of them out would be an unacceptable hazard. Besides, it would take too long, we don't have enough to feed all of them on the Pigeon, and having that many women wandering around the ship would be a dangerous distraction to the crew."

            JS: "Hey, Doc - we could shuttle some of the food from the Princess' stores over to the Pigeon!"

            Dr. Z: "Not until we figure out what did this to these other guys. Just get these three up to Sick Bay, okay?"

            JS: "Ahhh, Maaannnn...."

            Dr. Z: "Jyoti, get your brains out of your boxers." // End of Video Insert//

//Video Insert//123Y35S98J37-V:6// Inside overhead shot of SickBay. Stasis Pod is open, and Dr. Zheng is gingerly unhooking and pulling out the occupant. The Occupant is an extremely attractive young African ethnic woman in her early twenties with short hair. Dr. Zheng deposits her on a medical cot, uncurls her from the Stasis fetal position, and hooks up the IV and Neural Linkages to Life Support.

            Dr. Z: <Into recorder> The third patient is also female. She appears to be of African descent, 256 decimeters in height and 253.5 kilograms in weight-"

            Third Mate Byner enters. 3^rd Mate Byner: "And Stacked, Doctor Bob, don't forget stacked!"

            Dr. Z: "-and in very...no, extremely fit physical condition, especially after a prolonged period in Stasis. So, Byner, what's the good word?"

            3^rd Mate Byner: "Well, Sparks says that he has good news and bad news..."

            Dr. Z: "Oh lovely - it's Comedy Night. Okay, what's the good news?"

            3^rd Mate Byner: "The good news is that he's got most of the Black Box data unscrambled, and he recognizes the damage pattern."

            Dr. Z: "Okay, that's pretty good news. Now for the punchline - what's the bad news?"

            3^rd Mate Byner: "The bad news is that the damage pattern is your basic idiots playing with the pretty lights mis-cues and like that. He says that there's lots of overwriting and data field merging. What he can't get, is just plain gone."

            Dr. Z: "What about the Life Support Anti-Contagion Monitors and the Mess Hall Food Purity Monitors?"

            3^rd Mate Byner: "That's part of the good news. Life Support records show nothing but a few benign molds and a couple of bursts of anti-personnel aerosols in the air intakes for the ten days before they went into Stasis. And Mess Hall shows absolutely bupkis. So, when will we be able to talk to Mopsy or Cotton?"

            Dr. Z: "Mopsy?"

            3^rd Mate Byner: "Y'know - Flopsy -" Byner points at the African, "- Mopsy -" he points at the Hindi, "and Cottontail," he points at the Asian.

            Dr. Z: "Y'know, Byner, if you are very nice to me, I won't tell them about that when they come to."

            3^rd Mate Byner: "Oh, you know what their names are?"

            Dr. Z: "No, not really. There were names on the coveralls that they were wearing, but the coveralls don't fit, and the names belong to senior members of the crew. Whatever the girls were wearing, just before they went in, must not have been suitable for an extended stay in Stasis, so they must have borrowed what was available."

            3^rd Mate Byner: "Don't the Stasis Pod databanks have anything on them?"

            Dr. Z: "Nope. They didn't load any of the Pods with the usual personal information, not even names. The only thing that I was able to get from the black boxes was that it took the people putting them under two or three tries to get it right. 'Flopsy' over there had to risk doing it completely automated. Luckily, she had a Neural Interface and an IV duct already implanted, so it wasn't that big a risk."

            3^rd Mate Byner: "Okay, well, the Skipper wants to talk to them ASAP-"

            Dr. Z: "Him and every other guy on the ship. But after fifteen months under, there's definitely gonna be some Russian Lag." [Subscript: Stasis is an advanced version of what was called 'Russian Sleep', in which the body's metabolism is slowed down to an almost complete stop. After prolonged periods in Stasis, most people experience periods of  disorientation, difficulty in thinking and mild amnesia. This is called 'Russian Lag'.] 

            3^rd Mate Byner. "So, any ideas of what happened, yet?"

            Dr. Z: "Nope. This doesn't fit any of the listed occurrences of viral, bacteriological, myocotal, or xeno-biotal contamination, and it doesn't fit with any recorded radiation exposure signatures. Oh, by the way, if you see any white rats running around, leave 'em be. I force-cloned up a batch and let 'em loose on the ship. They've been modified with human DNA analogs, so they can catch diseases that affect us, and will react the same way. I let 'em loose with status trackers, so that if there is some kind of bug floating around, hopefully they'll run into it before any of us do. If you see any of them lying around dead, or obviously sick, quarantine the area, and call me. Oh yeah - and leave some food lying around for them; the captain won't want them getting hungry and chewing on the wiring."

            3^rd Mate Byner: "You gonna force-clone us up a cat, for when this is all over and we won't need the little squeakers?"

            Dr. Z: "No need - they cloned up sterile, and their higher brain functions will start breaking down inside a month."

            3^rd Mate Byner: "I thought clones weren't that smart to begin with."

            Dr. Z: "Not the ones that we have to deal with out here, anyway. Clone-crewmen have to be force-matured and RNA educated to be cost effective. So the companies that produce and 'adopt' them, design them with stripped DNAs and limited mentalities, so the force-growth and RNA assimilation are more effective."

            3^rd Mate Byner: "Gee, and I thought it was 'cause the Brass likes the idea of simple minded bolt-jockeys who think of the Company as mother and father, and won't join Unions or go on strike."

            Dr. Z: "That, too."// End of Video Insert//

//Video Insert//123Y35S98J37-V:7// Overhead shot of the Yankee Eagle's Mess Hall. All Ship's Officers and NCOs are in attendence. Most are sitting, several are standing. The arrangement is semi-formal/casual.

            Capt. M: "Okay, this is for the record - I am Captain Evan James MacMurray of the Independent Freighter Yankee Eagle, Registry #81T882F424H51, registered out of Singapore. The date is August 16^th, 2243, the time is 21:10 GMT. I am officially calling for a decision by the Ship's Officers and Mates as to the official course of action to be taken as to the situation regarding the derelict vessel Prosperity Queen. The main question at hand is whether to tow the Prosperity Queen into the nearest port and claim Salvage Rights, or to move the Cargo Module containing the viable Stasis Pods over to the Yankee Eagle, leave a Yellow Jack beacon [Subscript: a 'Yellow Jack' is a stationary beacon that warns passing ships of a contagion aboard a vessel. The term dates back to flags flown for similar purposes by pre-Spacetravel Earth sea-going vessels] and continue on to the nearest port of call, claiming a smaller Finder's Fee."

            Dr. Z: "For the record - I am Doctor Zheng Kuan Tan, M.D., Ship's Doctor and Science Officer. I officially recommend the latter course of action. The...condition that swept the Prosperity Queen remains a complete mystery. It fits no known biological, radiological or chemical agent know to me or the Medical Lexicons of either ship. The Prosperity Queen's Doctor, Dr. Shinji Kesiruji, had ten days to research the condition and found nothing. There is no sign of any contaminant in the Prosperity Queen's Life Support systems or in the Ship's Kitchen equipment. We can't assume that whatever phenomenon caused the degeneration and insanity of the majority of that ship's passengers and crew has simply lapsed. In addition, three of the twenty-five cloned rats that I let loose on the Prosperity Queen are dead, though they crawled into spaces too cramped for me get at to die, so I can't analyze the bodies."

            1^st Mate H: "Yeah, well, maybe if you laid off the dumplings a little, you might be able to squeeze in there, Doctor Bob!"

            2^nd Mate Kaustmeier: "Knock it off, Wayne! Dr. Z's just doin' his job."

            3^rd Mate Byner: " Doc, you told me that you put status trackers on the little varmints. What did they read?"

            Dr. Z: "That's what really bothers me - their readings were okay, then suddenly, one at a time, their readings went totally haywire, and *poof!* nothing! Suddenly, all I'm getting is a location reading from the tracker."

            Capt. M: "Hey, Doctor Bob - did it ever occur to you that maybe your little cheese raiders just bit a live wire or sum'thin'?"

            Dr. Z: "Why would they do that? Byner put out plates of food for them. Why would they eat at wiring that's vermin-proofed, if they have tastier stuff right at paw?"

            1^st Mate H: "The Skipper's point is, that it could'a been any of a thousand things, none of which were connected with whatever screwed up the crew of the Queen."

            2^nd Mate K. "But that still doesn't explain what did screw up the crew of the Queen."

            3^rd Mate B. "Personally, I vote for a really bad batch of whatever the Havilland Line was selling their crewmen to keep 'em buzzing and not talking Union. The Brass had some one selling some kind of happy pills, and their chemist really screwed up. It probably had some kind of accumulative effect, and the guys who were on the dope went nuts."

            Dr Z. "And the degeneration?"

            3^rd Mate B. "A really nasty side effect. That's why the passengers weren't effected by the dope. It was only passing around among the crew."

            2^nd Mate K. "Okay, but why can't we find any mention on the Passenger Lists of the women we found?"

            Comm Officer Fagall. "There are huge holes in both the Manifest and Passengers lists. Murphy's Law states that their listings are in the missing parts."

            Dr Z: "THAT'S MY POINT! MURPHY'S LAW! There is something out there that killed over two hundred people on that ship! Murphy's Law states that it didn't lapse, it's just gone dormant or something, and it'll become active the split second that we dock at Lavoisier! It'll probably kill us all and everyone on Lavoisier!"

            Capt. M. "Doctor Bob, it's been four days. If your mystery bug was gonna do something, it woulda done it by now. Jyoti and his boys have been on semi-quarantine over on the Queen, and all that they're coming down with is Cabin Fever. How about this? We leave a skeleton crew on the Queen, fix up the engines so that they can limp along with us, and we tow her into Lavoisier. We tell Lavoisier Control that it's a possible Plague Ship, and they put it into a Quarantine orbit. All of us do our Quarantine time in a dirtside hospital. When they let us out with a clean bill of health, we can still get our Salvage claim. I say we put it to a vote."

            The vote passes, Twleve to Three.// End of Video Insert//

//Encrypted Insert//123Y35S98J37-D//For The Eyes Of Mr. Zheng Kuan Tao Only// Overhead shot of the SickBay in the Yankee Eagle. Dr. Zheng is examining the young Hindi woman called 'Mopsy'.

            Dr Z: "Okay, miss-"

            'Mopsy'. "Call me Mopsy - everybody does."

            Dr Z. <sigh> "Okay - Mopsy - just look into the visor and tell me what square the red dot is in."

