1

88-XOR and AL33ta were both in power-saver mode when the dune sled stopped moving and its calamitous engine grew quiet. Eighty-eight stirred first.

"I wonder what this means," he said.

Our chance to escape! Lita replied.

"I was thinking more like a horrible death."

Angry chittering drew their attention to a doorway, where several Fidushi stood, pointing weapons at the androids.

What are they saying?

"Just a guess here, but something along the lines of, ’Don’t even think about trying to escape.’"

The leader of the Fidushi beckoned impatiently with an outstretched hand.

"Take her first!" Eighty-eight said, cowering behind Lita. "She has a higher tolerance for pain."

Lita swiveled her head 180 degrees to look at her friend.

"It was a compliment," Eighty-eight said.

2

Night had come and gone. The top half of Tanix’s great sun sat orange-red on the horizon. The desert air rippled in the mounting heat.

As they were escorted out of the holding pen and off the sled, the androids saw that the Fidushi had pulled up near a modest desert dwelling. Several weather-beaten domes protruded from the terrain like giant stepping stones. They were made of a composite material and arranged in a roughly circular pattern. Beyond the domes were scattered meteorological instruments and pieces of agricultural equipment.

Eighty-eight and Lita were directed to join a line made up of other androids and miscellaneous bits of salvage. Numerous Fidushi guarded the merchandise while the leader, Rednal Rev, waited to greet the customer.

A hatch opened in one of the domes and out of it climbed a kindly man in his 50s, wearing a loose white garment. He had the leathery skin and the apparent indifference to the heat of a lifelong Tanixian. His name was Marten Slough. Some of his people pronounced it ’Sluff,’ but Marten adhered to the original way of saying it, which was ’Slaow.’

Everyone pronounced ’Marten’ the same way except cousin Tard, who always had to be different.

3

Several seconds after Marten emerged from the dome he was followed by a dashing man of 19. He was dressed in all gray and had strikingly piercingly blue eyes.

And there was an aura about him, something vague but very real; an undeniable sense that he was destined for great things.

But not just yet.

He scowled at the brightness of the morning and plucked his tunic away from his skin. As soon as he released the fabric it resumed clinging to him. He grabbed it again and poofed it back and forth, trying to air-dry the material.

"Marten!" called a voice from within the domed structure.

The young man stopped what he was doing and turned toward the hatch opening. "He can’t hear you!"

"Please remind him that we need an android that knows Phraxis."

"Okay!" the young man said. "Why do I have to do everything?" he muttered after closing the hatch.

He plucked at his tunic again. He wiped sweat from his face.

"God I hate this frakking planet," Jakk Spacebreaker said.

4

He scuffed over to where his uncle stood inspecting the Fidushi wares.

"Uncle Marten," Jakk began.

"Do you know Phraxis?" Marten asked a black android.

Jakk stopped what he was saying and shook his head in disgust.

"Phraxis?" the android said. "Why, yes, of course I do. It’s a vulgar language but I have been known to traffic in it."

"Great, then," Marten said. "We’ll take this one and the red one," he told Rednal Rev.

The Fidushi leader barked commands to her underlings.

Marten turned to his nephew. "Sorry, Jakk. What were you saying?"

"Never mind."

"What did your aunt want just now?"

"Nothing important," Jakk said meaningfully.

"Everything all right? You seem a little agitated."

Jakk made a point of ignoring the question.

"Well, anyway," Marten said pleasantly -- he’d had plenty of practice dealing with Jakk’s moods -- "would you mind taking these two androids to the shop and cleaning them up? It’d be great if we could have them up and running before breakfast."

"Right now?" Jakk said. "Aw, c’mon!"

"I don’t understand. Are you busy? Do you have something else going on?"

"Of course I do!" Jakk said. "Theoretically, anyway."

"I know you’d rather not do it," Marten said. "But it’d be a really big help to your aunt and me. This has been a tough season for us. If we can’t turn things around soon we may lose everything. Not just the farm; the whole homestead. And we have nothing to fall back on."

"Yeah, I get it," Jakk said. "How many times do you have to say it? ’Woe is us, the end is near.’ Ever think about trying something a little easier than running a farm in the middle of a desert?"

"We’re doing the best we can with the resources we have, Jakk. We could tap into our savings, but then how would we pay for your education? We don’t want you taking on debt to go to the Academy."

There was a pause.

"Come on, you stupid androids!" Jakk said, brushing past Marten. "Let’s go save the frakking farm."

The black android and the red one stepped out of line and followed Jack. A brown android tried to join them but she was immediately set upon by multiple heavily armed Fidushi.

"By the way," the black android said to Jakk, "I’m 88-XOR, but you can call me Eighty-eight."

"Uh-huh," Jakk said. "Let’s go!" he ordered the red android, which appeared to be having difficulties.

The problems were compounded when the red android’s head fell off, followed by its right hand and then its entire torso.

"Good choice," Jakk told his uncle.

While Marten looked to Rednal for redress, the brown android became even more agitated. Eighty-eight! she called. Help!

Eighty-eight tapped Jakk’s shoulder gently. "Excuse me, sir, but if you’re looking for a replacement, Lita over there would do just fine."

Jakk turned to Eighty-eight, his eyes blazing. "Don’t you EVER. Touch me again," he said.

"Sorry, sir!"

"And don’t call me ’sir,’ idiot. Call me...Master."

"Surely you’re joking," Eighty-eight said.

"Or not," he quickly added, alarmed by the look on his new owner’s face.

"Did I hear something about the brown one?" Marten asked.

"Who cares?" Jakk said, turning his back on all of them.

Marten looked to Eighty-eight, who nodded his head vigorously.

"We’ll take her," Marten informed Rednal. The Fidush spoke to Lita’s guards, who lowered their weapons and stepped back. With a squeal of delight Lita trotted to catch up to Eighty-eight, who was hurrying to catch up to Jakk, who was headed for one of the domes.

"You won’t regret this...Master," Eighty-eight said with distaste. "She’s a hard worker who knows her place."

"Well at least one of you does," Jakk said, before he disappeared into the dome.

Oooh, Lita said appreciatively.

"It wasn’t that clever," Eighty-eight chided her.

Next Chapter: The saga continues...