text: nal image. Not a regular photograph. There was an interference pattern stored in the film. You'd have to run a compressed beam of light through the film for the image to come out. It would be a solid reproduction of the sculpture. A depth projection of the an alien artifact."
  
  "Alien artifact?"
  
  "Yes. Apparently, your father and some of his subordinates from the mining company were exploring Vulcan's Forge, the volcano near the mine--"
  
  "I'm familiar with it. I've been there, even."
  
  "Yes, well, they found a crystal head inside the crater. The creature represented looked like no species familiar to the solar system. Harlan showed me a regular photograph of it. What was important about it, though, was what could be seen on the inside."
  
  You shakily raise your teacup to your lips, take a sip of warm tea, and place the cup back on its saucer. "What...what is inside the sculpted head?"
  
  Dumont purses his lips. "My I ask," he says slowly, "how you survived?"
  
  "No, that's not your concern, sir. What was inside the crystal head?"
  
  "I'm sorry I pried. I was just shocked you were there. As to the head, inside is a series of passageways. It's like a maze. The passageways are several colors. It's sort of a labyrinth and the colors seem to be a code. The head's not complete, though. There was another section."
  
  "Oh?"
  
  "Harlan said they'd uncovered it on Mercury. Apparently, that was brought here, but it was stuck in customs. Another space jockey had brought that in but the officials deemed it potentially dangerous and decided to hold onto it until scientists could examine it."
  
  "You know about the attack on the Port Authority today?"
  
  Dumont's eyebrows arch up. "You mean the accident? I heard it was some drunk Russian pilot."
  
  "I think that's what they wanted people to think. But Esmeralda and me were at the Port Authority Building when the whole thing happened. We barely escaped. No, this was no accident."
  
  Dumont takes a sip of his tea, then blankly holds the cup in front of him, his eyes lost in thought. "You know, I'd figured Harlan was dead. I've been talking to another ship captain who's computer has come down with the flu. He needs to make a sun-ward flight to pick up some cargo from Mercury." He sighs. "I think since they found the other component on that planet, perhaps I could convince the captain to let you and your robot tag along."
  
  "Why? There's one man who survived the attack on the Elizabeth Proctor. Some middle-aged red-head name Jay. I need to find him."
  
  "Sandra, I need to let you know that this goes beyond any one man. This is something bigger. I feel remorse for what's happened, even though I was not directly involved. I'd like to make up in some way...maybe help you find the true people behind this."
  
  "So you don't know who all is responsible for my parent's deaths?"
  
  "I'm afraid Harlan only knew so much. This is a much bigger conspiracy than you realize. I would like to help you get to the bottom of this. I of course realize this means you will be continuing to risk your life, but apparently that's what you've been doing all this time, anyway."
  
  "Mistress, Sandra," says Esmeralda. "Perhaps we should see if we can talk to the Russians."
  
  You look to her. "You mean they didn't get themselves killed when they crashed their ship into the Port Authority Building?"
  
  "No. I overheard some space-men talking in the streets as we were headed to Sunrise Towers. It seems the Russians were apprehended by Port security and are being transported to Weinbaum Island to be given over to the custody of the Marshall. On the northern end of Straus's Island there are fishing boats that go out to sea to ply their trade. I'm sure with what's left of the money Andrea gave you, we could convince one of the fishers to give us a ride to Weinbaum Island."
  
  You consider your options. "Maybe those Russians could tell us something useful."
  
  Dumont sets down his tea-cup and looks at you seriously. "I really don't think those men would be very forthcoming about who they are working for. I doubt they were taking orders from the Soviet government; there'd be too great a risk of this turning into an international incident. But I do know a lot of people on Mercury and I could help you find better leads. I'm a professional computer, you know; I've got very analytical mind."
  
  Esmeralda pats your shoulder. "I shall leave this decision entirely up to you, my dear child."
  
  You chuckle dryly. "Esmeralda, you're not my keeper...well, possibly. But the decision's always mine."
  
  > see if Dumont Can Get You Passage to Mercury
  Dumont smiles when you agree to his offer. "In that case, let me set you up for the night. There's no use letting Harlan's room go to waste, so you might as well have it."
  
  He stands up and waves for you to follow him. You get up and are lead to a room at the back of the apartment. It's small and has a cot made up with a blanket and pillow in one corner. The rest of the room is taken up by several steamer trunks covered with bottles, most empty, but some half-filled with liquor. Adorning the bare gray metal walls are taped-up pin-ups of naked young women.
  