            'Mopsy'. "Why is that TV show going on? What does it have to do with the red dot?"

            Dr Z: "It's very complicated, Mopsy - basically it's a way of getting your brain to do certain things at certain times, while this other doohickey over here watches."

            'Mopsy'. "Why do I have to do that, Doctor Bob?"

            Dr Z. "Don't call me - oh, never mind! I just have to be sure that your brain is working all right, before we put you back in Stasis."

            'Mopsy'. "Stasis?"

            Dr Z. "Don't worry, it won't hurt. It's like going to sleep, and waking up a long time later, but your body thinks that it's only been a few days. Your metabolism slows down... though, come to think of it, your temperature was very high for someone in Stasis. So were Floppy's and Cotton's..."

            'Mopsy'. "Doctor Bob, why do we have to go back in Stasis?"

            Dr Z. "Well, you won't be missing much. Traveling in space is either very boring or very dangerous.

            'Mopsy'. "Why would it be boring? Couldn't we just play?"

            Dr Z: "Play?"

            'Mopsy': Smiles broadly. "Sure! You know - play!" She begins to unzip the front of her jumpsuit, revealing large bouncing breasts with large dark aureolas.

            Dr Z. "Have you been, ah, playing with other members of the crew?"

            'Mopsy'. "Oh, sure! It's FUN! Wouldn't you like to play with me?" She starts to shuck the shoulders of her jumpsuit off.

            Dr Z. "Ah - I'm Sorry, Mopsy, but I can't. I'm On Duty, and there are regulations against that sort of thing."

            'Mopsy'. "Oh, Pooh!"

            Dr Z. "D****t, at the very least Marlene Prisker could offer to lend you a bra or loan Wayland a template so that he could fabricate one for you." Dr. Zheng helps 'Mopsy' put her jumpsuit straight and zips up her front. He stares at her front. He zips the slide up and down several times. "Lord Ganesha, Remover of Obstacles, Thank you a thousand times!"

            'Mopsy'. "Are we going to play?"

            Dr Z. "No, Mopsy, as much as I'd love to, I just figured something out. I'm going to be very busy, so will you tell Flopsy and Cotton that I won't need to see them, and you won't be going into Stasis for a few days."

            'Mopsy'. "Oh, Goodie!"

            Dr Z. "Oh, and one more thing - would you go find, uhm, Second Mate Mr. Kaustmeier and tell him about all the games that you've been playing? And the men that you've been playing with?"

            'Mopsy'. "Sure! Byyyyeee!"

            Dr. Z: Punches in code on ship's intercom. "Hello, Sparks? I think I just hit onto something. I'm gonna need your help in constructing a few computer models-".// End of Video Insert//

//Video Insert//123Y35S98J37-V: 8// Security Cam footage from the Prosperity Queen's Main Propulsion Module. Captain MacMurray, Yankee Eagle Chief Engineer Kozlaczki and three Engineer's Mates are going over the Propulsion Intake Valve,

            Capt. M. "-Okay, what if we completely dump all the atmosphere and the water from Life Support? That's gotta be at least twenty tons right there..." Captain MacMurray is interrupted by an intercom beep.

            Comm Officer Fagall: "Skipper, this is Sparks. I was just talking with Dr. Z, and-"

            Capt. M: "Yeah, what's Fatso up to now?"

            Com Off F: "Well, Doc says that it's real important and we gotta get out of here-"

            Capt. M: "Is he still on that?"

            Com Off F: "Well, he did say something about the coffee having real creamer..."

            Capt. M: "Jesus Christ, the man has completely gone around the bend."

            Com Off F: "No, Skipper, I think he's really onto something. He's had me working on a few computer models..."

            Capt. M: "Sparks - you can make computers show you anything that you want them to. You ought to know that. So, unless Doctor Bob comes up with something material to show me, or he's willing to risk what little credibility that he's got by evoking General Order 23, I _don't want to hear from him_, at least until we've got this hunk of junk hauling mass!"

            Com Off F: "Roger that, Skipper - I'll pass it along." // End of Video Insert//

//Video Insert//123Y35S98J37-V: 9//Bridge of the Yankee Eagle. First Officer Hardwin has the Com. Ship's intercom sounds.

            1^st Mate H. "Bridge. Hardwin on duty."

            Dr. Z. "Hardwin, this is Doctor Zheng-"

            1^st Mate H. "Hey, Doctor Bob! Haven't heard from you in a few days! Whatcha been up to, curing the Common Cold? Or have you been nursing a sick bottle?"

            Dr. Z. "F**k you, Hardwin. Tell 'Captain Kirk' that I'm evoking General Order 23. As per Standard Spacefarer's Procedure Code, General Order 23: "In a situation of grave medical crisis, where the lives or general health of a ship are being endangered by the actions of the Ship's Captain-"

            1^st Mate H: "Yeah, yeah, I know the Regs! But you better know the Regs, too, Quack! If you evoke General Order 23, and can't make it stick, the Captain's got a prima facie case of Mutiny against you; the best you can hope for is that your share of the Salvage goes bye-bye. But the way the Captain's feeling these days, I'm betting that he chucks your fat ass out an airlock!"

            Dr. Z. "Spare me. Just call a Ship's Council. In the next four hours. We don't have a lot of time to waste."

            1^st Mate H. "Okay, it's your funeral. By the way, Doctor Bob, what's wrong with your voice?"

            Dr. Z. "You'll find out at the Ship's Council. Out."

            1^st Mate H. "Oh well, at least it'll be more amusing than a five month old download of Days of Our Lives." Switches frequencies. "Yo, Ev! Haul Mass over here, pronto! Doctor Bob just evoked General Order 23!"

            Capt. M: "What? I'm gonna use his balls for a bow tie! //End of Video Insert//

//Video Insert//123Y35S98J37-V: 10//Overhead shot of the Yankee Eagle's Mess Hall. All Ship's Officers and NCOs are in attendance, including three female ratings. Most are sitting, several are standing. Arrangement is hurried, with crewmen talking curiously among themselves.

            Capt. M: "Okay, this is for the record - I am Captain Evan James MacMurray of the Independent Freighter Yankee Eagle, Registry #81T882F424H51, registered out of Singapore. The date is August 23^rd, 2243, the time is 08:25 GMT. I am officially stating that Doctor Zheng Kuan Tan, MD, our Ship's Doctor, has formally evoked General Order 23." Interested comments and murmurs. "On the off chance that anyone here doesn't remember their Standard Spacefarer's Procedure, that means that the good doctor thinks that he has sufficient cause and proof to declare a Medical Emergency and override the decision made in Ship's Council as of August 16^th, 2243. However, may I point out, that despite having called this Ship's Council and being very insistent as to the timing, that Doctor Zheng is nowhere to be seen-"

            Captain MacMurray is interrupted in mid-sentence as the door to the Mess Hall opens and an extremely attractive young Asian ethnic woman in her early twenties with short black hair enters the Hall, followed by Communications Officer Fagall and Able Bodied Spacefarer Asharna Daityas, who are wheeling a wide screen hologrammic display screen from Rec Hall into the Mess Hall.

            Extremely attractive young Asian ethnic woman in her early twenties. "My apologies for being late, gentlemen, but there were some difficulties getting the 3-D set up."

            Capt. M. "Hell, I don't mind, but who the hell are you? Don't tell me that fat fool Doctor Bob brought another one out of Stasis! He-"

            Extremely attractive young Asian ethnic woman in her early twenties: "I am Doctor Zheng Kuan Tan. I called this Emergency Meeting of the Ship's Council." This declaration is met by hoots and derision.

            2^nd Mate K. "Aaahh... Skipper, she doesn't sound Russian Lagged to me. And I don't think that Dr. Z would pull a bonehead joke like this. Have her punch into the Security Patch." The Hall quiets down. A Security Patch is produced. The young lady presses her right thumb against a plate, stares into a Retinal Scanner and recites a code phrase.

            Extremely attractive young Asian ethnic woman in her early twenties: "I am Doctor Zheng Kuan Tan, MD, Ship's Doctor; My security clearance is C-12; <'Heaven and Earth are not truthful; to them, the Thousand Things are as straw dogs'>. Lao Tse."

            Security Computer: "Thumbprint has 122 out of 124 matches; Retinal Scan is within 91% of acceptable parameters; voiceprint is within 83% of acceptable parameters. ID verified: Doctor Zheng Kuan Tan, MD, Ship's Doctor; security clearance C-12."

            Dr. Z. "Okay, I hope that that's enough of that - also, I don't want to hear any more 'Doctor Bob' s**t, capice?"

            Capt. M. "D****t, Zheng, what kind of bulls**t stunt is this? Is this what you've been doing for the last four days, instead of helping us get that hulk out there up and running? Nano-slicing yourself into Flopsy, Mopsy and Cotton's sorority sister?"

            Dr. Z. "Amazing, Captain. You actually figured out in a split second what it took me several days to figure out. That nanites are at the root of this entire situation."

            Capt. M. "What? Oh, give me a break! Of all the cheap 'Made for Syndication' scenarios that you coulda pulled out of your hat-"

            Dr. Z. "What? You think I pulled this out of a hat? You think that I did this for laughs? People, no matter what you may see on TV, nanotechnology is very difficult! And nano-tech that gene-splices is even harder! The general rule for technology is 'KISS' [Subscript: 'KISS' is an acronym for 'Keep It Simple, Stupid']; the general rule for nano-technology is 'KISS Squared', and the rule for gene splicing is 'KISS Cubed'. It takes years and millions of dollars in R&D to produce a nanite that splices even the most minor genetic change. That's because DNA isn't like an electronic circuit - when you change even one part of the helix, you change the entire organism. MacMurray, even IF I had the equipment to genesplice myself - which I _don't_ - even IF I had the training to - which I _don't_ - even IF I had the _time_ - which I didn't - do you honestly think that I have the Genius that it would take to design, construct and test a suite of nanites that could achieve this much of a change - IN FOUR DAYS? And, IF I _DID_ have that kind of Genius, don't you think that I would know what I'm talking about?"

            1^st Mate H. "She's gotcha there, Skipper."

            Capt. M. "Okay, Doc - you got the floor. Just make is simple for a poor, stupid fish-eye like me to understand."

            Comm Off Fagall and ABS Daityas wheel the 3D display to where all can see, and hook up a small datacard player.

            Dr. Z. "Okay, people-"

            Navigator/Pilot Officer Hainey. "Where'd you catch the 'nite, Doc? What was the vector?"

