“Don’t get your skivvies tied in knots. She had to strip you naked to put you in the full body scanner. If you want to see your tumor, the machine captured a high resolution pic. It’s a solid piece of medical tech, better than anything we have on Earth, I think.”

  “I don’t want to see the tumor, I want to get rid of it.”

  “Alter said she knows a place where there might be someone who can help.”

  “Really?” I said, all thoughts of embarrassment at having Alter see me naked forgotten by the next bit of good news.

  “Yeah. One problem.”

  “Let me guess, it’s going to cost.”

  He nodded. “According to the scanner, the primary tumor needs surgical removal. Once it’s out, apparently they can give you some kind of nanobot injection that will hunt down and destroy any wayward cancerous cells.”

  “But I can be cured?”

  “Alter seemed to think so. But I think we should keep our expectations low, I mean—”

  “Wooohooo!” I shouted, too excited by the potential to keep my expectations low. “Matt, this is unbelievable! For everything that’s happened already, just that possibility makes it all worth it.”

  Matt couldn’t hold back his grin. “Seeing you so happy, it does.”

  “I’m more than happy, man. This is beyond unreal.”

  He put up his hands. “Just hold up a tiny bit. For one thing, the surgery is incredibly complex. That’s why Alter thinks there may only be one dude out there who might be able to do it in a system with trillions of ILFs. For another, remember the money part?”

  I forced myself back to center, fighting to contain my elation. He was right. There were still some serious problems to deal with. This was far from a sure thing.

  But any hope was better than no hope.

  “Right. What’s an ILF?”

  “Intelligent life form. I thought you were a geek?”

  “I know you’re a jerk. So we’ve given up on going back to Earth?”

  “For now. Let’s try to get you better, and then we’ll see what happens.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Let’s try to get you some clothes and a shower first.”

  “Also sounds good to me.”

  “This way,” Matt said, leading me downstairs, around the corner and into the center door on the right. It was smaller than the other rooms, and empty, with just enough space to stand in front of the back wall, the surface rough with rust and corrosion.

  “Are you sure this isn’t an empty closet?” I asked.

  Matt tapped on the wall. “Assembler H013, initialize the warm up sequence,” he said.

  “Warmup sequence initiated,” a synthesized voice replied.

  “By the way,” Matt said. “I added a trigger word for the ship’s voice control.”

  “You did? What’s the trigger word?”

  “Levi.”

  “Seriously? My never-to-be girlfriend on Earth?”

  “Something to remember her by. I thought you would like it.”

  “Levi. It’s not bad, actually. And this is Assembler H013?”

  “Yes.”

  I laughed. “That’s a joke, right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Assembler H013. Try shortening it.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “I’m not going to help you. Ask Alter. Maybe she gets it.”

  “Warmup sequence completed,” the assembler said. “What can I make for you today, Matt?”

  Matt stepped away from me. “Scan non-Matt human, file in your datastore under Ben.”

  “Okay. Prepare for scanning, Ben.”

  I didn’t really know how to prepare for scanning, so I just remained in place. A trio of green lasers appeared at the top of the wall, creating a triangle that slowly descended over me. I closed my eyes when it hit my face, and then watched as it finished the scan.

  “Scan complete. Model constructed,” the assembler said. “What can I make for you today, Ben?”

  I needed clothes, but I had no idea what kind. I had never cared much for fashion or shopping. Mom still bought most of my stuff when the older duds got too worn or filled with holes.

  “A black cotton t-shirt,” I said. “A black hoodie. Blue jeans with rips at the knees. A pair of socks. Some boxers. Converse All-stars, size ten.”

  “Converse All-stars are not in my datastore.”

  I was surprised the other things were. “Just make me whatever passes as military grade boots for now, I guess. Size ten.”

  “Size is irrelevant. I will make your boots to fit the specific shape of your foot.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “You are welcome.”

  I couldn’t see what the assembler was actually doing, but it started to hum and rumble and whine, serious things happening behind the scenes.

  “How long will it take?” I asked.

  “Not long,” Matt said.

  The front of the wall slid open a minute later, revealing a large compartment where my starter list of clothing had been thrown in a disorganized pile.

  “Assembly complete,” the machine said. “What else can I make for you today?”

  I leaned into the compartment, scooping up the clothes, amazed by their production and amused by the way they had been spat out onto the deck. I started to laugh.

  “What’s funny?” Matt asked.

  “I can’t help imagining an army of Tinkerbells chained up behind the wall, frantically cutting and stitching to make this stuff.”

  Matt laughed with me. “Alter tried to explain it to me. Something about molecular recombination and atomic destructuring and quantum something or other.” He shrugged. “Who cares? It works. That’s good enough for me.”

  “Where’s the bathroom?” I asked, cradling the pile of clothes. “I mean, the head?”

  “The door on the left next to the elevator. All of the unsecured hatches should open and close automatically. I’m going to stay here and make something to wear, and then I’ll be in the kitchen. It’s the door right next to this one. Now get out of here. You stink.”

  “Thanks for helping get me settled,” I said. “See you in a few.”

  “You got it, bro.”

  I left the assembler and headed back toward the head, a big grin still covering my face.