  "I see he liked the ladies..." you say in a barely-concealed sarcastic tone.
  
  Dumont sighs and begins pulling the pictures off the walls. "I must apologize for the decor of my previous roommate. He was a bit of a lothario. I can assure you I would never go in for such aesthetics. This is hardly to my tastes. I was willing to tolerate his ways because he was willing to tolerate mine. He never judged me."
  
  You sit on the cot and place your metal suitcase on the floor beside you. "What was there to judge? I think I have an idea, but I don't want to broach. I could be wrong."
  
  Esmeralda walks the far end of the cot. "Sandra, my child, I believe you will find in Dumont a kindred soul."
  
  You look to her. "Kindred?"
  
  Dumont peels the last picture from a wall and evens the stack of images in his hands. "Miss Acosta, I think that should be obvious to anyone who isn't blind or deaf." He holds up the stack of pin-ups. "Maybe you'd like to look through these to see if there are any that suit your fancy?"
  
  You stand up and cough. "You know I like women?"
  
  Dumont smiles modestly. "I only just guessed based on what your robot said. I imagine it's been hard for you. Did your parents know?"
  
  You sigh. "They found out. For a while, I almost hated them."
  
  Dumont steps to your side and places his hand on your shoulder. "It's pretty evident to me that you love them still. Why bother to going to all this trouble if you didn't?"
  
  You sit on the cot and place your head in your hands. "I don't know. Maybe I just need closure. Maybe it's my Catholic upbringing...honor thy father and mother."
  
  "You didn't have to like them to still care about them. Here, let me go down the hall to one of my neighbor's apartments. She has a radio I can contact the rocket ship captain with. I should hopefully have an answer for you in less than ten minutes."
  
  Dumont steps out of the room and you look to Esmeralda. "Don't you think you were making some big assumptions about Dumont? Just because a man is refined doesn't mean he's a homosexual."
  
  "No," says Esmeralda, "but I could fit the pieces together enough to make an educated guess."
  
  "Huh, you must be a natural detective."
  
  Esmeralda pats your shoulder. "I think you mean artificial."
  
  You laugh. "Esmeralda, you may have a man-made body, but your personality is something else entirely."
  
  You're resting on the cot when Dumont finally comes back, a smile on his face. "Good news, Sandra. I got you on passage." You sit up. "I'm glad to hear it."
  
  "Oh, and Andrea told me to say hi for her."
  
  > Rocket to the Unturning World
  It's about a day before the mission starts, so you and Esmeralda are entertained by Dumont who, in spite of his aversion to green tea, still cooks some plump and tasty noodles. He shows you where the tenants of Sunrise Towers can do their laundry (a grimy shed with a tin roof and two washing machines in an "alley" behind the apartment building) and you happily clean the brine out of your salty wardrobe. You're not as happy though when he has to show you how to hang your cloths on a laundry line made from an old steel cable out the back port window of his bedroom. You ask if anyone of the neighbors ever tries stealing his cloths off the line, but he explains they'd be risking their lives leaning so far out given this is four stories off the ground.
  
  The next day, you done a white cotton dress and your blue blazer and go with Esmeralda as the two of you follow Dumont to the landing field in the middle of Coventown. Eventually, your party happens upon a VTO rocket towering over your heads.
  
  "Here we are," says Dumont, beaming. "I'll see if Captain Lakaris is around." He saunters off and you look at the blue and gold letters on the ship's hull: The Icarus.
  
  You chuckle under your breath.
  
  "What is it you find so amusing, dear?" asks Esmeralda.
  
  You pat her metal shoulder. "Esse, Old Girl, I don't know if it's a good omen that the ship we're going sunward on is named after the boy who's wings melted when he was dumb enough to fly too close to the sun."
  
  "Oh? I rather like it," says a man's voice behind you.
  
  You turn around to see a tall man with silvery wisps in his otherwise dark curly hair, and a gray space jokey uniform. He takes off his cap and places it in the crook of one arm and holds out a gloved hand for you to shake.
  
  "Allow me to make your acquaintance, young lady," he continues. "I'm Adrian Lakaris, the captain of this fine vessel."
  
  "Uh..." you say, your jaw hanging open.
  
  He grins at you and redones his cap. "I admit calling a ship that frequently makes trips to Mercury Icarus might seem a bit screwy, but then my father was named Icarus, and I owe my love of flight to the dear man. He was killed in the Martian Wars."
  
  "Oh...oh, I'm terribly sorry about that."
  
