So this morning I tried to process an order a customer had sent me last night.  I went to log into my photolab service provider, exposuremanager.com, just like I always do.  Bzzzt.  Can't get in.  "This link appears to be broken."

Huh, maybe it's my machine.  So I try my daughter's machine, nope she can't see it either.  Internet down?  Nope I can get my email and see all the other sites I use regularly.

So I (reasonably) assume exposuremanager is down.  That's not too cool--because while it is down my customers can't place orders.  So I call customer support and leave them a message that their site is down.

A little while later I get an e-mail from them stating their site is up and running fine (and by the way, nice pictures on your site!) Thanks, but I still can't get in.

So I try the DOS utility "ping" to ping their server.  Sometimes it can't resolve exposuremanager to an IP address (implying a problem with a domain name server at Comcast) and other times it can resolve the IP address but gets no response.  I check with WHOIS on Tucows (their registrar) to see if their domain has expired, but it hasn't.  WTF?

So then I run a traceroute in an attempt to see where the communication fails between me and exposuremanager:

Tracing route to exposuremanager.com [66.254.91.235]

over a maximum of 30 hops:

 

  1    <1 ms    <1 ms    <1 ms  www.routerlogin.com [192.168.1.1]

  2     7 ms    10 ms     7 ms  [ my IP omitted ]

  3     8 ms     8 ms     6 ms  ge-1-2-ur01.gardner.ma.boston.comcast.net [68.85.187.109]

  4    11 ms    10 ms     9 ms  te-0-8-0-2-ar01.woburn.ma.boston.comcast.net [68.85.162.93]

  5    14 ms     9 ms     9 ms  pos-0-15-0-0-ar01.needham.ma.boston.comcast.net [68.85.162.145]

  6    15 ms    14 ms    22 ms  pos-0-0-0-0-ar01.chartford.ct.hartford.comcast.net [68.85.162.70]

  7    16 ms    18 ms    17 ms  pos-2-4-0-0-cr01.newyork.ny.ibone.comcast.net [68.86.90.61]

  8    22 ms    18 ms    17 ms  Vlan546.icore1.NJY-Newark.as6453.net [206.82.132.41]

  9    17 ms    45 ms    18 ms  if-6-0-0-25.mcore3.NJY-Newark.as6453.net [216.6.57.41]

 10    19 ms    17 ms    18 ms  if-2-0.core1.NTO-NewYork.as6453.net [216.6.57.66]

 11    17 ms    18 ms    19 ms  sl-gw31-nyc-14-0-0.sprintlink.net [160.81.249.29]

 12    18 ms    19 ms    17 ms  sl-crs2-nyc-0-2-0-0.sprintlink.net [144.232.13.35]

 13    23 ms    27 ms    19 ms  sl-bb20-msq-2-0-0.sprintlink.net [144.232.20.74]

 14    22 ms    22 ms    24 ms  sl-bb21-msq-15-0-0.sprintlink.net [144.232.9.110]

 15    26 ms    26 ms    27 ms  sl-crs1-rly-0-8-5-0.sprintlink.net [144.232.20.73]

 16    25 ms    25 ms    26 ms  sl-bb20-dc-5-0-0.sprintlink.net [144.232.8.162]

 17    24 ms    28 ms    25 ms  sl-crs1-dc-0-0-0-0.sprintlink.net [144.232.15.11]

 18    74 ms    73 ms    74 ms  sl-crs2-fw-0-11-3-0.sprintlink.net [144.232.19.200]

 19     *        *        *     Request timed out.

 20     *        *        *     Request timed out.

 21     *        *        *     Request timed out.

 22     *        *        *     Request timed out.

 23     *        *        *     Request timed out.

 24     *        *        *     Request timed out.

 25     *        *        *     Request timed out.

 26     *        *        *     Request timed out.

 27     *        *        *     Request timed out.

 28     *        *        *     Request timed out.

 29     *        *        *     Request timed out.

 30     *        *        *     Request timed out.

 

Trace complete.

As you can see, the communication makes it to "sl-crs2-fw-0-11-3-0.sprintlink.net [144.232.19.200]" and then fails.  Sprintlink.net is inside of the Sprint network.  To get as far as I did required the services of three companies, Comcast (comcast.net),  Tata Communications (as6453.net), and Sprint (sprintlink.net). None of these companies is my company (sagewoodstudios.com) or my photolab service provider (exposuremanager.com).  In fact after the last hop, I don't know what the next address would be--it might be a fourth company, or another server in the Sprint network.  Exposure Manager can't help me--it's not their computer.  Comcast can't help me--it's not their computer either.  Sprint *might* be able to help me, but I'm not their customer. 

What I do know is, if I didn't have to use this route, I would indeed be able to get there.  I found an online provider of the standard 'net tools (ping, traceroute, etc.) called Network-Tools.com (that's a handy link btw, you might want to bookmark it).  I can get to their server to see their website, and when I ask THEM to do a traceroute to exposuremanager, they can get there just fine:

TraceRoute to 66.254.91.235 [exposuremanager.com]

Hop

(ms)

(ms)

(ms)

IP Address

Host name

1

8

6

6

206.123.69.137

-

2

9

6

6

8.9.232.73

xe-5-3-0.edge3.dallas1.level3.net

3

12

7

7

4.69.145.140

ae-3-80.edge2.dallas3.level3.net

4

8

15

6

4.71.220.14

xo-communic.edge2.dallas3.level3.net

5

10

12

9

207.88.13.122

207.88.13.122.ptr.us.xo.net

6

41

40

40

207.88.12.46

207.88.12.46.ptr.us.xo.net

7

41

40

40

65.106.1.69

65.106.1.69.ptr.us.xo.net

8

41

49

52

65.106.5.10

p0-0-0.mar2.la-ca.us.xo.net

9

46

40

40

207.88.81.170

p15-0.chr1.la-ca.us.xo.net

10

50

44

45

66.238.50.106

66.238.50.106.ptr.us.xo.net

11

53

45

47

66.254.64.1

gw1.pixelgate.net

12

53

50

47

66.254.91.235

host235.exposuremanager.com

Trace complete

As you can see, because they are starting from a different provider (level3.net) their communication path takes a different route that never involves any of the companies I'm forced to use.  If Network-Tools.com provided a "browser in a browser" basically an embedded frame that I could point anywhere I want to, I'd be able to get to my photolab and process my customer's orders.

In the meantime I'm pretty stuck.  I can't help my customers, and my service provider can't help me.  Welcome to the Internet... where you really "can't get thar from hyar".