  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Matt was right about the downstairs head. It was as big as a bathroom in a suite at the Waldorf Astoria. Decked out in white marble and polished to a reflective shine, the fixtures were all gold-plated, and the toilet was one of those fancy Japanese jobs with the heated seat and built-in bidet. I wasn’t too sure about the shower. After stripping off my boxers and opening the opaque stall door, I was surprised to see there were no cleaning agents waiting inside.

  And no showerhead.

  Instead, a couple thousand pinprick holes lined every side of the shower including the door, offering the smallest hint of how the thing would clean me up. Instead of knobs or handles to turn on water and adjust the temperature, I found only a simple power button.

  It took me a few seconds to work up the nerve to press it. Not that I thought the thing would harm me; it was obviously some kind of advanced cleaning tech. But I had no idea what to expect from it, except that it had something to do with the holes.

  “Here goes nothing,” I said under my breath, tapping the button.

  My comment was right on the money. The power button activated the unit, indicating the shower had turned on. But nothing came out of the holes. No weird chemicals, steam, or combination thereof. No sound. No shockwaves. No vibrations. Not even nanobots, though maybe they would be too small to see.

  I stayed in place, hesitant to turn the thing off in case it needed a minute to warm up. It occurred to me I might have to throw my dirty boxers back on and go find Matt, since he had already used the shower in the master suite’s bath…uh, head. Unless that one was more traditional? If not, he had probably known about this encounter and chosen not to warn me.

  The seconds passed with no additional reaction from the shower, so I started counting alligators in my head, figuring when I got to thirty I would give up and get out. I had only reached five when I noticed the tingling sensation on my skin, an icy hot that started at the edges of my extremities and had worked its way across my body by the time I reached ten alligators. By fifteen, I was cradled in a freshly scented warmth I had never experienced before, every nerve ending tingling in zen comfort. Closing my eyes, I kept counting lest the inner silence ruin the moment.

  It was over way too soon. I didn’t even make thirty alligators before the power light shut off and the tingling immediately began to subside. My skin remained warm, and reaching up to my mop of curly brown hair, it felt softer than I could ever remember, as if I had just finished filming a shampoo commercial. My skin was equally soft, and wrapped in the same pleasant smell I had picked up on Matt.

  Nice.

  The temptation to run another wash cycle was hard to resist, but I opened the door and stepped out, picking up the fresh boxers the assembler, which I couldn’t stop thinking of as Asshole, had made and slid them on. The fit was perfect. Too perfect. Clearly, the machine’s scan had gone right through my clothes. The material wasn’t cotton, but rather some kind of advanced tech that put modern undergarment wicking materials to shame. Custom made undies. I’m lovin’ it.

  The black t-shirt was made of the same material and fit like a second skin over my lanky upper body, leaner than Matt’s and without the extra muscle to get in the way. The jeans were equally well fitted, though I lamented Asshole’s misunderstanding of what I meant by holes in the knees. Instead of designer tears, the openings were perfectly round circles over my kneecaps. What did I expect? The assembler didn’t even know what Converse All-stars were.

  I pulled on my socks before looking at the boots. Black, ankle high, and made from another material I couldn’t identify. It reminded me of rubber, but a lot softer and more pliable. The footwear didn’t have laces, only a small tab that looked like it could be pulled across the front. They also had a small button on the side. Having seen Alter in similar boots, I realized they were probably to magnetize the soles in zero-g.

  Putting them on, I pulled the tab across and connected it to the material on the other side. As soon as I did, the whole boot tightened around my foot, holding it snugly while remaining breathable. Taking a few steps, the fit and comfort was unbeatable.

  “I probably should have asked for something less Earthier,” I said, picking up the hoodie and slipping it on. At least it was clean, and I was clean. I felt good. Better than I had in months. The outset of this adventure had me crying for my mother and wishing I could go home. Seeing Matt unconscious and covered in puke had left me distraught.

  All of that was in the past. We had survived the initial trouble. We had made it someplace safe. Even better, there was a chance my tumor could be removed and I could be cured. All we had to do was raise some funds to pay for it.

  How hard could that be?

  I left the head to make my way to the kitchen. The elevator doors slid open beside me as I entered the hallway. I wasn’t even that surprised to see Alter looked different again, her nurse outfit exchanged for thick blue overalls, her hair cut short, her arms looking more muscular than I remembered them.

  What really took me off-guard was the clear plastic bag on the floor in front of her, and the helmetless dead soldier curled inside.

  “Uh…what are you doing?” I asked, staring at the soldier’s face. He reminded me of Duke Sedaya, with pointed ears and sharp, narrow features. Another space elf? Niflin, I recalled. I guess that was their natural look.

  “Bringing the casualties to the assembler,” she replied casually.

  “The assembler? Why?”

  “Raw materials. Where do you think that shirt you’re wearing came from?”

  “What?” I tugged at the collar of the shirt, glancing down at it before eying the soldier’s spacesuit. No wonder Asshole hadn’t given me cotton. It had made what it could with the molecules on hand. My stomach churned as I extended the concept further, my thoughts turning to the croissant. “Wait. Please don’t tell me the bacon—”

  “The assembler breaks everything down to raw particles,” Alter said. “Yes, the atoms came from the soldier. But they were completely reorganized.”