  "It's all right, girl. That all happened long before you came into the universe. Tell me, are you Sandra Acosta? And is this impressive robot Miss Esmeralda?"
  
  "Uh, why yes. Yes, that's us. So you're Captain Lakaris?" You let go his hand and smile like an idiot.
  
  "Yes, I am." He holds out his hand to Esmeralda and she obligingly reaches out a metal claw to greet him. He smiles at her. "You are indeed a very impressive robot, Miss Esmeralda. What year is your model?"
  
  "Well, that would be 1998," says Esmeralda in a charmed voice. "The same year as Mistress Sandra here was born. Although the Acosta's didn't purchase me till 2005. I had a bit of a strange, rather rocky history until I came into their ownership."
  
  Adrian laughs lightly. "You will have to tell me about that past history some time, Miss Esmeralda."
  
  > Life on the Icarus
  The next three days are spent in transit to the planet Mercury. Being strapped into an acceleration chair and experiencing several G's is not much fun, but once the Icarus has escaped Venus's gravity well, the ship settles into a steady acceleration that gives the sensation of 1 Gravity, like they have on Earth. Captain Lakaris shows you and Esmeralda to a guest cabin on the third deck and you're happy to see that it has an actual bed to sleep in in. Once the two of you have become situated, the captain invites you to join him, Dumont, and his crew for lunch. The meal consists of rations of tuna, sliced bread, mashed potatoes, and iced tea.
  
  "I keep meaning to ask you," you say at the table in the mess hall, "should I call you Captain Lakaris or Adrian?"
  
  The captain laughs good-naturedly. "Adrian is fine, thanks. This is a pretty informal setting, all told."
  
  He sits at the head of the table. To his right is his first mate, Mikhail Kamarov, a stout, silver-haired Russian who knew Adrian's father during the Martian Wars. Across from you are the two pilots, Oumar and Malik, two handsome, dusky brothers in their thirties, originally from Senegal. Sitting next to your right is Dumont, with Esmeralda standing next to the table on your left.
  
  You take a sip of your ice tea. "If you're so informal, though, Adrian, why bother with the uniform?"
  
  Oumar chuckles. "The same reason we wear uniforms." He fingers the gray material of is tunic sleeve. "These threads impart respect."
  
  "Now whether or not it's deserved...well, that's another story," laughs Malik.
  
  Oumar gives Malik a sour stare. "Little Brother, you're old enough to know better." He looks to you. "No, we space jockeys don't always earn respect. Some of us are little better than lecherous drunks."
  
  "I don't drink," says Malik. "Goes against our dietary laws."
  
  "Did I say you drank? I said some space jockeys. I wasn't naming names."
  
  "Oh, I know what you mean, though," you say. "Esmeralda and I ran afoul of one of those types. Some idiot named John. What did he call himself, Esmeralda?"
  
  "The Jack of Broken Hearts," your robot tutor replies.
  
  Malik's face lights up and he starts giggling. "Oh, you met John? Terrible, terrible man, that John Szymanski. A real sleaze. I'm not sure how he was able to get such a beautiful girlfriend, though. Andrea is just too classy and intelligent for that bum. She must have fallen on hard times or something."
  
  "She did," you say.
  
  "But let's not start airing people's dirty laundry," says Dumont. "Andrea's a good woman and we needn't go into her past history."
  
  "She was my father's secretary."
  
  Oumar's eyes widen. "Well, I guess Venus really is a small world. We all knew she'd worked for someone big before she came to Coventown. What does your father do for a living?"
  
  You clear you throat, briefly stare at your plate, then return your gaze to Oumar. "Nothing now. He was the Vice President of Vulcan Mineral Corporation."
  
  "Oh, that is impressive. Is that why you're going to Mercury? Although, why doesn't your father go there if he wants to ask the president for his job back?"
  
  You're silent for a moment. Your start to take in a deep breath before letting Oumar know the fate of your parents when Dumont interjects.
  
  "Let us just say Sandra has her reasons for going to Mercury," he says. "It's a personal matter. If she feels comfortable enough to discuss it with you, she will."
  
  You turn to Dumont and smile. "Thank you, Dumont."
  
  Mikhail Kamarov starts to stand, grabbing his tin plate. "I should get back to the bridge now."
  
  Captain Lakaris puts his hand on Mikhail's shoulder. "Wait, Mikhail. Miss Acosta here hasn't really gotten to know you, yet. Maybe you should tell her your idea about the solar communications network."
  