            Dr. Z. "I didn't catch it. There was no vector."

            2^nd Mate K. "WHAT?"

            Dr. Z. "A vector is a way that a disease is transmitted. The nanite complex that does this-" she sweeps a hand down her body "-isn't transmitted; it's assembled." She reaches down and pulls six large bags from a box on the tray that the 3D display is carried on. "The components are in here - Flour, Coffee, Tea, Sugar, Salt, Powdered Dairy Product, Soya Meat filler, Powdered Rice Product, Oleo Spread and a couple of other foodstuffs. And we've ALL been eating them at every meal for the last week. Cookie 'liberated' these bags from the stores aboard the Prosperity Queen."

            General uproar, as the officers and NCOs of the Yankee Eagle yell at the Cook. Dr. Zheng overrules the din with a police whistle.

            Dr. Z. "Enough! Cookie didn't do anything wrong! The Tamper-proof seals on ALL these bags were intact with vaccuum seals and showed full seal integrity before I opened them. And I found nanites in all of these bags. The nanites were introduced into the bags before the seals were applied."

            Cookie: "Hold On, Doc! It couldn't have been in the makin's! I run everything through the Mess Hall Food Purity Monitors! It's SOP! [Subscript: Standard Operating Procedure]"

            Dr. Z. "Yeah, well so would the cooking staff aboard the Prosperity Queen. That's the really sneaky part." Dr. Zheng activates the 3D display and keys in a sequence on the display control. Twenty-one long chain chemical models appear on the display. "Okay, people, these are comparatively simple food molecules as they appear in these bags - proteins, carbohydrates, fats, amino acids, and like all that." She keys another sequence. Most of the molecule models are colored bright blue, but there are portions at the ends that are bright red. "The blue portions of the molecules are normal everyday nutrients. The blue bits at the ends are the components of the nanites. When they are like this, they're inert and harmless. Food Purity Monitors won't pick up on a thing, because they just look like chemical filler, which most processed foods have. _But_, when they are exposed to hydrochloric acids at tempatures of 98 degrees or above-"

            Crewman: "Hold it! Where are they gonna be exposed to Hydrochloric Acid at that heat?"

            Another Crewman: "Try in your Stomach, Idiot!"

            Dr. Z. "Exactly! We eat the food, and the acids in our stomach break the long chains apart, leaving the nanite components alone." The blue segments of the long chain molecules disappear, leaving the red segments. The segments change color into purple, orange and green. "Once they break off from their 'host' molecules, the components are free to join with each other. Think of the 'Orange' segments as being like the slides on a zipper; their jobs are to link up with the 'Purple' and 'Green' segments and bring them together in the proper way. Now we have our working nanites. But they don't really do anything to you. They just take proteins, fats and carbohydrates in your body and turn them into the components for these nanites." Four models replace the ones on the display. Like their predecessors, they vaguely resemble zippers. The display enlarges one of the nanites.

            Doctor Zheng diminishes the nanite model and enlarges another.

            Dr. Z. "This is the other half. I think that it's based on a Terraforming nanite used to keep soil-altering plants from deforming. It takes it's cues from RNA messengers in the bloodstream, and picks up on changes in the DNA structure. In keeping with the changes, it uses a kind of 'chemical kinetic sense' that's present in many plants to create bioagents that are kind of like steroids to cause physical changes in the skeletal and muscular structures. This sucker is the reason why the Prosperity Queen's crew went 'Mister Hyde' so quickly. The guy who designed all of this probably didn't count on the 'steroids' picking up on the

miscues and physically manifesting them so drastically. Or maybe he just didn't care."

            Crew-person Amy Komora. "Doc, you keep saying that the designer's a guy. Why a guy?"

            Dr. Z: "Well, Amy, a woman could have done the conceptual and design work, and may have even had a reason for changing men into women. _But_ why would a woman design the nanites so that the Converts had childlike faces, big boobs, wasp waists, bubble butts, slender overall figures and long slinky legs?" As she speaks, Doctor Zheng points to herself, moving her finger downward to illustrate each point.

            Crew-person Amy Komora. "Y'got me there, Doc. That's pretty much a guy trip."

            1^st Mate H. "Hold on - just 'cause that's how you turned out, how do you know that's how everyone will turn out?"

            Dr. Z. "Hey, Don't believe me! Ask-" she changes the 3D display to a live feed of the Rec Hall, where a group of crewmen are clustered around 'Flopsy', 'Mopsy', and 'Cottontail', "-Prosperity Queen Second Mate and Pilot's Assistant Harvey Guilliame-" The view focuses on 'Flopsy'; a personnel picture of a bald heavyset African ethnic man in his early fifties appears next to her face, "-Engineer's 1^st Assistant Aabbaran Chitheth-" The view moves over to 'Mopsy'; a personnel picture of a Hindi ethnic man in his late thities appears next to her face, "-Or my esteemed colleague, Doctor Shinji Kesiruji MD, the Prosperity Queen's Chief Medical Officer." The view moves over to 'Cotton'; a personnel picture of a white haired, lined-faced Asian ethnic man in his late sixties appears next to her face.

            Capt. M. "Now, just HOLD ON a minute! You're asking us to believe that the surviving Command Staff of the Prosperity Queen turned into that bunch of giggling airheaded bimbos?"

            Dr. Z. "Yep! Sparks checked their fingerprints against their personnel jackets. I suspected that it might be them, because they would be the last to go into Stasis. Also, Guillame, Chitheth and Kesiruji all had Neural Interfaces." Doctor Zheng changes the 3D display again, replacing the Rec Hall feed with the images of the nanites. An image of a third nanite is enhanced. "Unlike the first two, which affect the entire body, this little sucker migrates directly to the brain, where it sets up shop. It latches onto spent neuro-transmitters and 'lathes' them into a single very long chain chemical, which then breaks into four distinct neurotransmitters. The first appears to be based on a neuro-hormone that is created by Alzheimer's Disease. It causes a lack of ability to focus or think linearly, and lapses of memory. Speaking of which, Kaustmeier, did 'Mopsy' ever have that discussion with you about her 'playtime'? I didn't think so. She probably forgot. In general, the result is sort of a return to a child-like mindset. The second is what I call a 'Hedonotropic'-"

            Crewman. "A Hedon-what-ic?"

            Dr. Z. "A Hedonotropic. It amplifies those sensations that we generally think of as pleasant. Food tastes better, music is sweeter, smells are nicer, and so on. The third is what is called an Orgasmagenic. It makes getting an orgasm both easier, deeper, and more satisfying. The last neurotransmitter is keyed to the sense of smell - particularly the part of the olfactory sense that deals with pheromones. You become more sensitive to the pheromones of the opposite sex and more suggestible to them. So, take Russian Lag, throw in a case of faux Alzheimer's, add in the distractions of continual pleasurable input, a perpetual case of pheromone lust, and easily achieved sexual bliss, and you have-"

            Capt. M. <sourly> "Three giggling airheaded bimbos."

            Dr. Z. "Don't be too hard on them. Before the nanites were introduced, they were probably at least as smart as you or I are. Right now, they have no memories of who they were, and they're groping around for something that feels right. Or being groped, as the case may be." She diminishes the neurotransmitter nanite and enlarges the last of the four. "Now, This I admit is downright artistic. It kicks in once the DNA has been altered, and stabilizes it. Of course, if the matrix has been screwed up, it just stabilizes all the foul-ups. But it keeps the new patterns stable while the rest of the organism adapts, and it speeds up the rate at which the cells are replaced. During the adaptation phase, the cells replace themselves at a rate that's almost as fast a five-year-old's, and you know how much a five-year-old can grow in six months! When the adaptation phase is finished, is slows down to a more modest rate of replacing every soft cell in the body once every five years instead of once every seven years, which is the normal rate. Given the way that the prophylactic prevents helix unraveling, and the cellular replacement rate, this could be the seed of a very effective Ageriatric treatment!"

            3^rd Mate Byner. "Doc, are you sayin' that when we...finish...adapting, we'll either be dead, or _Immortal_?"

            Dr. Z. "Hai-Yah! No! There is no such thing as immortality! There's a point of diminishing returns, even for nano-tech! What with wear and tear on organs, sclerosis and other accretions, the effects of disease and trauma, we will all eventually age. We're just gonna be very long-lived, and age very well.. Between the rejuvenation factor and the slowed aging process, I'd say that I just about doubled my projected lifespan."

            3^rd Mate B. "Okay, so far so disgusting - but what about all those other nanites? You've covered twelve by my counting - what are the other nine?"

            Dr. Z. "The first three are the components that create nano-factories that create more of the first twelve components. The last six are the components that create nano-factories that re-create themselves and the ones that create the first three. The whole set-up is self-replicating; once it's in place in your lower digestive tract, it just keeps grabbing proteins, fats and carbs to keep making more. These bugs are in for the long haul."

            Carpenter's Mate Elton Carpenter. "Hey, Doc, how long before, y'know, the ah, Change hits?"

            Dr. Z. "Don't worry Carpy. The effect takes months to run its course. The Command Staff of the Prosperity Queen spent most of that time in Stasis, which greatly increased their chances of a smooth transition. Hopefully, if we can get out of here quickly enough, you won't have to deal with most of that."

            CM EC. "Months? Then howcum you did it in four days?"

            Dr. Z. "Because I didn't do it just standing around. Sparks and Pedersen helped me convert part of the krill processing subsystem into a version of the 'Forced Maturation' Vats that they use to bring clones to term and early adulthood. It took three days, most of which I spent jacked into the Computer to keep from going nuts. If not for the rejuvenation aspect, it probably would have aged me Six years."

            1^st Mate H. "Ah, Doc? Weren't you taking a big chance? Wouldn't the forced growth have really upped your chances of your cells going haywire?"

            Dr. Z. "Yes. Pedersen was watching my vitals every minute. MacMurray, if we get out of this alive, you ARE sending Pedersen's Masters' Papers in to the Guild. _PERIOD_."

            Capt. M. "Pedersen? Where is Pedersen, anyway? I've been looking for him all over!"

            Dr. Z. "Captain, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, especially what with what we're going to have to go through, but I had to put Pedersen in Frozen Suspension. [Subscript: Frozen Suspension is a more long-term, but more involved and dangerous form of Suspended Animation. The 'sleeper' is really frozen, and their body processes are brought to a complete halt. Putting a 'sleeper' into Frozen Suspension is a long, care intensive process, and bringing them out is worse.] That's what Sparks and I were doing that was taking so long, just now."

            Capt. M. "Frozen Suspension? Why?"

