Dax had arrived in the star system four days ago. The system had two stars, three gas giants and ten moons. It housed forty-three percent of the Spacer Third Fleet. Most of those were home ships: massive, square vessels holding Spacer families, factories and food-processing plants.

  Spacers did not colonize planets or moons, but lived aboard starships their entire lives if they could. They were a nomadic culture composed of fleets. In this instance, a fleet was akin to a nation or world, or even a group of worlds. The combined fleets were the Spacer Nation. Some fleets were legendary. Some had been lost in the mists of time. Some fleets had split like a colony of bees, each following its own queen.

  In these instances, a fleet had its high visionary, always a matriarch and usually one who possessed psionic abilities of some kind.

  Dax knew these things about the Spacers and the Third Fleet. He was an impressive and important LSIS agent, one with a superior service record and with a direct link to Loggia. That allowed Dax an independent posting, which meant he had no overseer in LSIS but reported directly to Grand Strategist Enigmach.

  However, Dax did have LSIS personnel under him.

  At the moment, Dax walked with the High Visionary Zenya. She was an old crone, a little less than five feet tall. She had a dark, wrinkled face like a raisin and wore a billowing robe. She wore a blue turban, had piercing dark eyes and used a cane so she could hobble along the corridors. Following behind were Spacer fighting clones in tightfitting garments and carrying blasters. Each clone wore black-tinted goggles, as did Zenya.

  There was no accompanying cyborg trooper in evidence for the Leviathan representative.

  Dax had forgone that in the interest of convincing High Visionary Zenya to the plan. The troopers terrified humans, and for good reason. Cyborg troopers were among the deadliest combatants in existence. Almost all humans found them unnerving.

  Dax towered over Zenya, as he was of a height with the fighting clones. He did not have their bulk or full sets of hair, although Dax was much heavier and considerably stronger than any of them.

  Dax, a cyber, wore scarlet garments and boots. He was lean and made the slightest hissing, mechanical noises as his limbs moved. There were metal pieces to his face, including a metal nose, as the fleshly one had been burned away years ago. The eye sockets were black plastic and the eyeballs stainless steel with tiny red ports or pupils.

  His brain and several other organs were completely biological. That did not include the heart and kidneys. He also had several cyber organs, one of which secreted various drugs that could heighten his intelligence, quicken his reflexes, and alter his time sense.

  Dax possessed a senso-mask, which he would put on if he were attempting to integrate with unsuspecting humans. This was not such a moment.

  Dax had undergone various Leviathan and LSIS mental regimens. He had greater use of his brain than most and amplified ambitions. Grand Strategist Enigmach had altered those ambitions. In most LSIS operatives, the motivations propelled him in the greater service of Leviathan, dying if necessary for the greater good of the Sovereign Hierarchy. Enigmach had nudged that so Dax wanted greater good for himself. Thus, Dax worked tirelessly to increase his status by succeeding at everything he did.

  Enigmach had a belief concerning that, and Senior Dax was one of his prized test subjects concerning the matter.

  “If you would care to examine the possibilities,” Zenya said in her hoarse whisper.

  “I would appreciate that.” Dax’s voice had a robotic quality, although there were slight alterations in pitch if one listened closely enough. When he wore a senso-mask, he had an artificial larynx set on his throat to change that.

  Zenya raised a shaking arm and pointed down a new corridor.

  The group turned that way, Zenya thumping her cane and tottering. She wheezed the entire time, a rather ghastly performance.

  “Would you not rather use a sedan chair?” asked Dax.

  “No, no,” Zenya wheezed, “I can walk just fine. Thank you for asking.”

  Dax filed that away, wondering what the old bitch was trying to prove. He noticed her side-glance. It didn’t bother him much although Dax was aware she analyzed him. He even understood that she had a psionic gift in that regard. Did such a gift work against a cyber? He suspected it might, as his brain was biological. The drugs altering his brain might change some of that, however.

  A double hatch opened as Zenya led them into a large chamber. It proved to be a small theater with cushioned seats.