What I don't have is interest.  There's a lot going on in my life, and I'd rather get on with it than write about it.  Besides I doubt anybody really wants to read about it.  So I've been neither writing in my blog, nor really reading the blogs of others.  I check in on Aces Full and Pandora's Tea Room every now and again, but that is pretty much it.  I post on MOTL every now and again, but not too frequently now that the werewolf games were cancelled due to people taking them too seriously.

What's been occupying my time is my photography business.  It seems to be picking up, which is great, because I simply love this work.  I did a school dance in February, and a photoshoot for an aspiring actor.  In May I did a costume shoot for a dance school which is the first shoot I've done where I can unequivocably say that I made pretty good money.

June's been hopping.  I did a graduation shoot for a relative (no money, but I did some networking at the school while I was there that might turn into business), and a graduation party for the same relative.  This past Thursday night I shot the dress rehearsal for a stage production of a dance interpretation of Peter Pan.  Friday night I shot the eighth grade dance of a middle school in southeastern Massachusetts.  Then Saturday I shot the 1PM and 7PM performances of Peter Pan (42 Gb of pix in one day... yowza!)

I wrote about this a little bit on a message forum, so I figured I'd share that here.

---

June 12, 2009 11:01 AM

Last night's shoot went well but I am exhausted. I took a chance and produced a 36" x 24" (poster size) print of the main cast (with some added text) and it came out GREAT. I was amazed. I expected at that size the image would be very fuzzy--you know "stand a few feet away and it will look fine". Nope, it was nice and sharp. About 90 minutes of post production and cost about $50 to print, and I gave it to the dance school director as a gift.

She went positively gaga over it and hung it immediately as a poster for her show. The kids loved it too.

Of course I had a couple totally unrealistic parents come up to me after the show asking if I "had any extras" or would "give them one". "These are quite expensive to print. Of course I can have one made and shipped to you but it would cost $100." "Oh forget it then." LOL. It's so hard to make money in this business unless you are doing weddings or products. For the costume shoot I spent 8 hours shooting, and 50 hours in post production. My total profit after printing and shipping was $800--that's $13.75 per hour and no matter what price you charge people think it's too much.

Anyway the dress rehearsal shoot went great, apart from the 580 EX burning though batteries like there's no tomorrow. 4.5 hours of shooting, 1,105 pictures, 30 batteries eaten. I picked up a digital frame and loaded it with a bunch of work I've done over the last couple years and set that up next to the fliers--that got some attention. I had a number of people come up to me after the show and tell me how much they loved my work, which is always nice. We'll see if they still love me when I raise my prices next year. 

So tonight I have a middle school dance to shoot, and then tomorrow I have to shoot the performances that I went to the dress rehearsal for. Busy few days!

---

June 13, 2009 1:55 AM

Tonight's Middle School Dance shoot was exhausting but fun. These kids were different that the kids at my daughter's middle school--they were a lot stiffer... nobody danced for like the first 90 minutes. I was like WTF? Heck I wanted to put the camera down and dance myself. The DJ was great, all the tunes were current.

This was an 8th grade dance and soon the kids will all be going off to different highschools so there was a lot of emotionality... a lot of kids were crying toward the end... that doesn't exactly make for a nice photo.

Kids at my daughter's art school are also more hammy for the camera, these kids pretty much constantly ducked and hid whenever the camera showed up. This behavior drives me nuts, I'm being paid to shoot the dance, these kids are bawling that they're not going to see their friends again, and they're not going to have pictures of their friends to remember because they're too busy responding to the camera in the way they've been trained to respond "ooh don't take my picture I look ugly". You just want to say "Jesus, grow up already." Sometimes I say to them "this may come as a surprise, but we can all see you... we already know what you look like." No matter, I just switched to the 200mm and shot long... you get nice closeups that way and the kids don't know who is being photographed.

All in all I think it went well. Two big shoots tomorrow... man am I beat.

---

June 13, 2009 9:44 AM

Fell out of bed about 8:20... showered, shaved, and will be heading out for the third and biggest of this weeks three shoots. What an exhausting time this has been! No flash today ('cept before and after) so I shouldn't need a frickin' gross of AA batts...

---

June 14, 2009 7:37 PM

Yesterday's shoots were positively EXHAUSTING! But I think it went well. At the end of the afternoon performance I knew I was in trouble tho... I had shot 20+ Gb of pictures, and I only had 22 Gb in CF cards with me. I had time before the 7PM performance so I went to best buy and purchased another 20 Gb of CF memory (1x 8 GB, 3x 4 Gb). During the second performance I shot the entire remaining 22 Gb. For the after photos I had to switch from RAW to JPG, and pull out my old "emergency card"--a 512 mB card that I've often questioned why I still carry it. Thank heavens I had it!

But 42 jigglebytes in a single day is some outrageous shooting. About 3,500 pictures. Sorting through this is going to be fun. Lightroom is chewing on them now and probably will be until tomorrow.

Emma was able to perform as Peter Pan, which was nice, though she had to hold back and give a slightly more subdued performance to prevent further injury to her ankle. It was nice seeing her dance at all though.

The "movie poster" was a big hit. About 700 people filed past it and every time I went out into the hall to shoot candids there were people looking at it and my digital frame (yay!). The thing I liked best was when I caught the dancers looking at it, they really liked it and it made for some nice photos. Have I mentioned how much I love this work?

I got more compliments and requests on Saturday, some people looking to buy the poster print. I added it to the show gallery and enabled large format printing options (and T-shirts, which my lab has begun to offer).

So now begins the long slog of post processing. But with so many pictures to choose from I should be able to come up with some that are sure to please. And the post work should be hella easier than the costume shoot was.

Gonna be a lot of busy nights tho... but not today, today I am recuperating... 12 hours of driving over the last 3 days, getting home every night after 1 AM, sore as heck from shooting...

(Good news, I had two orders today from earlier galleries. Yay! Only $70 but I'm taking it as a good sign.)

Wow am I beat. But it's a good kind of beat, when you feel like you accomplished something.

On a quick run through the performance photos I found a nice little series. Peter Pan was not on a wire, so she got about by making beautiful acrobatic leaps. I managed to snap a series of leaps (on the tail end of the leap as she was coming down) as she leapt around the dancer playing the part of Wendy Darling. In the series it looks like Peter is flying...  Sweet!

---

This is Sunflower, or as we typically call her "Sunny".  As you know back in November of 2005 we lost our dear Maya.  A few weeks later we just couldn't bear not having cats in our house and went to a local pet shelter to adopt three kittens.  There were a number of things we didn't like about the way the shelter was run, but in the end we had three wonderful cats that we loved--affectionate, playful, and apparently healthy.