            Dr. Z. "I don't think that Pedersen would like it if I told-"

            Capt. M. "Tell me NOW! That's an order, Mister! Ah, I mean..."

            Dr. Z. "Nnnggg... Okay, while I was checking records and medical files of the crew, I found data that suggests that Pedersen's maternal Grandmother was a clone."

            Crewman. *guffaw!* "Y'mean Pedersen's grand-daddy was a Clone-boner?" The boorish Crewman is shushed mercilessly.

            Capt. M. "Okay, Embarrassing, but why would he have to go on Ice because his Grammaw was conceived in a test-tube?"

            Dr. Z. "Well, as most of you know, the Corporations that use Clones don't want the expense of raising and educating a kid. So those Clones are 'designed' without a lot of the 'junk' DNA that most baseline humans have. This makes forced maturation and m-RNA education more effective. But it leaves big gaping holes in the DNA chain that makes several parts chemically weak-"

            Crewman. "Oh, Doc, you're not gonna trot out the old 'Clone dissolves into green goo' cliche, are you? That's strictly KiddieVision stuff!"

            Dr. Z. "OH? Then watch this!" Doctor Zheng keys in a sequence. The nanite models fade out, and are replaced by footage of a white rat suspended in a thick, near clear, pale yellow liquid, with a breathing device attached to its snout. "This is one of the forced maturation lab rats that I've been using. I just cloned it up from scratch." A needle decends and pierces the rat. "I just injected it with concentrated transformation nanites. I'm going to keep it going through forced maturation." A small 'clock' and a time read-out appears by the rat. "From here, it goes into Time-lapse." The clocks spins a couple of times, and the readout progress two hours. Then the rat begins to twitch and spasm. Tufts of hair shed in clumps and nails fall out. The rat's flesh begins to shough off and mixes with the suspension fluid. By the end of the third 'hour', the rat is nothing but a floating skeleton. "You see, these nanites aren't that smart - if the DNA strand isn't exactly what the nanite's expecting, it just chews through the helix like a saw. The missing chunks of 'junk DNA' threw the nanites off, and they literally tore the soft tissue apart. Only the bones and teeth, which are hard tissue and much harder for the nanites to effect, are left. Where the KiddieVision image fails is that ordinary clones aren't equipped with nanites to render them into goo. AND, it should leave the skeleton behind."

            3^rd Mate B. "That's what happened to those skeleton guys on the Queen! They musta been clones!"

            2^nd Mate K. "Yeah, their jumpsuits were stiff with a salty residue. And, come to think of it, they were mostly mopjockeys and palletriders. Havilland must have been cutting its costs and undermining the Union by sneaking in Clone labor."

            Com Off Fagall. "Right. And all the skeletons were either found in their bunks or at their work stations. When they started to fall apart, they instinctively crawled to the places where they felt the safest, like the cats, rats and dog did. Since they were m-RNA educated, the place where the younger ones felt safest was at their work post, while the older ones took to their bunks." Fagall looks around. "Hey, Doc didn't do all of this alone, y'know! I helped!"

            Dr. Z. "Anyway, Pedersen won't fall apart. Since it was only his grandmother, he has a lot of 'junk DNA' in him; I could only spot it because it was his maternal grandmother, who provided the ova pattern, which is why he was missing so much. _But_ he has a quantum shift greater chance of Catastrophic Genetic Missequencing than anyone else. So, I Cubed him [Subscript: 'Cubed'- to be placed in Frozen Suspension]. When they thaw him out, they can make sure that the nanites are stopped before they can re-activate. There are three NCOs that also have a clone or two in the family woodpile; we'll Cube them with most of the ratings."

            Navigator/Pilot Officer Hainey. "Cube 'em? Why not just put as many people as we can in Stasis and haul mass straightaway for Lavoisier? If we stop f***ing around and head straight in, we can make it in twelve days, no problem!"

            Dr. Z. "Oh, there's a BIG problem, Hainey - if we went into Lavoisier and gave them enough warning as to have the proper response waiting for us, we'd be signing our own death warrants."

            General Confusioni.

            Com Off Fagall. "See this?" He points at the bag of contaminated foodstuff. The bag is clearly marked 'Inter-Planteary Cornicopea - Foods Division'. "These bags were specially made up and purposely filled with the transformation nanites. Instead of a twenty-four-bar UPC 'zebra', it has a special thirty-bar code. That can only be so that it can be easily tracked by computer. And they're tracked by computer so that they can be delivered to exactly the right ship."

            General non-comprehension.

            Com Off Fagall. "I checked the Queen's database, and found that this shipment of bags of makings was picked up at Becquerel Station seventeen months ago. These bags were printed and filled by ICP at Maxwell Colony."

            1^st Mate H. "How can you tell?"

            Com Off F. "It's printed on the f******g _bag_!"

            1^st Mate H. "Oh."

            Com Off F. "Anyway, ICP has major corporate presences at Lavoisier and Becquerel and practically every stop within twelve lights of here. Through Maxwell Colony, they provide most of this sector with food. Do you honestly think that they wouldn't wipe us off the map to keep this from getting out? Do you think that they couldn't cover it up?"

            1^st Mate H. "Oh, come ON! This is too 'Straight to Video' to be real! Why would a hundred Trillion dollar a year outfit like ICP spend millions on R&D to come up with nanites just to turn Spacers into women? I mean, broads - beggin' yer pardon, ladies - women are scarce enough out here in the Back of Beyond, but they're not that valuable!"

            Dr. Z. 'That's because turning Spacers into beautiful women - or hideous corpses - is only serendipity. The real profit is the empty Starships they leave behind, and the cargoes inside them. Take the Yankee Eagle - this tub barely meets Navigation Board specs, and it's worth what on the open market, MacMurray?"

            Capt. M. "Well, if I didn't have three banks holding paper on her, I could get maybe, oh, fifteen Million for her. IF I could find anyone who wanted to buy her."

            Dr. Z. "FIFTEEN MILLION. Even these days, that's a lot of moolah. Let's face it - there is no such critter as a 'cheap starship'. Fifteen Million for the Eagle. And how much for the Prosperity Queen out there? She's at least five times our mass, she carries at least three times as much cargo, she's faster than we are, her power plant is six times larger, and her living quarters are head and shoulders better'n ours. If she's worth less than a Hundred Million on the hoof, then I'll eat my own t**s. And that's not counting the cargo. A Hundred Million, just for slipping some kinked food into the ship's stores and coming along and finding it. AND - let's have a show of hands - who thinks that this is the first time that they've pulled this stunt?"

            1^st Mate H. "I still think that it's ridiculuous to think that IPC spent billions developing these nanites just so that they can hijack some starships!"

            Capt. M. "You have the wrong end of the right stick, Wayne. They didn't spend billions developing it - it probably just fell into their laps. I've been to Maxwell Colony. It's the armpit of the Back of Beyond. The male to female ration is roughly eight to three. It's also a place where they're terraforming like crazy, in order to improve their food production. They have over a thousand nano-technicians trying to tweak their bugs into being more productive. Hey, every nano-geek that I've ever heard of has dreamed at some time of playing Frankenstein - or Pygmalion. So, one of these nano-geeks assembles the DNA altering nanite. Maybe he uses it on somebody, trying to create his dream-girl. Maybe he just builds it for s***s and giggles. Either way, somehow it falls into the hands of IPC's local General Manager."

            Crew-Person Marlene Prisker. "What makes you think it was the General Manager?"

            Capt. M. "He'd be the only one with the right combination of connections, power, access, information and immunity. My take is that, whoever he is, he's probably some has-been Mover & Shaker who got Siberia'ed out to Maxwell Colony. He's pissed at the Company, and wants out. But he can't quit without stranding himself on Maxwell. So, he's using this scam as a way to buy is way back to Alpha, Midori, or Bernard Colonies, or even back to Ma Earth. Or maybe he just wants to be really rich, wherever he is.

            Dr. Z. "Yeah! The primary nanite is very sophisticated and elegant, but the one that controls body shape looks pretty kludged together. And the one that produces the mind-altering neurotransmitters could be back-engineered from some pretty standard Senility treatments. And the Stabilizer? Don't ask me where that came from. But the body-shape controller, the mind-alterers, and the nano-factories could all probably be adapted from existing nanite forms. Keep in mind that I'm not an expert in nano-technology."

            Capt. M. "So, you're this big Corporate Shark who's penned up in this rinky-dink little backwater colony. You have a weapon that leaves one out of five that it's used on alive but female-"

            CP Prisker. "You make that sound like an injury!"

            Capt. M. "Zip it, Prisker! I'm trying to think here! So, you got one out of five survivors, but they're now a marketable commodity. But you can't just start processing workers, or even penal colony convicts - people would talk, since four out of five of them would die. So, you need small, isolated groups of people who are regularly out of communications for long periods of time. Starship crews, of course! AND when you go to pick them up, you have credible salvage rights to both a multi-MILLION dollar asset like a starship, _and_ the cargoes, which are each worth more millions! What a scam! BUT, you can't just go around doing this time after time - insurance companies will start to ask embarrassing questions. And the only Big Noises around that throw around more weight than IPC are the insurance companies, Ten Thousand Blessings on their Corporate Pin Heads.

            Com Off Fagall. "Yes, Cap'n?"

            Capt. M. "How many different Primary Shipping routes use Becquerel Station as a fueling and restocking point?"

            Com Off F. "At least fourteen, Skipper. And there are at least twenty more Secondary routes passing through Becquerel, and God Alone knows how many marginal routes."

            Capt. M. "And they all have to report their flight plans and itineraries with the Navigation Authority. So, Mister Big will know exactly where they're headed. With a little careful arrangement of, oh say, one nanite treated bag of foodstuff out of every five, you can probably arrange for the s**t to hit the fan at the point where the ship can easily be lost - oh, say an Asteroid belt or something. Then you have some nice discrete bunch of Rock Rats come along and just walk in the door and take over the ship. They know they can't just hock an entire starship, so they'll be happy with a cut of the take of the Cargo, and a steady supply of Bimbos. Just as long as there's gonna be another nice, fat, juicy starship waiting for them to do it all again in, oh say, four or five months. If you spread it around thirty-plus routes to keep it from getting obvious, you can pick and choose big, hundred million dollar price-tag ships with 200- or 300-man crews, and nice, high price-tag cargoes. The 'bimbos' that you don't keep for yourself or give to your associates to ensure loyalty, you put to work in brothels, generating more revenues. It works. All y'gotta do is be willing to kill at least 150 men at a clip and sell the survivors into virutal slavery."

