Three

Sma suspected a lot of ship crews were crazy. For that matter, she suspected a fair few of the ships themselves weren't totally together in the sanity department, either. There were only twenty people on the very fast picket Xenophobe, and Sma had noticed that — as a general rule — the smaller the crew, the weirder the behaviour. So she was already prepared for the ship's staff being pretty off the wall even before the module entered the ship's hangar.

"Ah-choo!" the young crewman sneezed, covering his nose with one hand while extending the other to Sma as she stepped from the module. Sma jerked her hand back, looking at the young man's red nose and streaming eyes. "Ais Disgarb, Ms Sma," the fellow said, blinking and sniffing, and looking hurt, "Belcome aboard."

Sma put her hand out again cautiously. The crewman's hand was extremely hot. "Thank you," Sma said.

"Skaffen-Amtiskaw," the drone said from behind her.

"Heddo," the young man waved at the drone. He took a small piece of cloth from one sleeve and dabbed at his leaky eyes and nose.

"Are you entirely all right?" Sma said.

"Dot really," he said. "God a cold. Blease," he indicated to one side, "cob with be."

"A cold," Sma nodded, falling into step alongside the fellow; he was dressed in a jellaba, as though he'd just got out of bed.

"Yes," the young man said, leading the way through the Xenophobe "s collection of smallcraft, satellites and assorted paraphernalia towards the rear of the hangar. He sneezed again, sniffed. "Sobthig ob a fad on the shib ad the bow-bid." (Here Sma, immediately behind the man as they walked between two closely parked modules, turned quickly back to look at Skaffen-Amtiskaw and mouthed the word. " What?" at it, but the machine wobbled, shrugging. ME NEITHER it printed on its aura field, in letters of grey on a rosy background.) "Be all tought it'd be abusing to relax our ibude systebs and cadge colds," the young crewman explained, showing her and the drone into an elevator at one end of the hangar.

"All of you?" Sma said, as the door closed and the elevator rolled and rose. "The whole crew?"

"Yes, dough dot all ad the sabe tibe. The peebil who've recobered say id's very pleasid abter it's ober."

"Yes," Sma said, glancing at the drone, which was keeping a standard pattern of formal blue on its aura field, apart from one large red dot on its side that probably only she could see; it was pulsing rapidly. When she noticed it she almost started laughing herself. She cleared her throat. "Yes, I suppose it would be."

The young man sneezed mightily.

"Due for a spot of R-and-R soon, are we?" Skaffen-Amtiskaw asked him. Sma nudged the machine with her elbow.

The young crewman looked puzzledly at the machine. "Jusd bidished sub, adjilly."

He glanced away to the elevator door as it started to open, Skaffen-Amtiskaw and Sma exchanged looks; Sma crossed her eyes.

They stepped into a wide social area, floored and walled with some dark red wood, polished to the point of gleaming; it supported a variety of richly upholstered couches and chairs, and a few low tables. The ceiling wasn't particularly high, but very attractive, composed of great flutes of gathered-up material rippling in from the walls and hung with many little lanterns. From the light level, it looked to be early morning, ship time. A group of people round one of the tables broke up and came towards her.

"Biz Sba," the young crewman said indicating Sma, his voice seeming to get thicker all the time. The other people — about fifty-fifty men and women — smiled, introduced themselves. She nodded, exchanged a few words; the drone said hello.

One of the people in the group held a little bundle of brown and yellow fur, cradled against one shoulder rather as one might hold a baby. "Here." the man said, presenting the tiny furry creature to Sma. She took it reluctantly. It was warm, had four limbs arranged conventionally, smelled attractive and wasn't any sort of animal she'd ever seen before; it had large ears on a large head, and as she held it, it opened its huge eyes and looked at her. "That's the ship," the man who'd handed her the animal said.

"Hello," the tiny being squeaked.

Sma looked it up and down. "You're the Xenophobe?"

"Its representative. The bit you can talk to. You can call me Xeny." It smiled; it had little round teeth. "I know most ships just use a drone, but," it glanced at Skaffen-Amtiskaw, "they can be a bit boring, don't you think?"

Sma smiled, and sensed Skaffen-Amtiskaw's aura flicker out of the corner of her eye. "Well, sometimes," she agreed.

"Oh yes," the little creature said, nodding. "I'm much cuter." It wriggled in her hands, looking happy. "If you like," it giggled, "I'll show you to your cabin, yes?"

"Yes; good idea," nodded Sma, and put the thing over her shoulder. The crewpeople called out to say they'd see her later as she, the ship's bizarre remote drone and Skaffen-Amtiskaw headed for the accommodation section.

"Ooh, you're nice and warm," the little brown and yellow creature mumbled sleepily, snuggling into Sma's neck as they headed down a deeply carpeted corridor for Sma's quarters. It stirred and she found herself patting its back. "Left here," it said, at a junction, then, That's us just breaking orbit now, by the way."

"Good," Sma said.

"Can I cuddle up with you when you sleep?"

Sma stopped, detached the creature from her shoulder with one hand and stared it in the face. "What?"

"Just for chumminess" sake," the little thing said, yawning wide and blinking. "I'm not being rude; it's a good bonding procedure."

Sma was aware of Skaffen-Amtiskaw glowing red just behind her. She brought the yellow and brown device closer to her face. "Listen, Xenophobe —»

"Xeny."

"Xeny; you are a million-tonne starship; a Torturer class Rapid Offensive Unit. Even —»

"But I'm demilitarised!"

"Even without your principal armament, I bet you could waste planets if you wanted to —»

"Aw, come on; any silly GCU can do that!"

"So what is all this shit for?" She shook the furry little remote drone, quite hard. Its teeth chattered.

"It's for a laugh!" it cried. "Sma; don't you appreciate a joke?"

"I don't know. Do you appreciate being drop-kicked back to the accommodation area?"

"Ooo! What's your problem, lady? Have you got something against small furry animals, or what? Look, Ms Sma; I know very well I'm a ship, and I do everything I'm asked to do — including taking you to this frankly rather fuzzily specified destination — and do it very efficiently, too. If there was the slightest sniff of any real action, and I had to start acting like a warship, this construct in your hands would go lifeless and limp immediately, and I'd battle as ferociously and decisively as I've been trained to. Meanwhile, like my human colleagues, I amuse myself harmlessly. If you really hate my current appearance, all right; I'll change it; I'll be an ordinary drone, or just a disembodied voice, or talk to you through Skaffen-Amtiskaw here, or through your personal terminal. The last thing I want to do is offend a guest."

Sma pursed her lips. She patted the thing on its head, and sighed. "Fair enough."

"I can keep this shape?"

"By all means."

"Oh goody!" It squirmed with pleasure, then opened its big eyes wide and looked hopefully at her. "Cuddle?"

"Cuddle." Sma cuddled it, patted its back.

She turned to see Skaffen-Amtiskaw lying dramatically on its back in mid-air, its aura field flashing the lurid orange that was used to signal Sick Drone in Extreme Distress.

Sma nodded goodbye to the little brown and yellow animal as it waddled away down the corridor which led back to the social area (it waved back with one chubby little paw), then closed the cabin door and made sure the room's internal monitoring was off.