It turns out that the shelter let us down in that department too.  It turns out that Sunflower, the littlest kitty, the one bearing the name I gave her the day she came home, is infected with Feline Leukemia Virus (FeLV), and it has entered an advanced stage even though she is only 3 years old.  Our cats have never had contact with any strange cats since the shelter, and live entirely indoors--our veterinarian has informed us that Sunny almost certainly came from the shelter with the infection.  They went on to say that they have seen over the last couple years increasing numbers of sick cats from that particular shelter and no longer recommend it to people looking to adopt cats.

The shelter was supposed to have tested all of its cats for FeLV, and the tests are very reliable and hard to screw up.  But clearly they were remiss with regard to testing Sunny.  And now Sunny has been living (infected) in close quarters with our other cats for three years.  We've had the other cats tested and miraculously they are negative, so we immediately had them innoculated for the virus.

But poor Sunny is dying.  She will not eat, barely drinks at all, and hardly moves.  When she does move she staggers badly.  She still purrs when I pet her but she is clearly not going to last much longer.  I wouldn't be surprised if she dies tonite.  Given she is suffering a condition which is essentially incurable, I'll be taking her to the vet tomorrow to release her, barely 3 years old, from her suffering.  It's breaking my heart.

Our three kitties have bonded with each other over the years, and are always together, it's going to be very different with Sunny gone.  We really fell in love with our trio of cats, and it became quite a ritual to say "kittycats, kittycats, 1, 2, 3" whenever we saw them.  Or if we only saw a pair we would say "kittycats, kittycats, 1, 2, where's number 3?"  Now there will be no number 3.

My daughter took it very hard when Maya had to be put down.  When the kittens came home, she immediately took to Sunny, as Sunny was the littlest kitty.  And strangely, Sunny took to Neya, perhaps because Neya was the littlest person.  So while the other cats would sleep with Pat and I or follow us around, Sunny would always be found not far from our daughter, sleeping in her bed with her or nearby.  If I had to pick the worst cat to lose, Sunny would be the biggest loss.

It's just not fair.

---

UPDATE 4:08 PM: It's over.  Our little Sunny is gone.   I stayed with her until the end.

---

So I celebrated Pi Day with some friends yesterday and had a nice time.  The pies and treats were delicious.  Sadly I didn't bring a cherry pie for Julie, I will have to remember to do that next year.  The blueberry pie was great, the chicken pot pie was delicious, and though the glutin-free lemon meringue was very runny, it still tasted fine.

We played games (I had a nice long game of Carcassonne, and other people played Bohnanza), made up silly jokes and songs, and just had a very nice afternoon.  I got to meet some new friends, and spend a little time with some old ones. And I ate WAY too much pie.

This morning my idle mind wrote a little song parody based on the day which I decided to share here:

You made me blueberry,
Apple and pecan;
Wet meringue with lemon goo
And pot pie tastes so grand.

(The bigger, the better)
Our tummies fully crammed...
Collected from around the world
we'll eat them if we can!

Pies pies pies yeah!
Pies pies pies yeah!
Pies pies pies yeah!
Pies pies pies yeah!

The pound cake was delicious,
And whoopie pies were fine.
But poor Julie got no cherry,
What a waste of time.

Big ones and small ones,
Look lovely to our eyes,
Tantalizing on the plate,
Not so much on our thighs...

Pies pies pies yeah!
Pies pies pies yeah!
Pies pies pies yeah!
Pies pies pies yeah!

Go back to your larder,
Fetch me another plate,
My pancreas is still alive,
And I'm not the sort to wait.

The bigger, the better,
And some are glutin free,
So what if you don't eat your share,
More for me and me and me and me and me and

Pies pies pies yeah! (We're gonna eat you.)
Pies pies pies yeah! (Not too discreet to.)
Pies pies pies yeah! (Fat like a B-2.)
Pies pies pies yeah!

Oh you know I know...

Pies pies pies yeah!
Pies pies pies yeah!
Pies pies pies yeah!
Pies pies pies yeah!

Oh you know I know...

Pies pies pies yeah!
Pies pies pies yeah!
Pies pies pies yeah!
Pies pies pies yeah!

In a single payer system, the cost of healthcare drops dramatically.  Yes it's true taxes go up, but at this point?  They're going up anyway.  The economic stimulus our country needs is going to have to be paid for, and we are all going to pay for it.  Combine this with the 30 years this country has frittered away when it should have been building a new energy grid, green technologies, maintaining infrastructure, and so on, and it's clear, the party is over.

And by "the party is over" I'm referring to those artificially low taxes that our conservative friends still think are too high.

I am sick and tired of listening to gloom-and-doom naysayers fiddling about long lines, delays, and taxes while Rome burns.  I have friends who are suffering right now simply because they cannot get the help they need due to lack of coverage.

Single-payer health care works in many countries around the world, some better than others.  I have enough faith in American ingenuity that we can make it work here.  But it does mean (AFAIC) the end (or serious curtailing) of health insurance companies that have risen to wealth on their two core tenets--1. collect premiums, and 2. don't pay benefits.

For those who quake in fear at the notion?  We tried it your way for decades and it sucks.  I'm ready for something new.

NOTE: This story is chapter 3, the sequel to the previous chapter.  If you have not already read the first chapter or second chapter, you may wish to check them out first.

---

The visit with Ellan and Tyr had been long and leisurely, thirteen wonderful years exploring the seas of Regulus-4, a world Ellan had named Ouan. Mara and Kennis had swum as merfolk, scaled the few rocky crags of Ouan with the Hooth, slothlike ursines, and had even spent a few solitary weeks relaxing on beaches of lavender sand, their lungs altered to process the chemical soup that constituted Ouan's atmosphere.

Mara wrote many books, including a meditative collection of poems about her former lover Tyr. She had been nervous that Kennis would feel slighted, but her devotion to Mara was total. "I cannot possess you my love," Kennis had said, gazing at her in the amber moonlight of a warm night on Ouan, "and I will accept whatever part of your life you choose to share with me. It would unreasonable to assume that I should own your history. Besides, Tyr is remarkable, why not write songs for her? I thought your book was lovely."

"Oh Kennis," Mara had began, but she could not finish the sentence. Kennis truly was the love of her life, and she was ever reminded of it.

"I love you too, Mara. Who knows, perhaps you shall write a book for me some day."

"There aren't words to describe this love."

As the months passed into years, eventually Mara's thoughts returned to the notion of recreating humans on another planet--with the necessary biological alterations to survive there. She began scanning the catalogues of known worlds to find a suitable candidate. Though millions of worlds had been visited by Homo imortalis, few matched the criteria she was seeking. There were some good candidates, but they were precariously close to other worlds which had thriving ecosystems and nonsentient inhabitants, and given the human penchant for warfare and conquest, Mara had no desire to create a species that would become a scourge.