            1^st Mate H. "Oh, Come ON, Ev! Yer creepin' me out, here! You can't pull that kind of operation off and not have somebody pick up on something!"

            Capt. M. "So? With a set-up like that, you got the four ultimate tools of secrecy - isolation, coercion, money and sex. If someone in authority starts asking the wrong questions, you just introduce them to 'Candy'. 'Candy' appears to be young, cute, stacked, simple minded, libidinous and friendly. When they start shacking up with 'Candy' on a regular basis, you let the other shoe drop: that 'Candy' used to be a Starship Officer, and that they are implicated after the fact in the deaths of hundreds of 'Candy's' former shipmates. Then you tell them that they can either do the right thing and run the risk of going up against IPC, one of the biggest Corporate entities in the Sector while facing charges of their own IF they prove anthing, _or_ they can keep seeing 'Candy', take home a couple of extra Grand a month, and be part of a growing power bloc in the Sector. All they gotta do is fudge a couple of reports and look the other way. It wouldn't take that many people, maybe one in a hundred would actually have to know anything. Even most of them wouldn't really know any names or other particulars. They'd just have to know that certain reports don't have to get filed. Boys, we are f****d."

            Nav/Pilot Off Hainey. "Skipper? So, where do we go?"

            Capt. M. "Hainey, where's the nearest ETSA [Subscript; ETSA - the Extra Terrestrial Settlement Authority, the people who run extra-Solar System Services like the Rangers and the Tribunal] Ranger Outpost that's completely off the Becquerel routes?"

            Hainey checks his PDA. Nav/Pilot H. "Herschel Station, out of Gamma Upsilon. But, Cap'n, that's at the extreme range of this ship. We can make it - theoretically. But really? This tub? We'd have better odds putting our collective paytabs on the local Lotto."

            Cookie. "Hold ON! That's not all, Skipper! Skip, we were running five days behind schedule when we found the Queen, remember? We were running low on stores! That's why I raided the Queen's stores in the first place!"

            Dr. Z. "Oh? I thought it was because you were tired of people complaining about your coffee."

            Cookie. "Very funny. My point is, that we don't have enough food to make it to Herschel Station! Between our stores and the Queen's, we barely have enough to make it to Lavoisier, if we dump the contaminated stuff. We'd be living on Lobster and Krill, and even then, we'd be scraping the traps for scraps!"

            Dr. Z. "Cookie's right. Mind you, we can use the contaminated foodstuff - the damage is already done, adding more won't hurt anything. But it still won't get all of us to Herschel Station. Even if it did, the trip would take FIVE MONTHS. By the time we pulled in, the nanites would have made four-fifths of you either insane, crippled or dead. What we gotta do, is put as many of the High-Risk cases in Frozen Suspension and Low-Risk Cases in Stasis. Being in Stasis seems to ease the transition. We're gonna hafta form a skeleton crew to run the ship: three shifts of four people, culled from the lowest risk Officers and NCOs on board."

            1^st Mate H. "Twelve people? For a ship this size? Even if we pull ALL of the maintainence and repair drones offa the Queen to help out, that's gonna be a pretty d**n thin skeleton, Doc!"

            Doctor Zheng pulls three bottles out of a pocket. Dr. Z. "This is what I'm basing my manpower projections on - this is the anti-senility drug and the dietary suppliments that I used to keep my intellect and improve my odds while I went through accelerated maturation of the nanite transformation. My 'pharmacy' can only has enough base chemicals to fabricate daily doses of this stuff for twelve people. Without regular doses of this, half-way through the trip, we'd be turning into mental six-year-olds - or worse. Everything else, we can get around, but not that."

            Capt. M. "Can't you cannibalize the 'pharmacy' from the Queen? Use their stores of base chemicals?"

            Dr. Z. "I already did. That's what I'm basing my projections on."

            Capt. M.  "Man, you've been busy!"

            Dr. Z. "What did you think I was doing while I was interfacing with the computer for three days? Playing PONG?"

            Crew-Person Amy Komora. "Hey, Doc - what about Prisker, Kushyapa, Sung, Cooley and me? We're already women! What can these nano-bugs thingies do to us? We can add to your skeleton crew and not be a drain on your drug supply."

            Dr. Z. "Nice thought, Amy, but they can do plenty. Amy, ALL that they won't do to you that they will do to the men is change your sex. Yer gonna get the full Dolly treatment and brainwash that the rest of us get."

            C-P Komora. "S**t! We can't catch a break, no-how!"

            Capt. M. "What about using those anti-Senility drugs on Flopsy, Mops- I mean, on Guillame, Chitheth and Kesiruji? They've already been through the change, they're very competent according to their personnel jacket, and they won't be as big a drain on the drug supply."

            Dr. Z. "Can't. It isn't just the nanite - it's the nanite, along with the Russian Lag, the psychological stress of repressing their memories and the new 'Bimbo' personalities that they've been building around themselves. It would take a trained Psych tech months to get them back to normal. And I don't have either the time, the training or the disposition to do that. All right. If we start moving NOW, we can get the cargo module with the Stasis Pods from the Queen over to the Eagle, and start to rubber-stamp Euthanasia proceedings for the invalid occupants, so we can use them for our own crew-"

            Capt. M. "Doc, we don't have time for that!"

            Dr. Z. "What do you mean? It will only take a few hours-"

            Capt. M. "Hours we probably don't have. Doc, that ship over there has been lost for fifteen months. That means that 'Mister Big's' people lost track of it, and have been looking for it for months. The crew probably screwed up the Navigation program during a fit of delirium, which is why it wound up here. Given the way that the Queen is lodged against that asteroid, it isn't hard to see why 'Mister Big's' people haven't found it yet, but it still has been broadcasting that SOS for months. And we've been f*****g around here for seven days... Given the way that we keep running smack into Murphy's Law around every corner on this run, anyone wanna bet on the odds that 'Mister Big's' people manage to show up in the next five minutes?"

            Comm Officer Fagall pulls out a Pocket Computer and begins furiously working. Comm Off Fagall. "Skipper, I've been reading some weird traffic dopplering through this area for the past few days, but I didn't think anything was seriously wrong. But if you're right, it could be a 'textless' cue for the Queen's SOS beacon to transponder off of."

            Capt. M. "Which is exactly how 'Mister Big's' people would be looking for the Queen. What's she Hallooing?" [Subscript: "Hallooing'- a projecting identification broadcast that announces the passage of a vessel through a crowded and poor visibility area such as an asteroid belt or wreckage zone. Passing through such an area without 'Hallooing' is a serious breach of Navigation regulations.]

            Comm Off Fagall: "Nothing."

            1^st Mate H. "How much y'wanna bet that they're carrying Boarding Armor and Heavy Squad Weapons? What kind of weapons we got?"

            2^nd Mate K. "The two shotguns that we gave the Canaries, which are still over on the Queen, and the Combat Laser that we used to 'convince' the Canaries to get into the shuttle."

            Capt. M. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do..." // End of Video Insert//

//ETSA Ranger Evidence File: 553C802M112M- V: 23// Overhead shot of cramped five-man bridge. Three of the seats are taken. If the bridge of the Yankee Eagle was messy, then this bridge is a complete pigsty. The man in the 'Captain's Chair' is listlessly watching a video, as the two men at the Navigator's and Pilot's seats watch their screens in undisguised boredom.

            Navigator. "Skipper! I got a direct Ping!"

            'Skipper'.  "Again?"

            Navigator. "Honest, it ain't bouncing offa anything this time!"

            'Skipper'. "Let me know when and IF you get a full bleat."

            The time readout indicates five hours have passed. The 'Skipper' is just coming back onto the bridge.

            Navigator. "Skipper! We got a full bleat, and the Doppler whine is rising. I think we finally found her."

            'Skipper'. "ALL Right! It's about G*****n time! We been looking for this b***h for months! I knew outlasting that b*****d Mandranan would pay off eventually!"

            The time readout indicates that seventeen hours have passed. The 'Skipper' has shaved, showered, shampooed and changed into clean clothing. All five seats are occupied.

            Navigator. "Bad News, Skipper! It looks like somebody beat us to the punch."

            'Skipper'. "S**t! It isn't Veschardjian or Marszcheck, is it?"

            Navigator. "Not to worry, Skip. It ain't nunna the usual suspects - it just looks like some dumbass tramp hauler, who thunk that they hit the jackpot."

            'Skipper'. "Then why did you bother me? Mojo, shut off all the forward guides - Dannyboy, kill the main drives, and retro us into a thirty-four-degree incoming arc along vector 83X/53Y/22Z. Danny, I want us to come at them straight at their side."

            'Mojo'. "Skip, it's a bit too late for that. I just got a squeal from the hauler. I'm switching it over to you-"

            Capt. M. "This is Captain Evan James MacMurray of the Independent Freighter Yankee Eagle, Registry #81T882F424H51, registered out of Singapore, calling the captain and/or pilot of the unidentified incoming vessel. Please identify yourself and your intentions. Please be aware that we have already recorded our intentions of claiming Salvage Rights to the Prosperity Queen and its cargo, as per Standard Spacefarer's Procedure Code, Chapter 8, Section CE, subsection 7. Unless you have legal and pressing business aboard this vessel, please change your speed and vector, unless you want criminal and civil charges brought against you."

            'Skipper'. "Oohh... I'm all ascared... *link* "Ah, Captain MacMurray, this is Lieutenant Robert Davies of the Lavoisier System Search & Rescue Vessel #A66M21. We are responding to a direct request by the Captain of the Prosperity Queen for rescue. Please disengage and allow us - Danny! Fire all thrusters NOW!"

            Exterior camera shot of the side of the Yankee Eagle at dock with the Prosperity Queen. The image grows quickly and fills the screen, which then goes blank.

            'Mojo'. "Okay, Cap'n, it looks like we cut 'em in three. The forward section is heading off on Vector 82X/54Y/73Z, the aft section is heading Vector 60X/11Y/30Z, and the midsection is a cloud of scrap headin' straight ahead. All that's left of 'em is their docking hatch. It's still stuck to the bay."

            'Skipper'. "Man, you'd think that people would be more considerate than to just leave bits of their ships stuck to other people's property. Send Siraj and Avram out there to get that thing unstuck. Call me when they're done."

            The time readout indicates that an hour and a half have passed.