  "Oh, I don't know if she really wants to hear that."
  
  "Or maybe about your how you met my father." Adrian looks to you.
  
  "Well," you say, "I don't want to hold the him up."
  
  "It's no problem," says Mikhail.
  
  You can let him return to his duties so you can prepare for the space journey's end. Or if you would like to know more about the second in command, he's more than willing to tell you his idea about this Solar Communications Network, or how he met Adrian's father during the Martian Wars.
  
  > Preparing for the Space Journey's End
  Halfway through the Icarus's trip to Mercury, the ship cuts its atomic thrust, flips over so that its engines face sun-ward, and then begins deceleration. The period of free fall between acceleration and deceleration is brief enough that you don't suffer space sickness, but you're still more than happy to unbuckle yourself from your seat and begin walking around again.
  
  A day before the ship alights at the Napu Rocket Port on Mercury, you and Esmeralda visit Dumont in his quarters to discuss the next move in your quest. A simple knock on his door gains you admittance and you step into a small cabin dominated by a large table where Dumont sits making adjustments on his wooden slide rule and penciling in numerical figures on various sheets of graph paper splayed randomly before him.
  
  "Hello, Sandra. Esmeralda," he says, occasionally glancing up at you and your robot, but mostly concentrating on his calculations.
  
  "Hi, Dumont," you reply. "I was just wondering what our course of action should be once we touch down on Mercury. Are you doing landing computations right now?"
  
  "No, orbital computations. Landing on Mercury is a little easier than most planets since we don't have to take planetary rotation into account. But I still need to figure it's orbital path around the sun in relation to the ship's current position."
  
  "Sounds complicated."
  
  Dumont glances up at you and smiles. "Not really. I've been doing this for years now, and mathematics has always been something of a second language for me. That never got me any dates when I was your age, but considering my inclinations, it was all for the best."
  
  "Well, I guess I'm glad that worked out for you then. You know, if you did need any help, I'm sure Esmeralda here could run some calculations. I'm pretty sure she's much better at that sort of thing than your slide rule there."
  
  "I don't think Mr. Jones would wish for my help, Sandra," says Esmeralda.
  
  "She's right," says Dumont. "If us computers started using machines like Esmeralda here to do our math, we'd be out of jobs. We've only been able to secure our professions for as long as we have because we have one of the most powerful unions in the solar system. It's not inconceivable that robots could replace us if we let them."
  
  "A robot computer..." you say, musingly. "That's interesting. But also a little scary to think about. The last thing we should do is let machines do all our thinking for us."
  
  Esmeralda looks to you. "That's certainly never been an issue with you, Sandra. You simply blow off more than half the suggestions I make for you."
  
  "That's because I'm a human and have this thing called wisdom. It's much better than all that rote knowledge you've gotten from reading one million books."
  
  "You're sixteen, dear! You certainly haven't had enough life experiences to be that wise."
  
  You pat Esmeralda on the shoulder and smile. "Esse, Esse, the universe doesn't work on the principals of Symbolic Logic like you do. You can never grasp the nuances of the human condition."
  
  "Not to interrupt this petty squabble," says Dumont, laying his pencil on the table, "but I'm a little busy right now. So, can we just get to the matter at hand, or could our conversation wait till after we've landed at Napu?"
  
  You frown in embarrassment. "Oh, yeah...Well, you said they found that other component on Mercury..."
  
  "Yes. Apparently, it was in some lava tube on the dark side of the planet. Harlan said that the tunnels in that region may actually match the passageways inside the head."
  
  "Okay, maybe we could look there, then."
  
  "It's pretty cold on the dark side of Mercury. We'd have to get the right equipment just to go out there." Dumont stares up at the ceiling, lost in thought, then removes his pince-nez and looks at you. "Since this all involves the Vulcan Minerals Corporation, we could seek out the headquarters to the company. My only concern there is the president of the company might know too much. He might not be happy to see you."
  
  "Possibly, but I know his grandson. Kendall Gregory Thompson. He's a third just like you, Dumont. My mother used to try to set me up with him...well, before my parents found out that was a losing battle. Maybe I could get hold of him."
  
  Dumont replaces his pince-nez. "I don't know if that's a good idea...but I'll leave that decision to you. But sleep on it, won't you?"
  
  "Okay, that sounds fair enough. Come on, Esse, let's leave Dumont to his work."
  