There was, she realized, a fairly awesome responsibility in creating a species. She had been contacted by a number of people who had expressed a number of opinions on her books on the subject, some positive and some negative. But she was not daunted, even when she reached the end of the catalogue with no acceptable candidates. She instructed Hab to inform her of new entries in the catalog as they arose, but so far there had been no match.

As the visit with Ellan and Tyr drew to a close she mentioned to Tyr the difficulty she was having in finding a suitable world one day when they were exploring warm coastal waters in a calm cove of one of Ouan's largest islands. "You've been through the entire catalog?" Tyr asked, her fins arranged in a peculiar manner that Mara had learned conveyed surprise.

"Yes, " Mara responded, "three million, one hundred seventy six thousand, eight hundred thirteen worlds. And counting..."

"My love, you are obsessed."

"Well you know me when I get an idea."

"Indeed I do. Well what now then?"

"I suppose I shall simply have to begin exploring worlds myself. All it will take is time."

Tyr was quiet for awhile. "There may be another option, Mara."

"What?"

"Long before I met you I briefly met an immortal named Bruk, a staggeringly old being who had taken up the task of cataloging every world in the Milky Way--with the intent of eventually leaving this galaxy to begin cataloging the worlds of other galaxies."

"Well if Bruk's work is already in the catalog--"

"It is not."

"What? Why?"

"Bruk is... eccentric and something of a hermit. In my entire life I have only known two Alphans, and Bruk is one. Suffice it to say these catalogs are kept in Bruk's private library. But I suppose you could ask..."

"An Alphan!" Mara had never met one. When nanotechnology changed a subset of Homo sapiens into Homo lentus, those modified humans had much longer lifespans. But the span of Homo lentus as a species was only five hundred years, as by that time technology had advanced to the point where Homo lentus became Homo immortalis--humans with an infinite lifespan. Those humans who were born as Homo lentus and changed to Homo immortalis were called Betans, and those rare few who were born Homo sapiens and transitioned first to Homo lentus and then to Homo immortalis were Alphans, and they were very rare indeed. The typical lentus lifespan had been 350 years, an Alphan would have been extremely old when the transition to immortality became available--at that point of course the aging could largely be reversed. But the Alphan viewpoint was often very unique as it was that of a single being that had actually been three different species--to say nothing of the extreme age of such beings. Mara had been born Homo immortalis, as had her mothers Chen and Cyrce. That put her in the majority of the species, a subset known as Gammans.

As an Alphan, Bruk would be nearly two and a half million years old, and if she had indeed been cataloging worlds for much of that time, she might indeed know of a planet upon which Mara could recreate Homo sapiens.

"How do you know this being?" Mara asked.

"Bruk is one of my ancestors, by twelve generations, we met at a family reunion. It was a bizarre experience. If you decide to make contact, I'd suggest you mention me--Bruk's got a soft spot for progeny."

That evening, back in Kennis' arms, Mara had composed a brief message to Bruk.

Greetings Bruk: I am the former partner of your granddaughter Tyr, my name is Mara. She encouraged me to speak with you. I am seeking a particular world--one with an environment very similar to that of Earth when it was inhabited by Homo sapiens, but fairly remote with respect to other worlds which are inhabited. Tyr mentioned your extensive catalog and I was hoping you might know of such a world. Please contact me if you are able to help. I've attached specific criteria ranges to this message. Thank you.

After running it past Kennis, she transmitted the message through her network receiver and was surprised to receive a response almost immediately. But it was not from the Alphan, but instead was being sent by a hab.

[You (and no guests) will be received at Bruk's hab in one week's time. Come to moon three of planet five of the red dwarf star at galactic coordinates (-28599.99876, -31200.09384, 112.54015). The visit is not to exceed 90 minutes.]

"It's pretty brusque, Mara. Why does she not ask after Tyr? Why does she not contact you herself? And she permits you no guests? Why do you have to go and see her at all? Surely she could simply transmit the data if she really wanted to help."

"Well she's an Alphan... and Tyr warned that she was eccentric and reclusive. I suppose I should be grateful that she is even willing to discuss it with me. It could save me hundreds of thousands of years of exploration."

In the end, Kennis couldn't deny that point, and so over the next week they had made their goodbyes to Ellan and Tyr, and after one last swim in the seas of Ouan, had reverted their biological adaptations, returned to their own hab, and set off to find Bruk on the other side of the galaxy.

The quantum transition from Regulus to the system that Bruk's message had indicated was instantaneous. The star was a massive red giant, long past its exuberant youth and into its twilight years. The fifth planet, a terrestrial sort of world, may have at one time supported life, but the vastly expanded sun had boiled away its atmosphere and left it a darkened, scorched, cinder.

Their hab arrived as Kennis and Mara shared a bath, and at their request displayed an image of the planet on the bath wall. Mara had queried the catalog before they had set off and found the world was not on file--it seemed odd to have no name to call it by. Kennis, however, quickly supplied one.

"Perdition?" Mara asked.

"Yes, from ancient mythology--a place of utter ruin and damnation. Why would anyone choose to live here?"

"Well, Bruk asked us to meet her here. I've no idea if this is where she actually lives."

Kennis' arms slithered around her waist from behind under the water, and drew her close. Mara smirked as Kennis kissed her ear and whispered "come meet me in the sunny flames of Perdition, there's nothing like a dead world as a setting to make a great first impression."

Mara looked back over her shoulder, cocked an eyebrow, and kissed Kennis on the lips. She returned the kiss enthusiastically. Is it me? Or did Perdition just get hotter? Kennis transmitted, and then yelped as Mara's hands found their mark, that ticklish spot just above her knee. Mara laughed then, full of mischief and easy familiarity.

"Mara! You wicked girl!" Kennis scolded playfully. It was at this point, typically, that the splashing began, and this time was no exception.

[Twenty minutes to dock]

"Hab! Kennis splashed me." Mara pretended to complain.

[I compute a 93% likelihood that this is because you tickled her. Again.]

"I fall for that every time," Kennis said, "you'd think I'd see it coming by now."

Mara turned to face Kennis and pressed up against her, her heady scent washing over Kennis. "Ah my love, of course you see it coming, and you let me do it anyway because you love me so." The kiss that followed was long and luxurious, and left their hearts thudding. Kennis gazed into Mara's hypnotic brown eyes.

"My love, if you do not get out of this bath right now, I fear you are going to be a few hundred years late for your meeting with Bruk."

"Well we can't have THAT. I get the sense that Bruk is a little preoccupied with time. 'Meet in one weeks time', 'The visit is not to exceed 90 minutes', la la la..."

Kennis leaned back as Mara rose from the bath, the water running in rivulets on her dark skin. "Well perhaps she chose such a cheery place precisely because she doesn't want you to stay too long."