            'Mojo'. "Nice to see you back, Skip. Siraj got the hookup and their mainframe sez that there's a hundred and fifty in Stasis. It also says that Life Support is up an' runnin' and that we got at least twenty 'stowaways' to worry about. But they can't use the ship's systems against us, 'cause according to Siraj, the original crew's captain musta got paranoid and locked the main operating system down with a triple encoded password."

            'Skipper'. "Ah, Maaannnn... and after we scratched up the paint job and everything! Oh well, it's always something. Danny, bring us in - Mojo, tell the boys to suit up and load for bear. In the meantime, Mojo, see if you can crack it. It's always a hassle getting those b******s to say the right thing." //End of Video Insert//

//ETSA Ranger Evidence File: 553C802M112M- V: 24// Interior shot of Prosperity Queen's Docking Bay. A five-man team in Boarding Armor carrying Combat Shotguns enters in proper interlacing stages. Then the 'Skipper' boards, wearing level three body armor and a machine pistol, followed by three more, similarly armed and armored, and then another five-man team in Boarding Armor.

            'Skipper'. "Okay, Moj, we're in. Where are the Stasis Pods?" 'Mojo' gives directions. "And where are our vermin?"

            'Mojo'. "Well, I got one grouping of heat signatures in Cargo Module 'D', and another grouping in Propulsion Module '4'."

            'Skipper'. "Okay, Arnie, you and your bad boys clean out Cargo Module 'D'. Siraj, go down to Propulsion Module '4', and offer to take them prisoner. When you get all of them out of the Propulsion Module, _then_ you shoot them. NOT while they are IN the Module, _after_, Savvy? Getting those turkeys back online is gonna be a big enough b***h without big f*****g holes in them." The Boarding Armor squads split off and leave. "Okay, guys, it's 'Prince Charming' time - we gotta wake up our 'sleeping beauties'."

            'Mojo'. "Yeah, Skip - just try not to traumatize 'em, like you did the last bunch."

            'Skipper'. "You're just pissed off, 'cause you don't get first choice, like I do."

            Camera angle shifts as it follows the 'Skipper' and his two men as they make their way to the Stasis Pods. The Stasis Pods are pretty much as the Yankee Eagle's men left them.

            'Skipper'. "So, Chuck, who's in the sweet spot?"

            'Chuck'. "Nobody, Skip. The last three Pods are empty. Those a******s musta had time to get those three out and ask 'em questions."

            'Skipper'. "S**t! So, who's in number four?"

            'Chuck'. "Her uniform says 'Chatsworth' - according to the Pertinents we got, Chatsworth was the X.O." [Subscript: X.O.= 'Executive Officer', the Captain's main assistant.]

            'Skipper'. "SWEET! Open 'er up, Chuck! It's time to see how she turned out!"

            'Chuck' runs through an abbreviated version of the 'wake-up' process. After about a half-hour, he extracts an extremely attractive young European ethnic woman in her early twenties with short russet hair. He doesn't bother disconnecting her IV link or breathing cannula.

            'Skipper'. "Ooohhh... She turned out nice..."

            'Chuck'. "Yeah, but not as primo as that Swede we got offa the Spirit of Sheboygan. What did we wind up calling her?"

            'Skipper'. "Clarice. Damn, she was choice. Hated to hand her over, but what was I supposed to do?"

            'Chuck'. "Hey, you coulda at least found out which cathouse they sent her to."

            'Skipper'. "Chuckeroo, the first thing you learn in this racket, is not to ask too many questions. There are people who get real nervous if you do that." He pulls a small aerosol can from his pocket and fits it into the breathing cannula. Then he fits a headset over the redhead's brow. He triggers both of them in concert, causing the redhead to spasm and snap open her eyes. "Chatsworth! Condition RED! The Computer Main Operating System has gone into Security Shutdown! The ship's main hull has been breached and we need all systems up and running to seal the breach! Chatsworth! What is the Shutdown Restart Code? We Don't Have Any Time To Spare!"

            The 'Bulkheads' of the Cargo Module burst open, and six men in Boarding Armor emerge. One of them immediately has his shotgun pointed directly into the 'Skipper's' face, before the pirate can say anything into his headset. Their Boarding Armor bears the identifying marks of ETSA Rangers. The Ranger who is pointing his shotgun directly at the 'Skipper' is wearing the chevrons of a Sergeant.

            Sergeant. In a whisper. "If you say anything, anything at all, I _will_ blow your head clean off. Do you understand?" The 'Skipper' nods. "Hand me the headset." The 'Skipper' takes the headset off and hands it to the Sergeant. "Ah, Mojo, I got something for you - click on over to channel #141." Waits a minute. "Okay, Boas has the lock on. Doc! You can come out now!"

            Several of the Stasis Pods open, and extremely attractive young women in their early twenties come out. Doctor Zheng bustles over to the redhead with a field medical kit in her hand.

            Dr. Z. "Evelyn! Can you hear me?"

            'Evelyn'. "Nnggg! What did he spray me with?"

            Dr. Z. "It must be some kind of temporary Russian Lag 'kick start'." She checks the aerosol can. "It's pretty generic stuff. They must use this stuff when they need a security code or something from one of the crew. Well, that was the plan, wasn't it, Captain?"

            Captain Evelyn MacMurray. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean that I have to like it!  Yech! It feels like a vodka hangover, only without the sawdust aftertaste on my tongue!"

            Dr. Z. "Don't worry, I already have a lead on a counter-agent. Good thing these a******s are so cheap."

            Sergeant. "Are you all right, Captain MacMurray?"

            Capt. M. "Yeah, yeah, m'allrite.. What about the Yankee Eagle? What did they do to the Eagle? What was that great thumping thud?"

            Sergeant. "Good Question. Hello, Melvin Purvis? Purvis, do you copy? What's the status regarding the Yankee Eagle? Oh.  _oh_ Oh. . Ah, Captain MacMurray? I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your ship was almost completely destroyed. They rammed right into it with an Asteroid Shield at about Mach 4 and accelerating. The Aft Propulsion section is sixty-five percent damaged, the forward section is fatally compromised, and the mid-section is scrap. If we hadn't insisted on evacuating it, your entire crew would have been killed."

            Capt. M. "The Eagle... I put that ship together from scrap, Frasier! That ship was my life! My.. my... ship...." Captain MacMurray clings to Sergeant Frasier and cries.

            Sergeant Frasier. Not exactly sure what to do to comfort a woman mourning a starship. "Aahh, well, since you lost your ship materially aiding a Ranger operation, I'm sure that there's some provision in the Regs to provide a suitable replacement. MacMurray keeps bawling.

            Shift to one of the Pirate five-man teams heading toward the Cargo Modules.

            'Arnie'. "Okay, Boys - Mojo sez we got about six of 'em here in this airlock. Be real careful not to shoot the outer door, y'unnerstand? We don't wanna get blown out of the f*****g lock. Let's go!" They enter the airlock in standard staggered formation. Once they are all inside the airlock, the door behind them bolts shut.

            Loudspeaker: "ETSA Rangers! Throw down your arms, or we will open the outer lock and blow you out of the ship! You have to the count of Five to comply! One! Two-" The Pirates all drop their shotguns. "Now, kick your weapons over to the far side of the airlock, and remove your body armor! You have to the count of One Hundred to be in your skivvies, A******s!" //End of Video Insert//

            <Full Shot of Doctor Zheng sitting in a chair. Her hair is shoulder length with bangs in front, she is wearing a modest amount of makeup, and she is wearing a very becoming tight fitting white nylon ship's medic jumpsuit with various ships' insignia. She smiles mischievously> "Okay, okay, Tao, I admit it - I indulged in a little cheap drama there. That last clip was taken almost Nine Months after the clip just before it. But it flows better that way, believe me. Now this is what happened in between-

//Lavoisier News Feed Video Clip: 34T72G44-23// Dateline: April 11^th, 2245. "Hello, I am Illena Reyes IV, and this is the Lavoisier News Update. In our Top Story, today ETSA Tribunal Attorneys announced the arrest of Inter-Planetary Cornucopia Regional Managing Vice President Herbert G. B. Walker-Chaney <Footage of aristocratic looking man of about fifty leaving the ETSA Tribune office, accompanied by lawyers and a statuesque blonde in her twenties>, on charges ranging from Tampering with IPC food products to White Slavery, to Bribery and Influence Peddling, to Piracy and Hijacking, to Mass Murder. Walker-Chaney is alleged to have contaminated select parcels of IPC foodstuffs that were sold to Interstellar Freighters. The agents, the properties of which have not been reported as of this time, are alleged to have been intended to slowly poison the crews and passengers of the freighters, which were then supposed to have been boarded and stolen. ETSA Tribunal Attorney Melina Zelinski claims that they have proof that this was successfully done on more than twenty occasions, with estimated deaths of over three thousand. Attorneys for Mister Walker-Chaney are calling the charges 'Ridiculous and groundless, a political maneuver purely motivated by ETSA plans to wrangle concessions out of IPC. In further developments-" //End of Video Insert//

//Lavoisier News Feed Video Clip: 34T72G44-27// Dateline: April 14^th, 2245. "Hello, I am Illena Reyes IV, and this is the Lavoisier News Update. In our Top Story, there are further developments in the Prosperity Queen Scandal. ETSA Rangers have proven that IPC Regional VP Herbert Walker-Chaney has been running a small, privately owned shipping line. While on paper, this small shipping line has a total of three In-System ships, Mr. Walker-Chaney's Vesco Line actually has over fifteen known Singularity capable vessels, for which Mr. Walker-Chaney has absolutely no explanation as to how he got them. As of this report, there is no way of verifying how many, if any of these ships are indeed the alleged missing interstellar freighters that Walker-Chaney is charged with highjacking." //End of Video Insert//

//Lavoisier News Feed Video Clip: 34T72G44-29// Dateline: April 16^th, 2245. "Hello, I am Illena Reyes IV, and this is the Lavoisier News Update. In our Top Story, Navigation Authority Official William Lloyd Andersen <Head shot of balding official talking to reporters> has decided to turn State's Evidence against Herbert Walker-Chaney and the other owners of the 'Silverhammer Social Club' <Footage of lobby of lavish establishment, well stocked with curvaceous young women, seen chatting avidly with customers>, which is alleged to be a front for a prostitution ring in Roentgen City. There is some wild speculation as to the origins of the young women working at the Silverhammer Clubs, which LNU cannot endorse at this time..." //End of Video Insert//

