Darius shook his head. “You have mistaken me for someone else. I am here only to do an assignment for Ddwng of the DoOon.”
“This is true, sir,” the ball said, speaking for the man. “You are to complete a mission as Captain of this ship, the FTL Flay. I am your executive officer, Jjle.”
Darius stepped out of the little chamber. “But I know nothing of ships! I can’t even find the sail!”
Jjle smiled. “This ship has no sail, sir,” the ball said. “It is a destroyer-class thousand-light-year craft. I am competent to operate it, as I shall do at your command.”
“No sail?” Darius asked blankly.
“Sir, if you will permit the personal remark, I suspect you have come into this command rather suddenly. May I proffer a suggestion?”
“Yes, please, J-jlee! I have no idea what—”
“Allow me to show you to your quarters, where your nulls will acquaint you with the necessary background. When you emerge, no other member off the crew will know that this is new to you.”
This had the sound of good advice. “Yes, thank you.”
“The appropriate term is ‘affirmative’, sir. When we reach your quarters, tell me to ‘carry on’.”
“Affirmative,” Darius said.
They walked down a short squared-off metal hall to another door panel. “Your touch will key it open, sir.”
Darius touched the panel. It slid aside to reveal a chamber beyond.
“I look forward to serving with you, sir,” Jjle said.
“Uh, yes. Uh, carry on.”
The man lifted his hand again, fingers splayed. Then he turned smartly and departed.
Darius stepped into the chamber. The panel closed behind him. How he had come from the palace on the ground to this “space” ship he did not know, but it was actually no stranger than stepping through Mode boundaries.
The chamber was opulent. Lush carpeting covered the floor, and fine murals were on the walls. Three odd statues lined one side. Near the ceiling were ornate cabinets set into the corners. There was a huge picture window overlooking a lovely placid river valley. This was definitely not where he had been! But neither was it on the water.
Then he saw a statue move. It was breathing.
He looked more closely. The bodies of the figures were human, but the heads resembled those of cats. One body was evidently male, for it was of masculine proportions and had a codpiece fitted obviously into his shorts; another was female, with full breasts and hips distending her tight dress; the one between them seemed to be neuter.
“Who are you?” he asked.
The male stepped forward marginally. “We are your nulls, Captain Darius,” a ball he hadn’t noticed before said. “We are of the Feline persuasion. I am Tom.”
The neuter figure stepped forward. “I am Cat.” The pitch and intonation differed, though it was still the ball speaking.
Then the female: “I am Pussy.” This time the tone was sultry.
“Nulls?”
“Nulls are subhuman servants. We exist to serve you in any capacity you desire.”
Darius pondered that, not knowing what to make of it.
“Your attention, sir,” the ball said in a neutral voice. “A person is beyond the panel.”
“Who?”
“The woman Provos.”
“Let her in,” he said, relieved.
The panel opened. Provos stepped through. She seemed to take this reunion for granted, remembering their future association. “I presume you interceded to bring me here,” she said.
“I interceded to bring you here,” he repeated, because that was the dialogue she remembered.
She turned to the three Feline nulls. “It is pleasant to commence our association, Tom, Cat, and Pussy,” she said.
She spoke in Darius’ language, which the folk here did not seem to know. So he translated.
The three were startled. Darius was sympathetic. “Provos is a woman of special ways,” he said.
“These folk are to be trusted,” Provos advised him. “You will get to know them while I clean up and retire.” She walked across the room to a panel set in the wall, and tapped on it. It didn’t open.
“Uh, obey her touch as you would mine,” Darius said to the panel. It opened, and Provos stepped inside another tiny chamber. The panel closed after her.
Darius addressed the Felines. “I would like to sit down and get to know you.”
Immediately, Tom walked to another panel. It opened, and from it slid an oblong board. The board puffed out and became a chair. Tom set it down before Darius.
Darius sat in it. “Make yourselves comfortable,” he said.
The three got down on the floor before him and curled up rather in the manner of cats, their limbs tucked under them, their heads up, watching him. This was all right for Tom and Cat, but it caused Pussy to show such a generous cleavage that it was distracting.
“Pussy, get yourself a chair,” he said. “I will talk with you.”
She rose and produced a chair. She sat on it in the human manner, crossing her legs somewhat loosely. Her skirt was not long enough for this maneuver, so that the whole of her inner thighs was now visible for his inspection. She wore no diaper. Indeed, she seemed to wear no panties either.
He decided to try to ignore this, lest he seem too fussy. “Pussy, please clarify for me what it is the three of you are expected to do for me.”
“We exist to serve you in any capacity you desire,” the sultry voice of the ball said. The cat-woman’s thighs spread a bit more.
“Yes, so you said before. But what capacities do you expect me to desire of you?”
“Information, body attendance, sex,” she said via the ball, confirming the message her legs had been sending.
“Information is the one I desire now. How did you come to be the way you are?”
“We are androids, manufactured in the factory from re-constituted human genetic material. We have no souls. Our heads are modified to conform to several animal patterns, though we retain the ability to perceive and communicate as humans do. As a class we are the nulls; as a subclass we are the Felines, male, neuter, and female. Our only pleasure comes from being of significant service to our human masters, and we must perform at least one such service each day or suffer.”
Evidently this was a set speech for the edification of ignorants like himself. Darius appreciated it. “You are performing such a service to me by giving me this information?”
“Yes,” she agreed eagerly.
“What happens to a null who fails to perform such a service?”
“On the first day we suffer emotional pain. On the second, physical pain. On the third we die.”
The DoOon did not treat his servants gently! “Suppose I just tell you that I need no services, and to relax?”
“The nature of acceptable services is listed and programmed,” the ball said in her voice. “We can not deviate. If you wish some service which is not programmed, you must arrange it by having us reprogrammed on a temporary basis.”
“Suppose I do not need a service, but another human being does. May I have you do it, abating your need?”
“No,” she said sadly. The ball seemed to be fading out of awareness.
The neuter null lifted a hand, evidently a signal for attention. “Speak, Cat,” Darius said.
“Pussy’s answer is incomplete. We are differentiated by type as well as by sex. Tom is strong and capable of violence at your behest; he will defend you against attack, even by a human being. Pussy is sympathetic and versed in the arts of gentleness, massage, seduction, and sexual performance. I lack either nature, but am the most objective and intelligent of your Felines. I am capable of interpreting your commands and questions and verifying your actual intent when you mis-speak yourself or are vague. Accordingly I advise you that while Pussy’s response is technically correct, there are ways to circumvent this restriction.”