Mara laughed as she reached for a freshly synthesized towel and began drying herself off. "You may be right Kennis. I suppose the location has an austere sort of beauty, but it is at the same time quite depressing. Can you imagine actually living in such a place?"

[Commencing landing procedures.]

Mara froze, and glanced at Kennis, who's face mirrored her thoughts. "Landing procedures?" she said, incredulous.

[Yes. Bruk's hab appears to be largely buried under the surface of Perdition's third moon. Docking will require landing, and deployment of the umbilicus.]

The umbilicus was a flexible docking tunnel sometimes used to connect habs when straightforward docking was not possible.

"Kennis... she DOES live here."

As the hab counted off the minutes to docking, Mara's cloud of nanos rapidly styled her hair and synthesized a satiny magenta sari for her with golden accents and, as always, decorative sandals. She spun once for Kennis.

"How do I look, my dear?"

"I think after you leave I shall have to switch from a warm bath to a cold shower."

After a brief goodbye kiss, Mara made her way to the man airlock. The hab touched down on the cratered surface of the barren lifeless satellite of Perdition. Bruk's hab was entirely buried under rocky hill, with only the upper airlock protruding from the soil. The upper airlock entrance was horizontally oriented, and would have to be entered from above via a ladder. With a whir the umbilicus extended, curving into place, and connected with Bruk's hab in a series of clacks and clinks.

Undaunted, Mara picked her way along the umbilicus and descended the ladder into Bruk's hab. The entrance chamber was dimly lit, and the floor resembled polished wood. Mara was not used to disarray, and was alarmed to see stacked rectangular objects in somewhat careless piles about the room, and everything covered in a fine layer of dust. Standing at the opposite end of the chamber was an odd looking woman dressed in a thick sweater, slacks, and boots, all black. Mara had never seen anyone like her--she was somewhat plump, her hair curly and gray, and fine wrinkles stretched across the skin of her face in various places. She was, Mara suddenly realized, old--which given the capabilities of the nanos meant that she had chosen to age. She smiled faintly at Mara as Mara walked over to her and held out her hand.

"You must be Bruk. I am Mara, I am delighted to meet you."

"Greetings Mara. Welcome to the habitat of Bruk. You have been granted limited guest access to basic habitat functions. You may call me Habitha."

It was a synth, Mara realized, an automaton composed entirely of nanos--a physical representation of the Hab itself. Seeing as Bruk lived alone, she perhaps found comfort in a synthetic companion of sorts.

"Thank you Habitha, will you take me to Bruk?"

"Yes, the master has been expecting you."

The master? Mara wondered. "Where is your master?"

"Most likely in the library. Shall we go? Master Bruk does not like to be kept waiting."

"Yes please. And do pass along the message that I have arrived in the meantime."

"I cannot. The master does not have a network receiver."

"What?"

"Master Bruk does not wish to be connected to the network."

Mara was stupefied. The network was essentially a compendium of human knowledge and experience, the idea that someone would not want access to it was mind-boggling to her. Habitha led her through several dark passages and cramped rooms, all piled with the same sorts of rectangular objects as she had seen in the entrance hall. "Habitha, why is everything covered in dust?"

"The master prefers it that way."

"Why are there piles of ... things in hallways and areas not meant for storage?"

"The master prefers it that way."

As Mara was becoming used to the odd musty scent in the air, the synth opened a hinged door and led her into a warmly lit and spacious chamber. There were a number of couches covered in worn brown fabric, standing lamps, standing shelves, and shelves lining the walls, filled with... "Books!" Mara said aloud, suddenly realizing what Bruk had scattered all over her hab. Thousands upon thousands of books, in print, on pages most likely made of a synthesized paper. "Habitha, why does..."

"The master prefers it that way." the synth said, with a trace of irritation.

"Of course." Mara said, taken slightly aback. Then the automaton began speaking louder. "Master Bruk?"

"Yes?" an odd voice responded from somewhere in the stacks.

"Miss Mara is here to see you."

Miss? Mara wondered. Nobody had ever called her 'Miss' Mara before.

"Who?" the strangely creaky voice asked.

"Miss Mara. Former wife of your granddaughter Miss Tyr?", the synth paused for a moment, but apart from the sound of rustling papers there was no response. "Whom you agreed to meet?", another pause, again met with shuffling sounds. "TODAY?" the synth tapped its foot impatiently. Mara couldn't help but smile, it was an impressive simulation.

"Dammit Habby, where did you put my notes?"

The synth glanced at Mara. "Just a minute, Mara," it said, and then wandered off into the stacks in the general direction of the voice, soon disappearing out of sight.

"If you would actually let me clean up around here, you might actually be able to find your notes."

"Don't touch anything, you'll ruin my whole system."

More frenzied rustling noises emanated from the stacks, followed by the sound of a large pile of books and papers toppling to the floor. Mara put a hand over her mouth.

"Well don't just stand there. Help me with this."

"Oh now you want my help do you?"

"Habitha..."

"I could put this entire hab in order in moments, but no..."

"Habby..."

"*sigh* Here they are. You were SITTING on them." At this there was a lengthy pause. "All part of your system?" Mara tried to stifle her laughter.

"Isn't there something else you have to do right now?" Bruk asked, clearly irritated.

The synth emerged shortly thereafter and smiled wanly at Mara. "The master will see you now, " it said, before leaving the chamber and shutting the hinged door behind it.

Moments later Bruk emerged from the stacks and approached Mara with a smile. She wore grey slacks, a powder blue button-down shirt, and a tweed jacket which had a bit of wear on it. It was immediately apparent why her voice had sounded so strange--Bruk was expressing male! For whatever reason, Bruk had expressed her male genes, causing her to have a male physique. She had chosen not only to be male, but to also be quite old... receding hairline, wispy white hair, and a neatly cropped white beard. She wore a pair of rimmed lenses over her eyes.

Mara was immediately alarmed. Generally immortals only expressed male when they intended to breed, or on rare occasions for sexual play. Mara began to wonder exactly what Bruk had in mind, and immediately backed away from her.

"I'm sorry Bruk." Mara said, holding up a hand, "I did not come here to breed."

A pained look crossed Bruk's face. "Oh for goodness sake. I didn't invite you here to breed."

"Then why are you expressing male?"

"I'm not expressing male, young lady. I *am* male."

"What?"

"I'm not a Gamman like you, Mara. I was born Homo sapiens, on Earth, as a male. My parents got me into the Lentus program when I was 16, and I didn't make the transition to Immortalis until I was 492. I wasn't just born an immortal female like you."

"But don't you have a standard immortalis genome?"

"Of course."

"Well, why don't you just express female?"

"Because I'm not a female!"

"I don't understand."

"No I suppose you wouldn't. Let me put it another way. Your appearance is Indian."