  “We’ll use the front row,” Zenya said.

  The crone hobbled there and chose the middle seat, crashing back into it.

  Dax sat beside her, servos whining softly. He noticed that she held the cane in her lap so the end aimed at him.

  One of his pupils dilated as he analyzed that. The cane functioned as a weapon, specifically a beam weapon. Would she dare to burn him down as they sat together? He would likely resist such an assault long enough to kill everyone in the chamber. He could kill with his artificial hands and feet, not even using his inbuilt weaponry.

  “Show us,” Zenya whispered.

  A curtain rose on the stage. Five female beauties dressed in scanty attire stood at attention. They were ranged from shortest to tallest. Several had dark hair, one blonde and the other brunette. None was of Spacer origin.

  Dax understood that part, as almost all Spacers were of Earth South East Asian origin.

  “Given your specifications, these are the best operatives for the mission.” Zenya snapped her fingers.

  One of the fighting clones approached Dax, handing him a tablet.

  Dax accepted it and began to scroll and read the service records of each woman. He stopped at the one named Venna McGrath. Those in Star Watch and the Throne World knew her as Venna the Spy. She had the longest list of achievements. One of them included a stint on the Library Planet. She had captured the Emperor of the New Men there, bringing him to the Supreme Intelligence before escaping in a dramatic fashion.

  Dax showed the tablet to Zenya, pointing to the name.

  “Venna is my oldest agent,” Zenya said.

  Dax looked at the tallest woman on the stage. That was Venna McGrath and was without a doubt the most beautiful and alluring of the five. She was curvaceous and—

  The pupils in Dax’s metal orbs dilated. He no longer possessed sex organs, having lost them on a mission fifteen years ago. That had been the most harrowing of his missions. It was after that that Grand Strategist Enigmach had made Dax the private offer and altered his ambitions.

  Despite Dax’s lack of sex organs, something about Venna McGrath stirred him.

  Each of the females was in a semi-hypnotic state, not quite aware of what transpired. Yet, the way Venna presented herself, the slight tilt of a hip—

  “Are you enhancing Venna’s sex appeal?” Dax asked in his robotic voice.

  Zenya gave him the barest side-glance. “What do you observe?”

  “No,” Dax said. “I asked a question. I prefer an answer rather than some weird subtly given as a question.”

  Zenya nodded. “Venna is the most sexual and sensual of the candidates. She is also the oldest by a considerable margin.”

  “I notice that none on stage is Spacer born,” Dax said.

  “Of course not,” Zenya said, as if insulted.

  “Is that because Spacers are not as beautiful as others?”

  Zenya glared at him. That was evident despite her black-tinted goggles. “That is a racial slur. I demand you retract it.”

  “I retract nothing as it was a question, nothing more.”

  “You have offended me. None is as beautiful as Spacer females. That is clearly true.”

  “Your so-called offense is mere subterfuge,” Dax said. “I will not let it sway me. Besides, it is all beside the point. None of the beauties up there is a Spacer. Is there a reason for that?”

  Zenya stared at him. “There is a reason,” she said finally. “We prefer to use others in these matters.”

  Dax nodded. “I perceive your point. Am I correct in thinking that you prefer to use hypnotic inducements in your agents rather than trusting in their judgment?”

  “That is so.”

  “Is this always the case?” asked Dax.

  “We have found it to be the wiser method,” Zenya said.

  “Yet, according to Venna’s record, she trained other Intelligence operatives not so long ago.”

  “Yes. I had thought to retire her from active service. Venna is highly trained and superior in every way. She also has a gift in training others. This mission, however, is of supreme importance. And this irregularity of the crystals troubles me.”

  “Do you say this because of your hypnotic methods?” asked Dax.

  Zenya fully faced him. “I do foresee possible problems. What do you think?”

  “The hypnotism you routinely employ might create a situation at the wrong moment,” Dax admitted.

  “Do believe enough of a problem so we should change our method this time?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Dax said. “If you compensate for the hypnotism, that should prove enough.”

