"I know you say that, probably even believe it," Murply responded. "But it's a losing battle even if you do it honestly. Piracy and political and religious fanaticism are rampant and getting worse as things grow harder for people here and supplies run down. You not only can't stop it with this little independent navy of yours, you hardly even try. You spend all your time collecting your fees even while those characters invade whole colonies, raping and looting. Since I think you have a strong code of honor, I don't think you even see it, but I don't know anybody who doesn't hate you and fear you. They can't tell the difference between you and the bad guys, Captain. That's what I mean about being machines. You have a system that's blind to reality and you still go through the motions and justify your actions even though they're entirely motivated by self-preservation urges having nothing to do with your so-called 'mission.' You just keep doing it because that's what you're programmed to do."

"I don't think we're quite as soulless as you make us out to be. I admit we can do less and less and things are going down and that we're like a small child holding up the collapsing wall and getting more and more tired as we do so and the weight of the wall comes down on us, but what is your alternative? Lose all sense of duty and honor, quit, watch it fall from a drunken amoral haze or some drugged stupor and say the hell with everybody? That's your problem, Murphy. You're so busy looking at us as machines that your total loss of faith prevents you from looking in the mirror and seeing what I see here before me now."

"Indeed? And what is that?"

"An empty suit. A dead man who doesn't have the sense to know he's already in Hell. So what am I to do with you, Murphy? You and your… cargo?"

The words had little effect on the old man, but he felt he had to defend his pride against this martinet. "That's Captain Murphy, sir!"

"Captains have ships," Kim replied. "And you don't, Citizen Murphy. Not any more. We will fumigate that scow and then take it to the nearest salvage yard and trade it for something we can use, even though its trade value isn't all that much. We can't do much to or with you, though. You're too old and too much the physical and mental corpse to have any value, and you are a deficit if we keep you around as a consumer of our resources. But since you haven't done anything to us that would warrant execution, we'll probably simply drop you penniless and stark naked on the first planet we come across and see if you can start from scratch."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Murphy responded, although inside he was seething. "And the girls?"

"We haven't decided on that yet. I have all my staff recommendations here, but I'm not about to make any decisions until I've personally interviewed each of them and made up my own mind. Why do you ask? Do you really care what happens to them? Or is it that you didn't get full payment until you delivered them?"

"I ain't no buyer and seller of human flesh! Them girls paid for their passages and I'm responsible for 'em until they get where they were goin'. What are you gonna do, you starched bald bloodsucker? Take their babies as your taxes?"

"I hardly think their babies would be of much use to us. It is far too late to genetically enhance them, and we begin with raw sperm and raw egg. No, Mister Murphy, I rather think I'll speak with them and then decide. They are not on our account books, but are, shall we say, left in the lurch by your actions. So unless you want to give me an account somewhere that will cover your back and present taxes and levies, I think you are out of the loop. You are dismissed and confined to quarters for now. Avail yourself of the facilities there. For God's sake, at least take a shower."

Murphy gave him a sour grin. "I don't think I can afford your water bill," he responded, turned, and started to walk out. Just before he reached the door, though, he stopped and turned back towards the captain. "Only one thing will I give you, sir. Don't put ' em together. Mix ' em up. Keep ' em separate. Otherwise you'll mightily regret it."

"What? What are you talking about, man?"

"The girls. Keep ' em apart. I'm pretty sure they're only dangerous when they're together, and I guarantee you they'll be bored to death on this antiseptic platform."

"Why in the name of heaven should we worry about those… ladies?"

Murphy grinned. "Well, you've been warned." He gave the captain a smirk and a half-hearted salute and turned and exited.

The captain shook his head in wonder. This was a ship that could destroy a planet. There was simply no more secure place in the known universe. He didn't appreciate the old boy trying to play mind games with him.

Another officer emerged from behind a panel near the captain's seat. Commander Sittithong looked close to the captain's age but she had aged less well than he.

Kim turned and looked over at her. "That man is hiding something."

Sittithong nodded. "Probably a lot, sir. But I doubt if we could tell truth from lie even with our best interrogation systems. I've seen his like before. Pathological. Whatever he's spinning, he believes-at least when he's spinning it. To get down to the core and learn the truth would probably destroy his mind. His sort made great spies in the old days."

"Indeed. I'd like to crack that nut, but for something like back taxes it's not something I could justify to the Admiralty and would certainly be beyond regulations. Perhaps we'll learn more from the young ladies. Perhaps you should question them, or at least the first one, while I duck out of sight. They might feel more comfortable."

"I doubt that, sir. Still, if you want to try, I can take the first, then if I have no luck you can take the second, and perhaps both of us will take the third if that doesn't work."

He nodded and got up. "Good idea. I confess that I am going to find dealing with them to be most uncomfortable. Compared to our ways, it is almost as if dealing with an alien species."

Sittithong shrugged. "I am not much closer to them than you in that, but let's see." The thought of actually having a man put his thing inside her and squirt fluids up into her insides, and maybe for the result to be a baby actually growing in there was enough to make her shudder, she who would have thought nothing of charging into a nest full of pirates with only a sidearm. It was all so… ugly. And messy. And to be controlled by hormones that overrode rationality was almost unthinkable to her, as it was to the other naval personnel. Like most, she thought of "ordinary" humans as closer to the animals than to the purity of mind and body the military way represented.

Still, she'd dealt with a lot of them, both men and women, in her time, and even though she couldn't remember dealing with pregnant young women, she was certainly ready to give it a try.

As the captain settled in on the chair behind the partition, Commander Sittithong took the command chair and pressed a small disk on the thin, crescent-shaped desk in front of her. "Send in the first woman. No preference. Any one of them will do."

The door across from the exec slid back and a young woman entered, looking not just hesitant but downright scared.

Murphy had stood, but there was a thin, rigid but functional chair facing the command chair. "Please have a seat if you like," the commander said as softly and as friendly sounding as she could manage.

"Uh, yeah. Thank you, Mum," the woman muttered, and sat. She looked no more comfortable sitting than standing, but apparently it was better than nothing.

The screen area of the desk lit up with the complete files and digest of the initial interview with this young woman. "You are Irish O'Brian? Your true name?"