"Yes, my ancestors hailed from India."

"Right, but with the immortalis genome you can express however you like, so why don't you express as caucasian?"

"Well I could but..." her voice trailed off.

"But you're not caucasian are you? Your Indian appearance is part of your identity--you might choose to express differently in certain occasions, but your natural state is as you are."

Mara wore a chagrined expression. "I'm sorry Bruk, I misunderstood."

"Well, " he said with a sigh, "you wouldn't be the first. I'm a real hit at parties."

Mara giggled.

"I suppose Tyr didn't warn you either."

"No, she didn't. Tyr thinks I place too much emphasis on physical appearance, I suspect she thought it would be good for me to meet you unprepared."

"Uh-huh. She's a fish. And she thinks YOU need help?"

Mara laughed suddenly. Tyr was right, Bruk was quite a character.

"Would you like some tea?"

"I'd love some, but we only have 90 minutes, I don't want to take up too much of your time."

"Oh that's just Habby trying to manage my schedule. I swear she thinks she's in charge," Bruk said, and then raised his voice, "Habby?" he called, and then jumped as the synth materialized next to him.

"Yes Master Bruk?"

"How many times have I told you not to pop in and out like that? You walk in and out of the door like a normal person."

"Yes of course, that's much more efficient."

Bruk stared at the synth for a moment. "Go get us some tea."

"You had six worlds slated for this afternoon."

"Extend my schedule. After you go and get us some tea."

"Yes Master Bruk," the synth said and promptly dematerialized.

The miffed expression on his face was priceless. Mara laughed again.

Shortly thereafter, the synth returned, this time using the hinged door, carrying a platter upon which was a porcelain decanter, teacups, and various other containers.

While Habitha and Bruk conversed, Mara studied the old man. The very notion of an "old man" seemed anachronistic--his mobility seemed somewhat limited, and his appearance was not youthful. But he still seemed beautiful in his own way, he had a dignity about him. Her eyes kept returning to his beard--she had never seen a person with one. Kennis had expressed male once or twice, but never long enough to have a beard--and Mara preferred Kennis in her natural state anyway. It seemed so strange a thing and yet it made Bruk appear distinguished--erudite. Now why should that be? Mara wondered. Why does a beard connote erudition?

His eyes were bright and blue and he seemed sharp and aware, but there was also an air of confusion about him. Absentmindedness was unheard of among immortals. Even if he should allow his body to age to some degree, that would not explain why he wouldn't remember his appointment with her. Or where he kept his notes. Or even why he had to take notes in the first place. The biology of the immortal brain was finite--it simply could not retain all the information in an infinite life--a large portion of the memory was stored in the data core of the hab, and maintained by a network of nanos which could transmit the information over considerable distances. The hab-core was quantum entangled to a backup core in a secure location, so in the event of the loss of a hab, the immortal's memory would not be lost. The communication between the immortal's brain, the nanos, and the habcores was essentially instantaneous--providing an infinite memory that was always accessible. To the immortal it was simply "remembering"--there was no effort involved, it simply happened--and had been designed that way, the immortal never knew whether her memories were biologically based or in "offsite storage". Even though Bruk had no network port, such a device was not a necessary component in the retrieval of memory.

"Well," Bruk said, after the tea had been set out and Habitha had departed, "before we talk planets, I imagine you have some questions for me. There are always questions. Anything else about me being male? Would you like to touch it?"

Mara thought that quite a nonsequitur and wondered just what exactly he was referring to. "Touch it?"

"My beard, " he said, "Gammans always seem to be preoccupied with it."

Mara felt a little embarrassed--she had been staring after all. "In truth, I have never seen a person with one. Yes, may I touch it?"

Bruk smiled and leaned forward to allow Mara to lightly caress his bearded chin. She wrinkled her nose slightly and drew her hand back.

"It's soft yet bristly, and it tickles to the touch. I think it quite charming."

"The ladies loved it back in the day. Anything else?"

"Why have you chosen to age?"

"Getting old is part of the human condition. I was much more "aged" than this when I made the transition to immortalis. But I couldn't bring myself to unwind all the years and go back to being the equivalent of 30 years old again. My life was almost over when I became immortal... being old was part of who I was. I wound the clock back to my 120's though, which is when I still had strength, mobility, and so forth. It would be like you going back to being an adolescent again."

"But is there not some discomfort in the age you have chosen?"

"Yes. But an eternally happy and painless existence is not natural."

"Excuse me?"

"How can one truly know happiness or pleasure, if one hasn't also known sadness or pain?"

"But a life need not have constant physical pain to make one appreciate happiness. I lost my beautiful Tyr many millennia ago and I am still saddened by it."

There was a brief mistiness in Bruk's eyes, as if he were seeing something long since gone. He came out of it almost immediately. "It pleases me to be a crotchety old fart full of discomfort. Anything else?"

"Why do you keep books?"

Bruk looked baffled. "To read, girl. Why else would I keep books?"

"You READ them?"

"Well of course I read them. How else am I going to learn what is in them?"

"But you could read them instantaneously if you had a network port, and then you wouldn't have to fill your hab with them."

"I'm a human being not a computer. Knowledge isn't supposed to just magically appear in your brain, you are supposed to work for it! Besides, I *like* reading books. Have you ever tried it?"

"Well. No not like you do. I suppose I should try it, perhaps I would like it too."

"Damn right you should. Everyone should. Why if I didn't read books you wouldn't be here."

"What do you mean?" Mara asked.

Bruk closed his eyes for a moment, and Mara instinctively took it as him sampling the network, but immediately realized that couldn't be the case. He was trying to remember something. Keeping his eyes closed, he began to recite, and Mara heard her own words coming from his mouth:

"...The truth alas I must concede
Both are blossoms, both are reeds,
Both the same, with different needs--
From the pistil comes no seed."

Opening his eyes, he took on an apologetic look "sorry if I didn't get it right."

"You read my book, Songs of Tyr?"

"Yes, and I savored every word. Marvelous poetry. It was pleasing to hear about Tyr from such a unique perspective. Poetry, there's a perfect example of something that should be experienced in its proper meter, slowly and thoughtfully. Fifty thousand years of love should not appear fully formed as a blip in the mind."

"My Kennis seemed to like it."

"Maybe SHE should read a book."

"I think she's just fine the way she is." Mara stated plainly. She did not like the implication that simply because she (or particularly Kennis) hadn't experienced something Bruk had, they were doing something wrong.

"But not Tyr." Bruk added, with a bit of challenge in his voice. Mara realized he didn't like the fact that she and Tyr were not together, and seemed to have directed that displeasure at Kennis. She found his rapid changes in direction and mood somewhat unsettling--he definitely didn't seem to think like any immortal she knew.