  > At the Napu Rocket Port
  The next day The Icarus descends onto Mercury's twilit Habitable Band, a region a half a mile across that belts the planet from pole to pole. Once the ship's settled onto the landing field of Napu, you grab your suitcase and you and Esmeralda step down the ladder from the rocket and set foot onto Mercury. Feeling light in the planet's lesser gravity, you inhale the warm breeze blowing in from the Mercury's sun side and survey your surroundings. Beyond the landing field are a series of tall concrete skyscrapers, thin as teeth on a comb and rising far, far into the dim gray-blue sky.
  
  "Wow, how high do those buildings go?" you ask.
  
  Esmeralda cranes her neck back farther than a human ever could. "I'd say to the stratosphere, my dear. There's not much open-air landmass humans can safely use on the surface of Mercury, so they take advantage of the planet's weaker gravity and stack floors up as high as possible. I know there are a few cities on the night side, since it's merely freezing cold there, but to my knowledge the only people who live on the sun side are the employees of the Vulcan Mineral Corporation, and they can only live under layers of rock in a network of underground lava tubes."
  
  You stare past the skyscrapers of Napu and see several lines of tall mountains. "I guess the mountain chain here keeps too much hot air from blowing in."
  
  "It does more than that, dear. We're actually in a valley between two mountain chains. It's the mountains that keep the thin atmosphere here from completely blowing off into space."
  
  Dumont, dressed in a shiny blue suite with wide lapels and a lime-green handkerchief folded in his breast pocket, gingerly steps down the rungs of the rocket's ladder. He smiles at you and Esmeralda, polishes the lenses of his pince-nez with his handkerchief, and then replaces his eye-piece on the bridge of his nose. He takes in a deep breath and says:
  
  "Good to be back on Mercury. It's been two years since last I was here. Mostly, I've had assignments for an outer planets run. Titan's a beautiful moon, mind you, especially with the rings of Saturn in the night sky, but Mercury has that old frontier world quality I remember from my early days on Venus."
  
  "Venus is only civilized on the surface," you reply. "It's like someone made a cake out of thorns and then covered it with vanilla icing to make you want to eat it. You don't have to get far into your first bite till you taste the blood in your mouth."
  
  Esmeralda puts a steel claw on your shoulder. "Is something bothering, my dear?"
  
  You pat Esmeralda's claw. "I'm fine, Esse. Sometimes the bitterness just comes out in unexpected places. I just want to get to the bottom of what's going on."
  
  "Well," says Dumont, "I say we sit down over a nice morning meal and discuss our options. There's a little diner in the Rocket Port's main building I used to frequent. They have some wonderful French toast. Plus, I want to get a newspaper and see if there's anything about what's been happening on Venus."
  
  "Sounds like a good idea to me. I could use something solid in my stomach."
  
  The three of you cross the vast landing field and enter a long, two-story concrete building. The hallways inside are bright and white and polished and filled with well-dressed people in business attire and many gray-tuniced space jockeys. Dumont finds a newspaper kiosk in a corner and purchase a copy of The Planetary Eagle. He scans the front page and then opens the paper and leafs through it till he stops on a page near the back. His quizzical expression melts into a frown.
  
  "Oh, dear," he says, staring down at the paper. "Sandra, come over here and look at this, won't you?"
  
  You walk up beside him and stare over his shoulder at the headline below: Young Importer Found Murdered in Her Apartment. The accompanying photo is the smiling face of Andrea Laughlin.
  
  You stare down at the golden splotches embedded within the green Formica table, occasionally taking a sip from your cup of hot chocolate or munching on the egg, cheese, and bagel sandwich on the saucer before you. Your sitting with Esmeralda and Dumont at the back of Scheherazade's Rocket Port Diner, a pink Art-Deco establishment. On the wall behind you runs a long ribbon window with a wide view of row-upon-row of glittering rocket ships on the vast landing field. Esmeralda stands to your right, her spider-like legs crouched at the knees so that she squats at eye-level to you. Across from you, Dumont pours warm syrup from a small plastic pitcher onto his fifth slice of buttered French toast. He's about to use his knife and fork to cut the toast into smaller sections, when he looks up at you.
  
  "Are you okay, Sandra?" he asks.
  
  You take the folded newspaper from your lap and look at the picture of Andrea. "I can't believe she's dead, Dumont. It says here they found her body in a freezer in her apartment. The face mangled till it no longer even looked human, but her neighbors could still identify it as her's. They have her boyfriend as a suspect. I can easily see that. The way he acted towards me when I met him...well, I knew there was something wrong with that guy."