  “Compensate in what manner?” asked Zenya.

  “Well… Do you believe Venna has enough motivation to see the mission through no matter what happens to her?”

  “We give her the motivation.”

  “I understand,” Dax said. “I mean if she were to break the hypnotic conditioning?”

  Zenya became thoughtful. “The actual Venna hates the New Men, as she has good reason for that. This mission is against Star Watch… For those reasons, I wouldn’t want her to break her conditioning.”

  “Tell me about the other candidates.”

  Zenya did so in detail.

  At last, Dax contemplated the choices. He studied the females, his gaze lingering on Venna.

  “Her,” he said at last. “Venna McGrath is the one.”

  Zenya was quiet for a time with her brows furrowed.

  Dax wondered if the High Visionary used her psionic talents on him, to see if she could understand his reasoning better.

  “I agree,” Zenya said at last.

  “I would like to be kept abreast of her training. I will also have to instruct her in the use of the crystals.”

  “Yes,” Zenya said.

  It was at that point Senior Dax began to believe that his highly secret personal plan, one apart from Enigmach’s instructions, had a chance of succeeding.

  -3-

  Surprisingly, Dax was privy to the Spacer Third Fleet Intelligence methods in preparing Venna McGrath. He wondered about that.

  After a day of prep work, operatives readied Venna for the main motivational infusion. A Spacer adept used deep hypnotics to place Venna in a trance state. Female operatives then removed her garments. Afterward, they attached adhesive pads to her skin and carefully inserted wires that pierced her optic nerves. Another settled a breathing mask over her mouth and nose. Then, they placed a naked Venna in a tank of pale blue liquid.

  She floated on the surface with the various wires attached to her. After several electronic pulses, Venna sank until she floated submerged in the middle of the tank.

  A team of operators sat at banks of panels and monitors. The main adept placed an induction helmet over her head. The helmet completely covered her head and face. An antenna on top sparked with power.

  “You are thorough,” Dax said to no one in particular.

  “If you will watch the main screen, sir,” a second adept told Dax.

  Dax glanced at the small Spacer. She wore black-tinted goggles and had a buzz cut on her round head. She also had various circuits hidden inside her. He could sense them. Did those circuits make her a cyber? The thought amused Dax.

  A moment later, the tall cyber shifted his stance as he watched the main screen.

  Now began a lengthy question and answer process. The adept with the induction helmet asked Venna a blizzard of questions. The spy answered with mumbles from within her breathing mask. A printout of both sets of words appeared on the main screen.

  From this, Dax learned a little more about Venna’s childhood and teenage years. She had been born on the first continent on the planet Thebes, which was in the Franco System, the Third Quadrant of the Commonwealth. The New Men had conquered it years ago and kidnapped tens of thousands of females, a teenage Venna McGrath among them. This had been during the counterattack by Star Watch’s Fifth Fleet under Admiral Fletcher when Maddox had assisted.

  Later, a highly ranked New Man had chosen Venna for inclusion in his harem.

  Venna was one of those lucky few to have escaped New Men captivity. This was three years after entering the harem. The escape was a harrowing tale that involved courageous acts by Star Watch personnel. A pair of Spacer saucer-ships had hijacked the hauler taking freed captives back to the Commonwealth. The captives had soon found themselves as part of the Spacer Third Fleet. The prettiest and smartest had been inducted into the Spacer Intelligence Service, Venna the best of them.

  A sharp line of inquiry from the adept now caused Venna to thrash and jerk in the tank.

  The adept wearing the induction helmet spoke a litany of words.

  Venna thrashed even more.

  You must relax, Venna. You are among friends, remember?

  Dax read the adept’s words on the main screen. He’d been doing that for some time.

  I want to go home.

  Dax read those words as well. They were Venna’s reply to the adept.

  Sphinx, ten, cloudy day, saints, go to sleep.

  Venna ceased thrashing in the tank as her shoulders slumped and her masked head fell forward. Behind the mask’s glass, her eyes closed.