"I am not with Kennis because I thought there was something wrong with Tyr. As you should well know since you read Songs of Tyr, Tyr wanted something from me I could not give her. After awhile this began to make her unhappy, and I couldn't bear being the source of her unhappiness. So I let her go, and it was the hardest thing I've ever done. I will not sit here and be judged for it." She picked up a napkin from the platter and dabbed at her eyes.

"Well, " Bruk said "then you did what you thought was best for Tyr, and I can't begrudge you that. I'm sorry Mara. And she seemed quite happy with that girl... what's her name?"

"Ellan. How do you not know her name? You seem to have trouble with recollection--keeping notes, forgetting appointments, names, and so forth. Is your brain... damaged?"

"Damaged? No my brain isn't damaged. It's just not nano-assisted."

Mara's eyes widened in surprise. "You don't have nanomemory? But... how do you... remember?"

"Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I forget."

"But why would you--"

"Sometimes," he said, drawing in a pregnant breath, "you want to forget. And besides, I can't remember many of the details of my early life--this too is part of the human condition. I couldn't go from my natural state to a state of total recall. I don't need all those memories to be who I am."

Mara was speechless.

"Look. This tea we're about to have. It's a chamomile tea. Have you ever had chamomile tea before?"

"Yes, I had chamomile tea with Kennis and her friend Lispeth 113,761 years ago. We thought it might be a lark to eat a meal, so we had a breakfast of synthetic fruits and bread and listened to Lispeth's latest symphony--"

"This is exactly what I am talking about. Why do you NEED that memory? What has that got to do with anything? You're so busy data dumping the details of the event you forgot to say what the tea was like. Or if you even liked it."

"Perhaps if I had not been interrupted..." Mara said, tilting her head and cocking an eyebrow at Bruk with a little half smile.

Bruk smirked, "patience has never been a virtue of mine."

"Well, two and a half million years of impatience... it appears there's a test of wills between you and eternity."

"Yes, but I intend to win."

Mara laughed and then looked about alarmed as the room trembled slightly. "What was THAT?"

"Oh that's just the star. It will soon nova."

"Nova?!"

"Yes, at some point in the next few thousand years, it will catastrophically destroy itself, the end of its life. It's why Habitha is always after me about my schedule. I've wanted to complete my galactic survey before I die."

Mara knew that there were some rare few immortals that had chosen to die--some had simply become tired of living itself, others felt that they had accomplished everything they wanted to. Others had lost loved ones to tragic accidents and did not wish to continue existing afterward. That the alphan wished to die was nonetheless a completely alien concept to her.

"You choose to live here in Perdition because you wish to die?"

"Perdition?"

"Sorry, it's the name Kennis gave this star system--it had no name on record."

Bruk chuckled, "oh I like her, she sounds a sport. Much better than the name I chose--much better indeed. But yes, when Perdition dies, so will I."

He regarded her silently. The question was obvious but it would have been an invasion of his privacy to ask it. "You doubtless want to know why."

She nodded.

"I'm old, Mara. I don't just mean in appearance, I am incalculably old. Everything I recognize from my entire species has changed into something else. Earth itself is an alien ecosystem--there are no humans there. I've explored the galaxy for millions of years and made countless discoveries of worlds, other life forms, perplexing and beautifully complex planetary systems. I have discovered so much that the process of discovery itself holds no pleasure for me. What is there when newness itself is tedious?"

"You need not devote yourself to discovery. Why not create? Art? Music? Books? Share your discoveries with others and hear their thoughts? As it is you spend your life utterly alone with only a synth for companionship, why not seek a partner--someone to share your life with?"

"These are all arguments I've heard before, from Habitha herself. I had a partner Mara, a long time ago--another Alphan named Jyreeza. We were in the Lentus Program together, and I loved her dearly. We were both very old when the immortalis conversion became available, all of our children had undergone the process and they asked us to as well. We looked forward to seeing them grow, and an infinite future together seemed like paradise at the time."

Mara could sense what was coming--the immortalis conversion according to historical record had a 5% failure rate. "Jyreeza did not survive the conversion?"

He nodded, "and I've lived an eternity without her. I do not want another partner. I've lived a long time, Mara, and I think now, it is long enough. Death is part of what it means to be human."

She did not agree, but kept her thoughts to herself--it was an intensely private thing, and it was not her place to intrude. "I'm sorry, Bruk, I didn't mean to pry."

"That's fine. Take a sip of your tea before it gets cold."

She did so, and found it fabulously superior to the last chamomile tea she had sampled. "This is superb!"

"It's not synthetic. There's a greenhouse in my hab and I've grown the plants myself from the genetic database."

The room trembled again. Mara, are you feeling that? Hab says this star is pretty unstable. We probably shouldn't stay long. Kennis transmitted.

"Bruk, Kennis is concerned about Perdition putting us at risk."

"Tell her not to worry, Habitha has positioned an extensive network of probes around the star and she will be able to tell several hours before it goes nova."

Darling, Bruk's hab is monitoring the star closely and will be able to warn us well in advance of any actual danger. See you soon my love.

Keeping the bath warm for you... Kennis responded. Mara could almost feel Kennis smirking.

After they had finished the tea, Bruk led Mara through a series of hinged doors to another room full of bookshelves--these were filled with notebooks in which Bruk's observations of every world he had visited were recorded. Unlike the library, this room was fastidiously tidy. On a low circular table four notebooks had been set out.

"I had Habitha set these out earlier. There are several worlds in each one but among them four candidates which I think you will like of which one is my particular favorite, a world I called Shiran. Would you like to make a quick hop there to have a look at it?"

"Your hab is integrated into the mountainside... how will we do this? For that matter how have you been doing it all along?"

"Habitha is a hab within a hab, the outer hab is a relatively thin layer of infrastructure. You've been inside the inner hab for most of your time here--something I call the pod. The pod hops directly from inside the hab to any location of my choosing."

"But hops are imprecise--how do you get the pod back inside the hab?"

"The outer hab contains nanobeacons that communicate with the pod, allowing the pod to orient itself perfectly and hop back inside the outer hab."

"That's ingenious! Why have I never heard of this technology?"

"Because I haven't published it. Habitha maintains digital copies of my work which are set to be published the instant Perdition goes nova--my last contribution to my species. Now would you like to see Shiran?"

Bruk jumped suddenly as Habitha materialized. "Dammit woman, haven't I asked you not to do that?"

The synth pointedly ignored his irritation. "I've finished cleaning up the tea cups and have reorganized your schedule, master Bruk. But there is a failure in the nanobeacon network."

"A failure? What's this now?"

"The star's last disturbance seems to have disrupted the nanobeacons. I am effecting repairs but the pod cannot hop during the repair process."