//Lavoisier News Feed Video Clip: 34T72G44-33// Dateline: April 23^rd, 2245. "Hello, I am Illena Reyes IV, and this is the Lavoisier News Update. In our Top Story, ETSA Health Office official confirmed reports in the Roentgen Record, that the agent used by the 'Silverhammer Seven' to incapacitate the crews of over twenty Star Freighters was indeed a remarkable complex of nano-tech devices..<Footage of nanites, disturbingly similar to the ones used by Dr. Zheng to explain their situation to the crew of the Yankee Eagle.> These nanites did indeed transform almost twenty percent of the ships' passengers and crews into nubile young-appearing women, while hideously twisting and killing the remaining eighty percent..ETSA Tribunal Attorneys also claim that most of the young women working at the Silverhammer Clubs were indeed former passengers and crewmembers of those ill-fated ships. ETSA Health Office officials hasten to reassure the general population that these nanites were directly inserted into foodstuffs bags that were directly planted on the chosen ships, and that there is absolutely _NO_, I repeat NO, chance of the nanites having been inserted into IPC foods sent into either restaurant or retail consumer distribution." //End of Video Insert//

//Lavoisier News Feed Video Clip: 34T72G44-36// Dateline: May 3^rd, 2245. "Hello, I am Illena Reyes IV, and this is the Lavoisier News Update. In our Top Story, Things continue to go badly for Herbert Walker-Chaney, as Mitzi, his wife of six years and the  mother of his two-year old daughter, has filed for divorce. Mitzy Walker-Chaney claims to actually be Gunther Van Haagen, the former 2^nd Mate aboard the Hollander Engel, one of the first ships to 'disappear' in the so-called 'Maxwell Octagon'. <Footage of statuesque blonde punching her 'husband' in the nose on the steps of the local courthouse.> Navigation Authority records confirmed Van Haagen's identity through fingerprints and retinal scans. The custody of Van Haagen and Walker-Chaney's daughter Jessica, is very much undecided as of this report." //End of Video Insert//

//Lavoisier News Feed Video Clip: 34T72G44-39// Dateline: May 10^th, 2245. "Hello, I am Illena Reyes IV, and this is the Lavoisier News Update. In our Top Story, today the now-famous 'Skeleton Crew' continued their testimony in the 'Silverhammer Seven' trial. Defense Attorneys' attempts to discredit Yankee Eagle doctor Zheng Kuan Tam's <shot of Dr. Zheng on the witness stand, looking both absolutely lovely and completely professional> testimony was blocked by several letters of confirmation from ETSA Health Office laboratories and local Universities. Further testimony from other members of the 'Skeleton Crew' and Flight Recorder footage from the Yankee Eagle are being very damaging to Walker-Chaney's defense. Yankee Eagle Captain Evan/Evelyn MacMurray has this to say." <Footage of Captain MacMurray looking fiery and impassioned on the witness stand.> Capt. M. "First, I had to watch my Third Mate, Joe Byner go from a good-looking man in his prime to something that looked like a kindergartener's clay art project. Then I had to watch his goon Bragslin smash my ship into scrap. Then he sends one goon after another to kill me and what remains of my crew. And now he sits over there, claiming that I made it all up. He had better pray that he gets convicted, 'cause if he doesn't, he won't last long on Lavoisier, and there isn't a ship in Human Space that he's safe on." //End of Video Insert//

//Lavoisier News Feed Video Clip: 34T72G44-51// Dateline: September 21^st, 2245. "Hello, I am Illena Reyes IV, and this is the Lavoisier News Update. In our Top Story, The fate of Herbert Walker-Chaney and the rest of the 'Silverhammer Seven' <Head shots of Walker-Chaney and six middle aged looking executive types> has been decided. A jury deliberated for five days and has come back with a finding of Guilty on fifty-six of seventy-three charges, including Piracy and Mass Murder. The Ringleader, Herbert Walker-Chaney <Footage of Walker-Chaney sitting in a courtroom, looking worried> faces the possibilities of Life on a Penal Colony with absolutely no hope of Parole, or of Death by Recovery. [Subscript: In this sense, 'Recovery' consists of being put in Stasis, and having your body fluids and organs removed as they are needed for transplants.] In a related story, the lawyers for Inter-Planetary Cornucopia, Herbert Walker-Chaney's estate, and the estates of the other 'Silverhammer Seven' have announced that they have come to an out-of-court agreement with the lawyers for the Class Action suit brought by the survivors and families of the passengers and crews of the Yankee Eagle, Prosperity Queen, Hollander Engel, Spirit of Sheboygan, <Graphics of the ships' Logos> and the other ships lost to the 'Maxwell Octagon'. The amounts mentioned compare well with the annual operating budget of Delta Colony." //End of Video Insert//

//Lavoisier News Feed Video Clip: 34T72G45-03// Dateline: March 1^st, 2246. "Hello, I am Illena Reyes IV, and this is the Lavoisier News Update. In our Top Story, well, in an interesting addition to last year's 'Silverhammer Scandal', it seems that the Yankee Eagle may fly again! After the better part of a year of filing claims, the ETSA Rangers have honored Captain Evelyn MacMurray's claim for restitution for the destruction of her ship, the famous Yankee Eagle, which was destroyed in the operation that broke open the entire 'Silverhammer' case. The Rangers are signing over complete ownership of a 250 Tetra-ton freighter to Captain MacMurray. The ship was seized from Silverhammer mastermind Herbert Walker-Chaney's 'Vesco Line', and Walker-Chaney had done such a good job of erasing all evidence of its origins that the Navigation Authority still has no idea of where it originally came from. Said Captain MacMurray of her new ship, 'She'll Do.'" //End of Video Insert//

//Lavoisier News Feed Video Clip: 34T72G45-11// Dateline: April 15^th, 2246. "Hello, I am Illena Reyes IV, and this is the Lavoisier News Update. In our Top Story, former Yankee Eagle Captain Evelyn MacMurray has announced that her new ship, the Swan Princess, has been refitted and is ready for passengers and cargo. MacMurray stated in a Press announcement that the Swan Princess will be crewed almost entirely by survivors of the Yankee Eagle, Prosperity Queen, Hollander Engel, Spirit of Sheboygan and other ships lost in the Silverhammer scandal of last summer. <Footage of press conference, with Evelyn MacMurray at a podium, wearing a tight fitting black nylon jumpsuit with an equally tight-fitting royal blue satin Napoleonic cut officer's coat with gold trim, and a white lace jabot over it. Behind her are a lineup of equally lovely young women in similar uniforms, with variations for Command, Service, Engineering and Medical sections. Dr. Zheng in medical whites stands just to the left of Captain MacMurray. Behind them all on the wall is a large ship's logo - a circular device of dark blue, with a stylized silver swan as the main feature, with a small golden crown over the swan's head. Under the swan is the motto: "Beauty forged in Adversity". > "Captain MacMurray says that the Swan Princess will be a luxury passenger carrier, offering Top-of-the-Line service and accommodations to their passengers for destinations between Alpha Colony and Marquette. Booking agents confirm that the Swan Princess's berths are already booked solid for her next three voyages."//End of Video Insert//

            <Sitting shot> "Well, that's pretty much the whole story. MacMurray got together with a bunch of the other Spacers who got Shanghai'd [Subscript: 'Shanghai' - an old seafaring term for being kidnapped into service. Apparently, old time European sailors really didn't like making the China voyages.] and decided to make the new ship a kind of refuge for the guys who got gender changed. Lord Buddha knows that they were having problems fitting in after they recovered their memories. That farcial divorce of 'Mitzi' Van Haagen's from Walker-Chaney was only the tip of the iceberg.

//Encrypted Insert//123Y35S98J37-E//For The Eyes Of Mr. Zheng Kuan Tao Only// "Well, Tao, that's all for Ding and the kids. Remember, I want all of these Encrypted Inserts wiped. And don't show these Inserts to Ding - she'll just show them to Yumei, and the very last thing I need is more grief from my back-stabbing ex-wife!

//Video Insert//123Y35S98J37-V: 11// Overhead shot of the cramped Sickbay aboard the Yankee Eagle. Captain MacMurray and Communications Officer Fagall watch as Doctor Zheng and Engineer's Mate Wayland bring a Frozen Suspension 'cube' out of the Suspension Chamber. All four help load it on a pallet and Wayland and Fagall push it out of the SickBay. Doctor Zheng collapses into her chair.

            Dr. Z. "Well, that's the last of them - _finally!_" <whew!> She buries her head in her hands, shakes it, and then slumps back in the chair. "Y'know what I _really_ hate about Frozen Suspension? It isn't that you have to put them in just right, or you might as well not bother - it's that you have to rely on somebody else to do everything just right to bring them out!" She reaches for her headset. "Byner! How are they going into Stasis?"

            3^rd Mate Byner. "It's coming along slow, Doc, but it's coming. How many more d'you have to Cube?"

            Dr. Z. "All done. When you're done there, Byner, I want you to work up a schedule for having everyone come to me for their daily check-up and dosage, and send the first one over to me."

            Capt. M. "Byner, work up that schedule, but belay sending the first one to SickBay for at least eight hours. Doc, you've been working at putting those guys under for thirty hours straight. Get some sleep."

            Dr. Z. "But I have to-"

            Capt. M. "You have to _Get_ Some _Sleep!_ You're not gonna do anyone any good if you're falling over all yourself - especially when there are so many guys who'd only be too glad to do it for you."

            Dr. Z. "You mean handle the check-ups?"

            Capt. M. "No, fall all over you."

            Dr. Z. <heh> "Very funny, MacMurray. I – ah... Oh Shit!"

            Capt. M. "What's the matter?"

            Dr. Z. "I just realized - YOU WEREN'T KIDDING! I'm a _Woman!_ And there's no safe way to reverse the process! I was so wrapped up in heading this thing off, that it never really sunk in - I'm gonna havta be a woman for the rest of my life!"

            Capt. M. "Hey, hey, chill out, Doc! I mean, consider the alternative!" Captain MacMurray jerks a thumb at the hologram 'dissection' of one of the malformed corpses. "And, hey, at least you're a babe!"

            Dr. Z. "Ah, Man, it gets worse and worse."

            Capt. M. "C'mon, Doc - you were doing so well there, too!"

            Dr. Z. "What are you talking about, MacMurray?

            Capt. M. "C'mon, Doc - snap out of it! All through this, you've been acting like a real human being, instead of a burned-out rummy-"

            Dr. Z. "I've been wearing this AA Module-"

            Capt. M. "Y'can't put having yer act t'gether on a chip, Doc. All that can do is keep your from drinkin'. The second that you saw that skeleton, you pulled yer head outta yer ass and were on the ball for a change. I didn't believe it at first, but when you took the risk of going into that Forced Maturation process, I hadda admit that you weren't just a chip away from the gutter. I mean, what was it about that skeleton that brought you out of that funk that you been in since I met you?"