  “You should have warned me I was eating a Soylent Green burrito,” I wheezed, mouth moistening as my stomach threatened to kick back the breakfast.

  “It was a croissant, not a burrito. And I don’t know what Soylent Green is.”

  “People,” I cringed. “It’s made of people.”

  “Okay. Technically that’s true. But in reality, it’s more analogous to eating a cow that grazed on grass on top of a grave.”

  I shook my head, eyes watering. “That’s not helping.”

  “How about this, Ben,” Alter said. “We don’t have any other food stocked on board, and the assembler only had limited resources remaining. Thanks to Duke Sedaya, we were able to make you fresh clothes and feed all three of us for a month at zero cost. Considering we don’t have any money, I’d say we made out pretty well.”

  I swallowed the bile that came up before it got past my throat, refusing to puke for a third time in a day. She was right. We couldn’t exactly be picky about where we got our sustenance from right now. We were lucky to have anything at all.

  And the bacon had been crispy and delicious. And at least I had eaten food made of someone who tried to kill me.

  “Does Matt know about this?” I asked.

  “Not yet.”

  I smiled deviously. “I want to be the one to tell him.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Alter didn’t drag the body down the hallway. Instead, she turned to face the bulkhead immediately to the left of the elevator and tapped on it, revealing a hidden passage.

  “Maintenance,” she explained before I could ask. “It leads to the assembler’s inner workings.”

  “I’d like to see it,” I replied.

  “Trust me, right now you don’t. Feeding the assembler organic material isn’t pretty.”

  “Did you have to call it feeding?”

  She smiled. “This is the last one. I’ll drop him off, clean up, and meet you and Matt in the living room.”

  “Are you going to change your entire appearance again?”

  She tilted her head slightly. “What are you talking about?”

  “You keep changing your appearance. Even your hair gets longer and shorter. Unless you have a bunch of wigs?”

  Alter glared at me like I was insane. “Are you sure you feel okay? I can take you back to sickbay.”

  “No, I’m fine. I feel great. Nevermind. I’ll see you soon.”

  I waved curtly and retreated down the corridor. I could feel Alter’s eyes on my back for a second before I heard the thud as she dragged the Niflin corpse through the secret hatch and it slid closed behind her.

  Entering the kitchen, I found Matt sitting at a small table with a bouquet of fake sunflowers resting in a clear vase in the center. He was sipping a cup of coffee and tapping on Keep’s phone. His phone now. He glanced up at me.

  “I didn’t smell you coming. That’s a huge improvement.” His eyes dropped to the jeans and the holes in the knees. “You trying to become a trendsetter?” he asked, laughing.

  “The assembler didn’t understand what I wanted.”

  Matt glanced over at the clothes he had made, folded and stacked on the counter next to a slightly rusted round shutter that reminded me of a camera lens. An assortment of flatware sat in cupboards arranged around the shutter. “I think I need to go back and try again. I asked for rips too.”

  “Maybe if both of us do it, we can start a trend.”

  “With who? Alter? She seems to prefer baggier clothes and onesies.”

  “About Alter,” I said. “You have noticed how she keeps changing, right? I’m not crazy, am I?”

  “You aren’t crazy,” Matt confirmed, which relieved me more than I expected. “I asked her about it, and she acted like she had no idea she was any different.”

  “Yeah, I got that, too. What do you think about that?” I paused. “Where did you get the coffee?”

  “Grab a mug, and ask the assembler to make you some. The shutter will open and you can put the mug inside, and then it’ll close again. When it opens the second time, you’ll have a magic cup of joe.”

  “Seriously?”

  “It’s even cooler when you put a plate in and when it opens there’s a sandwich on it.”

  “What kind of sandwich did you have?” I asked mischievously.

  “Bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel,” he replied. “The assembler is pretty okay at bagels, all things considered.”

  The bacon part made me smile. It was mean-spirited, maybe. But I wanted to see his disgusted face when I told him where it came from. Thinking about it, the egg probably came from the same place.

  “I thought it was a little strange at first,” Matt continued, circling back to my question about Alter as I grabbed a mug. “It definitely confused me. Especially since her whole persona changes with the look. And then I was thinking about that movie with that guy who had split personality disorder.”

  “Split?”

  “Yeah, and the other one, what was it called?”

  “Glass.”

  “That’s it. James McAvoy. Great actor. I think it’s something like that.”

  “Asshole, I’d like a cup of coffee,” I said.

  “Asshole?” Matt replied. I turned to him and smirked, realizing I had used the wrong name. His expression shifted, the lightbulb switching on. “Oh. I get it. A-S-S-H-0-1-3. You’re such a dork. I can add the trigger to the system if you want to call it that.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good habit for me to get into. Assembler, I’d like a cup of coffee.”

  “Mmm,” Assembler replied through a hidden speaker next to the shutter. “Coffee. Delicious.”

  The shutter rotated open, revealing a compartment large enough to fit two plates side-by-side. I put the mug in, withdrawing my hand before the shutter closed.