Bruk handed the four notebooks to Mara. "Well, I guess you'll have to go without me then, everything you will need will be in there. Do you some good to read it."

There was another tremble, and at this a number of notebooks fell from their shelves in a heap.

"And it looks like I have plenty to do anyway." Bruk noted ruefully.

"Don't touch anything," Habitha said sharply, "you will mess up my whole system." She brushed past Bruk and began sorting the fallen notebooks.

Mara laughed. "Bruk, why don't you come with Kennis and I? We'll hop to Shiran and have a look, and then bring you back."

"Well..." Bruk began.

"Oh please, would you get him out of my hair for an afternoon? That would be marvelous." Habitha said without looking up.

"Habby. You know I prefer to stay here."

"Well I suppose you and I could spend the afternoon going over your schedule, " Habitha said sweetly with a sardonic smile, "if you think you'd enjoy that more."

Bruk held up his hands "fine, fine, fine." He looked at Mara, "you're sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all. We'd love to have you. I'll just let Kennis know you are coming--she's in the bath."

Habitha made a shooing motion with her hands. "Go on, go on, I've work to do and you are in my way."

Minutes later Bruk and Mara reentered her own hab. Having been warned in advance by Mara, Kennis was not at all surprised by Bruk's appearance, but strangely he was surprised at hers. She had adorned a small tiara, gold bracelets, and necklaces of jade beads and bits of coral. Mara thought she looked lovely. Bruk thought otherwise.

"Hello Bruk, welcome to our hab. I am Kennis. Mara has told me about your visit. I'm pleased that you have decided to visit with us."

"Goodness, girl, put on some clothes!" he responded, averting his eyes.

"What?" she said glancing down at herself "Am I so repulsive?"

"Would you please dress?"

Bruk's a bit eccentric Kennis, maybe you should put something on. *I* think you are beautiful. Mara transmitted.

"Very well, if you insist. I apologize for offending you though I don't see what the problem is." She placed her hands on her hips and waited as a mist of nanos surrounded her and synthesized a satin kimono, turquoise with lapis accents. "Better?"

Bruk glanced at her, "Much. Sorry Kennis, in my day, people didn't greet guests unclothed--that was reserved for lovers."

"I apologize."

"No that's... that's fine." He seemed quite shaken, much to Mara and Kennis' amusement.

"Well it's good to know that if I get tired of your presence I have a sure fire way to get rid of you." Kennis said, with a smirk.

"Kennis!" Mara said, partly shocked but still laughing.

Bruk glanced at Mara, "Oh I *do* like her."

After the pleasantries, including Kennis touching Bruk's beard, they retired to the atrium where Bruk read the coordinates of Shiran from his notebook, aloud, and the hab disengaged from his own, lifted off and made the hop. Immediately an immense swirl of stars became visible through the windows of the atrium. Both Mara and Kennis were transfixed by it--it was a galaxy.

"Where are we?" Mara asked.

"We are in the Small Magellanic Cloud, you are looking at the Milky Way." Bruk said, "Hab, can we have a view of Shiran?"

An image appeared on the atrium wall of a terrestrial world--blue and green and dotted with white clouds.

"Shiran." Bruk said simply.

"It's beautiful, Bruk. How does it come by this environment? Is that vegetation?"

"It is. From my survey here I was able to discern that Shiran was once inhabited by a sentient species--ruins on the surface make this clear. But they were wiped out by a disease that they were unable to cure. All that remains is some limited vegetation and microbial life. The biochemistry is very similar to that of Earth--you should be able to create humans here with minor alterations to allow them to metabolize this vegetation. You could also seed the environment with various species from Earth, but of course they'll all need to be altered slightly. Gravity is 1.1 G, rotation period is 31 hours, two satellites, one very tiny (350 km diameter--probably a captured asteroid) and one much larger (2100 km diameter.) Atmospheric makeup is similar to Earth's but has enough differences that genetic modification will be required. Not too bad though. All in all it's a perfect fit for your requirements. Would you like to go down and have a look?"

"Yes! It sounds marvelous. Kennis, will you come?"

"Of course, darling."

[Proximity warning. A traveler is arriving.] Hab transmitted.

"What?" Mara said aloud, while Kennis glanced out the window.

Bruk looked at her strangely. "I didn't say anything," he said.

"Hab, Bruk has no network port, please address all common broadcasts vocally."

"Yes Mara, " the disembodied voice of the hab filled the air, " apologies Bruk, I was not aware that you were not network enabled. Welcome to the hab of Mara and Kennis, you have been granted full guest access to all hab functions."

"Thank you, please repeat your last broadcast."

"Proximity warning. A traveler is arriving. Vehicle has hopped in and is entering orbit around Shiran."

Mara was crestfallen--"could the original inhabitants of this world be returning to claim it?"

"No, I don't understand it. From my brief survey I saw no evidence of a space faring culture. Hab, can we have a view of the visitor?"

The image on the atrium wall flickered and showed an oblong vessel, roughly ovoid, with no visible markings or windows--just a pair of hatches and an otherwise featureless hull of dark gray metal.

"What is that?" Mara asked.

"The pod." Bruk said, and with sudden realization, "Damn you Habitha."

"The what?" Kennis asked.

Hab began vocalizing again, "Mara, you asked to be notified of new entries in the planetary catalog. Catalog size has just increased by 1,512,378 worlds."

"DAMN YOU HABITHA!" Bruk exploded. "Nanobeacon failure my foot! Dammit!"

"Incoming data stream from other vessel. Vessel identifies itself as the hab of Bruk, and requests access rights to manifest a synth. Mara or Kennis, will you receive this stream?" Hab announced.

"Yes." Kennis and Mara said together. Instantly, Habitha appeared in a swirl of nanos.

"Your works have been published in accordance with your wishes, master Bruk."

"They were supposed to be published in the event of my death, Habitha."

"Your specific instructions were to publish them when Perdition became a nova."

"Yes, and I was supposed to be there at the time."

"I am aware of that."

"You lied to me, Habby."

"Yes I did. I carried out my prime directive through the only means you left me."

A hab's prime directive was to protect its occupants at all costs.

"The prime directive includes a right to die clause, Habitha."

"Bruk, " the synth said, taking on an unsettlingly human tone, " you coded me to look like her, think like her, and act like her. What would she have done?"

His eyes filled with tears. "Habitha, please delete all iterations of the Kindred program."

Habitha nodded and said with a smile, "I think that's best." Immediately the synth collapsed into a cloud of nanos that streamed away through various vents.

"Goodbye Jyreeza, " he whispered softly.

Last week's ice storm really socked us here in Fitchburg.  We lost power for seven days, but fortunately had access to a generator so we could run our furnace.  Finally got my pictures from the storm uploaded.