He liked the ancient machine; he'd really come on this cruise looking for romance, and he still hoped to find it, but in the meantime finding such a perfect companion and raconteur had already made him glad he'd come. The trouble was the drone was supposed to get off here and go to visit some old drone pals who lived on the island, before resuming its cruise on the next dirigible, due in a few days" time. A month from now, it would be leaving on the GSV that had brought it here.

"But I feel I'd be letting them down."

"Look, just stay another day," the man suggested. "You never did finish telling me about — what was it, Bhughredi?"

"Yes, Bhughredi." The old drone chuckled.

"Exactly. Bhughredi; the sea nukes and the interference effect thing or whatever it was."

"Damnedest way to launch a ship," the old drone agreed, and made a sighing noise.

"So what did happen?"

"Like I said, it's a long story."

"So stay tomorrow; tell me it. You're a drone for goodness" sake; you can float back by yourself…"

"But I said I'd visit them when the airship got here, Tish. Anyway; my AG units are due a service; they'd probably fail and I'd end up at the bottom of the sea having to be rescued; very embarrassing."

"Take a flyer back!" the man said, watching the island's shore slide underneath. People gathered round fires on the beach waved up at the craft. He could hear music drifting on the warm breeze.

"Oh, I don't know… They'd probably be upset."

Tishlin drank from his glass and frowned down at the waves breaking on the beach which led towards the lights of the town. A particularly large and vivid firework detonated in the air directly above the bright docking tower. Oos and Aahs duly sounded round the crowded balcony.

The man snapped his fingers. "I know," he said. "Send a mind-state abstract."

The big drone hesitated, then said, "Oh, one of those. Hmm. Well; still not really the same thing, I think. Anyway, I've never done one. Not sure I really approve. I mean, it's you but it's not you, you know?"

Tishlin nodded. "Certainly do know. Can't say I think they're as, you know, benign as they're cracked up to be either; I mean, it's supposed to act sentient without being sentient, so isn't it actually sentient? What happens to it when it's just turned off? I'm not convinced there isn't some sort of iffy morality here, either. But I've done it myself. Talked into it. Reservations, like you say, but…" He looked round, then leant closer to the machine's dull brown casing. "Bit of a Contact thing, actually."

"Really?" the old machine said, tipping its whole body away from him for a moment, then tipping it back so that it leant towards him. It extended a field round the two of them; the exterior sounds faded. When it spoke again, it was with a slight echo that indicated the field was keeping whatever they said between the two of them. "What was that… Well, wait a moment, if you aren't supposed to tell anybody…"

Tishlin weaved his hand. "Well, not officially," he said, brushing white hair over one ear, "but you're a Contact veteran, and you know how SC always dramatises things."

"SC!" the drone said its voice rising. "You didn't say it was them! I'm not sure I want to hear this," it said, through a chuckle.

"Well, they asked… a favour," the man said, quietly pleased that he seemed finally to have impressed the old drone. "Sort of a family thing. Had to record one of these damn things so it could go and convince a nephew of mine he should do his bit for the great and good cause. Last I heard the boy had done the decent thing and taken ship for some Eccentric GSV." He watched the outskirts of the town slide underneath. A flower-garlanded terrace held groups of people pattern-dancing; he could imagine the whoops and wild, whirling music. The scent of roasting meat came curling over the balcony parapet and made it through the hushfield.

"They asked if I wanted it to be reincorporated after it had done its job," he told the drone. "They said it could be sent back and sort of put back inside my head, but I said no. Gave me a creepy feeling just thinking about it. What if it had changed a lot while it was away? Why, I might end up wanting to join some retreatist order or autoeuthenise or something!" He shook his head and drained his glass. "No; I said no. Hope the damn thing never was really alive, but if it was, or is, then it's not getting back into my head, no thank you, I'm sorry."

"Well, if what they told you was true, it's yours to do with as you wish, isn't it?"

"Exactly."

"Well, I don't think I'll take the same step," the drone said, sounding thoughtful. It swivelled as though to face him. The field around them collapsed. The sound of the fireworks returned. "Tell you what," the old drone said. "I will get off here and see the guys, but I'll catch up with you in a couple of days, all right? We'll probably fall out in a day or two anyway; they're cantankerous old buggers, frankly. I'll take a flyer or try floating myself if I feel adventurous. Deal?" It extended a field.

"Deal," Tishlin said, slapping the field with his hand.

The drone Gruda Aplam had already contacted its old friend the GCU It's Character Forming, currently housed in the GSV Zero Gravitas which was at that point docked under a distant plate of Seddun Orbital. The GCU communicated with the Orbital Hub Tsikiliepre, which in turn contacted the Ulterior Entity Highpoint, which signalled the LSV Misophist, which passed the message on to the University Mind at Oara, on Khasli plate in the Juboal system, which duly relayed the signal, along with an interesting series of rhyme-scheme glyphs, ordinary poems and word games all based on the original signal, to its favoured protege, the LSV Serious Callers Only…

[stuttered tight point, M32, tra. @n4.28. 866.2083]

xLSV Serious Callers Only

oEccentric Shoot Them Later

It is Genar-Hofoen. I am now convinced. I am not certain why he may be important to the conspiracy, but he surely is. I have drawn up a plan to intercept him, on Tier. The plan involves Phage Rock; will you back me up if I request its aid?

oo

[stuttered tight point, M32, tra. @n4.28.866.2568]

xEccentric Shoot Them Later

oLSV Serious Callers Only

My dear old friend, of course.

oo

Thank you. I shall make the request immediately. We shall be reduced to dealing with amateurs, I'm afraid. However, I hope to find a high-profile amateur; a degree of fame may protect where SC training is not available. What of our fellow counter-conspirator?

No word. Perhaps it's spending more time in The Land of IF.

oo

And the ship and Pittance?

oo

Arriving in eleven and a half days" time.

oo

Hmm. Four days after the time it will take for us to get somebody to Tier.

It is within the bounds of possibility this ship will be heading into a threatening situation. Is it able to take care of itself?

oo

Oh, I think it capable of giving a good account of itself. Just because I'm Eccentric doesn't mean I don't know some big hitters.

oo

Let us hope such throw-weight is not required.

oo

Absolutely.