  The adept with the induction helmet shifted in her chair.

  Wake up.

  The body in the tank stiffened. The eyes flashed open.

  Can you hear me, Venna?

  Yes.

  Tell me about the time at Pharos 4.

  I infiltrated a prostitute ring run by a crime syndicate in the spaceport of Cheops. The crime lord was an operative from the Throne World’s secret service. I became the number one woman until Lord Mao arrived. He was a Throne World agent running a clandestine money laundering operation on Vega. I drugged him during our lovemaking session and began to load him into a waiting air car. His New Men protection team arrived, firing at us. I lost an arm during the escape.

  From the air car, you brought Lord Mao to a waiting saucer-ship in the stratosphere.

  The arm regrow didn’t take right. They had to amputate it and regrow another. That took a full year and a half.

  Your new arm has worked well ever since.

  I want to go home.

  Skip to age 34.

  Venna spoke, her words on the screen: Did you know that during winter, the grass is green back home on Thebes? My betrothed will be hunting horses in the high ranges. I plan to give him a surprise visit.

  Plaster, tango, six, honeycomb—skip to age 34.

  Once more, Venna’s words appeared on the screen: The hawks in the high ranges are spectacular. My father used to take me hawking. My betrothed will likely do the same.

  Sphinx, ten, cloudy day, saints, go to sleep.

  Once more, Venna’s shoulders slumped in the tank as her head moved forward and her eyes closed.

  The adept took off the induction helmet, blinking bloodshot eyes and massaging her forehead.

  “What is the problem?”

  Dax and the adept, everyone but for Venna, looked up at a walkway. The High Visionary watched from the balcony there. Zenya had asked the question.

  “Venna is resisting the process,” the adept said, who slid on a pair of black-tinted goggles.

  “Do you know why?” Zenya asked.

  The adept nodded.

  “Well?” asked Zenya. “Tell me. I don’t care for your posturing.”

  “Venna sustains a deep moral wound, refusing to part with it,” the adept said.

  “Is it the same wound as before?” asked Zenya.

  “We’ve overlaid and thus suppressed that moral wound,” the adept said, sidestepping the question. “But it hasn’t taken. This is unwarranted due to her stubbornness. I still say we should retire Venna for good.”

  Zenya shifted her head, staring at Dax. “Do you hear that?”

  “My auditory circuits are fully functional,” Dax said.

  Zenya’s lips twisted as if sucking on a lemon. Perhaps her old fingers clutched the rail more tightly. She shook her head the slightest bit, those signals ceasing. “Is this truly the agent we should risk employing the crystals, given the stakes at play?” Zenya asked in a level tone.

  Dax nodded. This was even better than he had expected. Fate was helping him. Who would have ever guessed that?

  “Given this is the case,” the adept said, “we may need to use a stronger overlay on her personality.”

  “Is that good with you, sir?” Zenya asked.

  “I do not understand the problem,” Dax said.

  “A stronger personality overlay could create a mental rebound,” the adept said. “That might crush Venna’s psyche if it weighs on her too heavily or if she’s pushed for too long.”

  “What are the odds that will happen?” Dax said.

  “I would give it a one in four chance,” the adept said.

  Dax shrugged. “If you must do this, you must. The risk is acceptable to me.”

  “You heard the cyber,” Zenya told the adept. “Condition Venna to the best pitch possible. Then, you will start adding the knowledge to her that Senior Dax will give you.”

  The adept nodded, glanced at Dax, removed her goggles and then slid the induction helmet back over her head.

  Wake up, Venna.

  In the tank, Venna stirred and opened her eyes.

  I have some new information for you. Are you ready to receive it?

  There seemed to be a moment of hesitation on Venna’s part.

  Dax expected to hear more talk about winter and home again. Instead, Venna surprised them all.

  I am ready.

  Excellent. Now, repeat after me…

  As the others at their monitors added electric pulses to the words, and different others added chemical inducements to the blue solution, the adept began the next level of hypnotic training to Venna McGrath.