            Doctor Zheng rubs her face in her hands. Dr. Z. "MacMurray, have you ever wondered how I wound up out here?"

            Capt. M. "Well, I always assumed-" MacMurray cups his hand and tips it toward his mouth, to suggest too much drinking.

            Dr. Z. "No, that wasn't it. I mean, I did more than my fair share of drinking on the way, but that's not what got me out here."

            Capt. M. "So, what was it?"

            Dr. Z. "MacMurray, do you know where Xi'am Bao Lah is? It's a pretty well settled secondary colony out from Alpha. My family's been there for generations. Not First Families, or anything, but not newbies either. We fought our way up the social ladder, one generation at a time. I was the Great Hope of my family in my generation. They scrimpted and saved so that I could go through Medical School; you know the routine. Anyway, I went through Med School, and met my wife Yumei there. She was a doctor's daughter. We had the stock Med School romance and were married right after we finished our internships. After that, we set up as residents at a hospital called Thousand Hands of Mercy, and proceeded to have a rather average pair of medical careers."

            Capt. M. "And this is going where?"

            Dr. Z. "The point is, back when we were in Med School, Yumei and I made plans - plans to be something more than just another pair of pill pushers and medical test pimps for a HMO. We wanted to make some kind of real contribution. But there was always something in the way - Med School, the internships, bills, Student Loans to pay, things like that. Bit by bit, we became just another pair of cogs in a machine that put patients on a conveyor belt, ran them through the usual processes, and hoped that they'd get well enough to pay the bill. Then eight years ago, I noticed a strange trend in our patients. A couple of hundred of them had died over the previous five years, due to conditions caused by a local xeno-mycot. [Subscript: xeno-mycot; a xeno-mycot is a local life form that closely resembles, has the same basic life-functions and occupies the same eco-niche as Terran derived funguses, but isn't related to them in any way]. That particular spore wasn't normally very troublesome; indeed, only one in several hundred people was even mildly allergic to it. But this spore was kicking up and doing things to hundreds of people, things that it normally did to one in several thousands. It took me months, but I not only empirically proved that it was that particular spore doing the dirty work, but what was making it do it-"

            Capt. M. "Drum Roll - the envelope please - and our winner is?"

            Dr. Z. "A popular over the counter sinus remedy. A major part of it's pharmaceutical package was a mild fungicide that was effective against most xeno-mycots on Xi'am Baoh Lah."

            Capt. M. "Except that one."

            Dr. Z. "Exactly. Actually, it was mildly effective - just effective enough to weed out all the 'weaker' strains and nurture a 'super mycot'."

            Capt. M. "It sounds like you did some good work, Doc."

            Dr. Z. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But the Board of Directors at Thousand Hands didn't see it that way - it seems that the parent company of the pharmaceutical company is also a major stockholder in the parent company of the HMO that owns Thousand Hands. Y'see, when I gave my report and research to the Board, they decided to get a 'second opinion'. A year later, they were still getting that 'second opinion'. And then they denied ever getting my report. And then-"

            Capt. M. "I get get the idea, Doc. They decided that not pissing off that pharmaceutical company was more important than saving those patients' lives."

            Dr. Z. "Oh, if only it were that straightforward! No, I made a fuss and sent my report and research directly to the ETSA Health Office. ETSA-HO confirmed my report. Then it got weird. The Hospital Politicking went into Hyderdrive. By the time that they got through with me, it looked like _I_ had all but poisoned all those people and kept the Hospital Board from warning ETSA-HO with a shotgun."

            Capt. M. "But if you were the one that sent in the report to ETSA-HO-"

            Dr. Z. "Hey, it's been Six Years, and I'm STILL not exactly sure of how they pulled it off, but they did."

            Capt. M. "So, they made you the scapegoat, 'cause you were the whistle blower-"

            Dr. Z. "Oh, it gets worse! There was an Official Inquiry. The Board at Thousand Hands whipped up this absurd fantasy to discredit me. But, not to worry, I have all my documentation, right? I wasn't fool enough to start all this up without getting hard copies and signatures and notarizations of everything. But my wife Yumei - my wife! - destroyed everything! And - and then - then she gets up on the Witness Stand, and tells the Board of Inquiry that I'm a burned-out never-was <sniffle> drunk, who beat her - and more or less engineered the whole thing to look like a hero..."

            Capt. M. <Eeewww...>

            Dr. Z. "And then she kicked me out of the house, started divorce proceedings, and pretty much took me to the cleaners. She even claimed that I beat her, and tried to get her to commit perjury. Thousand Hands slapped me with lawsuits, Panaceutics - the pharmaceuticals company - tried to sue me for slander, and there were even rumors of criminal charges being prepared. So, I skipped off world and lit out for the Frontiers."

            Capt. M. "So the drunk charges were bogus?"

            Dr. Z. "Oh, I drank all right, but I had it under control - I knew when to say 'no', and never got drunk when I had a shift coming. Yumei just made that up. But when I skipped out, I hit the skids pretty hard."

            Capt. M. "Woof! I can imagine!"

            Dr. Z. "I don't think you understand. Even after twenty years, I still loved my wife. Part of it all was that I wanted to break us out of the rut we'd fallen into. But she didn't see it that way. She decided that staying on the right side of the Board was more important than doing the right thing. Even more important than us. <huunnnhhh...>"

            Capt. M. "Well, I can see how that would rattle you, but why would seeing that skeleton snap you out of it?"

            Dr. Z. "Well... When Yumei stabbed me in the back, she didn't just ruin my reputation, she - Well, I didn't just love my wife. I respected her. I just couldn't shake off the nagging worry that maye she was right - that maybe on some level I was a burned-out never was who arranged everything just to look like a hero. On a level, I was - I wanted desperately to do something great! Maybe, just maybe I pulled some kind of bizarre Munchausen's by Proxy-"

            Capt. M. "Munchausen's by Proxy?"

            Dr. Z. "It's a psychological syndrome, where parents injure their children in order to get sympathy."

            Capt. M. "So, you thought that maybe you fudged the evidence, in order to look like a big hero?"

            Dr. Z. "Then, when I saw that impossible skeleton, I knew that I knew better. That I still had my grip. MacMurray, being right is very important to a doctor. You have to be absolutely certain that you know what you're doing, when you more or less have a person's life in your hands. Even if you don't know what the bug or condition in front of you is, you know how to look for what's wrong, and how to be in control of the situation so that it doesn't get worse while you're looking. It's a lot like being a ship's captain-"

            Capt. M. "Hey, don't drag me into this, Doc."

            Dr. Z. "When Yumei ripped me apart on the witness stand, she tore out that part that was sure of what he was doing. When I saw that skeleton, I knew that it wasn't right. I felt that if I could figure out what was going on and stop it, that I'd get my confidence back. That I could be a real doctor again! That I could-"

            Capt. M. "That you could get your wife to love you again?"

            Dr. Z. <Breaks down crying>

            Captain MacMurray takes Doctor Zheng in his arms. Capt. M. "Hey, hey, Doc, it'll be all right..." Captain MacMurray pulls her away from his chest and kisses her. Doctor Zheng stiffens for a moment, but doesn't stop the captain. MacMurray builds up steam, running his hands over her body. Zheng sighs and arches her body in response.

[Voiceover: Tao, y'know, how Ding will say that she she thinks one thing while she does another, or says that she's dearest friends with some other woman, just after she rips her apart? Well, she isn't kidding you. Women really can have four or five equally valid reactions at the same time. While men are - uhm...- focused, linear in their attentions, women... women kind of radiate out in all directions, trying to cover everything at once. When MacMurray grabbed me, I was overwhelmed; I felt all the anger that I felt over being blamed for all those deaths, when I was the one who found the reason and stopped it; I felt the shame of being pointed at and sneered at; I felt the shock and bitterness of Yumei throwing me over for a bunch of murdering hypocrites and a goddamn pension. I felt the relief of knowing that I still had my touch; I felt the elation of knowing that I was right - no matter what anybody said! I felt the pride of knowing that I'd saved all those men on the Yankee Eagle. I felt the pain of losing my Manhood, and the fear of not knowing what would happen to me, now that I was female for the rest of my life. And then, when I felt MacMurray's hands on me, I felt intruded on - or at least I should have; instead, my body reacted. I was a woman, being handled by a man! And there was that feeling that Evan found me beautiful and desirable, that he wanted me. That I was wanted... When he kissed me, he swept aside all the other stuff, and I could concentrate on being held and kissed and wanted. And believe me, it was a relief!]

[Voiceover: Don't ask me where it came from, but I was hot for MacMurray's bod. Either it was his pheromones, or the nanites kicking in my pleasure centers, or the incredible loneliness that I'd been feeling, or maybe I just wasn't as straight as I'd always thought.]

[Voiceover: All right, now for the nitty gritty - the moment of truth,What was it like? The only word that comes even close is intense. So many thing happening all at once, and my entire world has shrunk down to an area the size of a grapefruit. When he entered me, all that I can say is that is was...unprecedented. He just kept going and going, like his cock had somehow become a MILE LONG, and it was all supposed to fit somehow inside of me. Then the pain stopped, and I could concentrate on the pleasure.]

[Voiceover: And now for the BIG question - what's orgasm like? Tao, I'm a doctor, not a romance novelist. The best that I can come up with is a 'Happy Bomb' going off inside your gut and firecrackers going off everywhere else. Yeah, Bro, I know that it sucks, but that's the best that I can come up with!]

            Dr. Z. <blushing> "Thank you. That was wonderful."

            Capt. M. "Yeah, it was, wasn't it?" He gently kisses her. Zheng smiles and lays back in the cot. Her eyes flutter close, and she is quickly asleep. MacMurray carefully gets off of her and the bed. He looks down at her.

            Capt. M. "Yeah, it was wonderful, sweetheart." He leans over and kisses her again. Then he pulls the sheets up over her naked body, tucks her in, gets dressed and leaves. //End of Video Insert//

            Cue to Security feed of the Engine room, where the attractive young Hindi ethnic woman last called 'Mopsy' is explaining something technical to a passenger, who is spending most of his attention trying to get a look down her jumpsuit.

            Cue to Security feed of the Viewing lounge, with a spectacular view of the approaching planet. A couple are seated on a bench, with her head on his shoulder.

//End of Recording//