"This is true," Candy said.
"And Garth has a great deal of knowledge about the Gaol and their empire, and about the mechanics and organization of their space vessels. But his newfound empathy for other living things has played havoc with his concentration, and in any event he was not a decision-maker, he was a technician deemed to be expendable. So he, too, lacks initiative."
The Gaol whistled. "That is correct," Candy said.
"But we do all want to serve the interests of the Imago to the best of our abilities," Jack said. "So since I seem to be the one with initiative, and Tappy trusts me, is it agreed that I serve as temporary leader of this group?"
Garth whistled. "What is a leader?"
"A creature who acts as the originator of the actions taken by the group. As the guide for others to follow. The one with initiative."
There was no response. So Jack prompted it. "Garth?"
"Agreed," the Gaol whistled.
"Candy?"
"Agreed."
"Tappy?"
"I love you."
Jack smiled. He was still slightly startled to hear Tappy talking. She was quite pretty now, with her face clear and her hair nicely done; Candy was taking excellent care of the host of the Imago. And, for whatever reason, Tappy did look older; her breasts showed more clearly under her sweater (where had Candy found a sweater for her?) and there was an aura of maturity about her. She had the attitude of adult confidence. "Apart from that."
"Yes, agreed, of course." She glanced sidelong at him. "Now will you initiate a kiss for me?"
"You aren't going to try to seduce me again, and fall asleep before we get there?"
She shook her head, smiling. "No, Jack."
He leaned over and kissed her. That had really worked out well, last night. (He chose to call a period of sleep night, regardless of the clock. The clock hardly mattered now.) He had not denied Tappy, she had denied him, and he still wasn't guilty of another statutory rape. But he knew that he would not luck out that way again, and wasn't sure he wanted to. They were far from Earth now, and no one else cared about the detail of age. Certainly the conversion of the galaxy was more important than the precise timing of an act of love between two creatures. Still, his Earthly inhibitions remained. So he loved and desired Tappy, and yet also felt guilty for those feelings, irrational as that might be.
"At least, not right now," Tappy added, crossing her legs so that her thighs showed under her skirt. (Skirt? Candy must have a clothing generator similar to the food generator!) Her legs, too, seemed to have added flesh. If she intended to incite his interest, she was succeeding. She must have had considerable experience in this, and learned exactly how to push his buttons— in her seven years of fantasy. Maybe her empathy, because of the wakening of the Imago, enabled her to understand his desire in a way she otherwise would not have.
Had it really been only three or four days— or had it been seven years, and the brevity of the time span was his fantasy? He looked at Candy, who was now quite demurely clothed, her former sex appeal damped down. She would know— but could he trust her answer? If this were another dream, she would respond in the manner required by the dream, which might have no relation to the truth.
Jack shook himself. There was no profit in such speculation. He still had to assume that this was reality, and make it work. As reality, this presented a considerable challenge.
"All right. So here we are in isolation, the only free folk in this stellar system, with a Gaol empire ship standing guard five light-hours away to blast any intruder into oblivion. What happens if we try to make this ship leave this system, Garth?"
"Nothing," the Gaol whistled. "It is incapable of interstellar travel."
"Then suppose we make it travel toward the Gaol ship?" Then, when the Gaol did not answer, he added: "When I look directly at you, when speaking, as I am doing now, this has the same effect as naming you."
"It would take this ship several Earth years to traverse that distance— and when it did, the Gaol ship would simply move away across the system in one hop."
"So we can neither escape this system nor approach the Gaol ship," Jack concluded. "How, then, can we accomplish our purpose?" He looked at Garth, who had no answer, so he looked at Candy.
"We can bring the Gaol to us," Candy said. "They will come if the host of the Imago requires attention."
"Say, you are capable of original thought after all!" Jack exclaimed.
"No, only of assessing prospects in a given situation, when required to do so," she clarified. "The AI have become proficient at avoiding the attention of the Gaol, and therefore know what draws that attention."
"Still, I'm glad we brought you along. You are good for Tappy, and perhaps good for the mission."
"This is my purpose in existence," she reminded him.
It was no use trying to compliment the emotionless AI! "So what is the best way to bring the Gaol ship to us?" he asked. "By 'best' I mean to take into consideration brevity of time, concealment of our motive, and our chances of converting its personnel to empathy."
"I am unable to assess these values with competence."
Jack looked at Garth. "Are you?"
"Yes. It would not be wise to try to bring the full ship here, as it would apply stasis to this craft and investigate it in detail from a secure distance. Any living creature who boards this ship, or who approaches closer to it than one light-hour, will be destroyed after completing its business."
"You have a point," Jack agreed. "The big ship is not going to let us near it. But how about a small ship— or a robot ship? Could we take over that, and use it, without the big ship knowing?"
"I could accomplish this," Garth agreed.
"And because it's a robot ship, with no living creatures aboard to be corrupted, they may not even check it," Jack continued. "Now, Candy— what can you do to make them worry about the security of the Imago host, without alarming them enough to take precautions we couldn't circumvent?"
"A minor equipment failure— perhaps a malfunctioning sensor, suggesting that there is no problem, but the sensor is giving a false indication. A robot ship would routinely but promptly replace the sensor. The Gaol leave little to chance."
"Garth, can you cause a sensor to malfunction? Do you know which one is minor enough to generate no real alarm?"
"Yes. Yes."
"And is there room on such a robot repair ship for the four of us?"
"No."
Jack's heart sank. "For three? Two?"
"No. No."
"One?" Jack asked despairingly. Their plan was coming apart already.
"No."
"Not even one? Then how can we use the robot ship?"
"We can remove its robot and substitute one of us."
Oh. "And then that one can convert the Gaol battlewagon, single-handed, and return here to rescue the others," Jack said.
"Yes."
He would have to watch that irony; these creatures tended to take him literally. "Which one? Tappy?"
"Yes. Only the Imago can convert the ship, and she is the host. She must take the facilitator, because she will not be able to maintain close contact with any personnel for the requisite time."
"But Tappy knows nothing of a Gaol ship," Jack protested. "She would get lost or caught immediately."
"My empathy indicates that your argument is specious," Garth whistled. "You do not desire to risk the host, because of your special feeling for her."
Right on target! But Jack realized that if this was the only way out, and they didn't try it, their alternative would be to float here forever in space, leaving the Imago as effectively isolated as the Gaol intended. Maybe they could set up another dream realm and have it a lifetime of love on a garden planet, but that wouldn't do the galaxy any good.
"The host must be confined in the life-support container when the robot comes," Candy said. "Otherwise the robot will know as it approaches and uses its detail scanners that something serious is wrong, and will withdraw and send an alarm before making physical contact."