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Lando shook his head. He wished his little robot friend were there to see this hand; it was a lulu. “Yes, but first you sent out an explorer whose memories were suppressed and who could not act violently. That way he’d generate fresh impressions and not get your civilization into trouble with others unless it was absolutely necessary.”

“Correct,” the One said. “And while the suppression worked, the conditioning did not. Self-preservation is a powerful motive, even though in the end—sabacc!”

“Beginner’s luck!” the professional gambler howled, wondering how much he’d lost this time. He heard footsteps behind him, turned and looked down the curving corridor toward the engine area. A figure stood there, covered with grease, a spanner in one of its hands. Its five-sided carapace was still scorched.

“I got the deflectors readjusted, Master,” Vuffi Raa said. “Admiral Shanga’s men are good shots, but that weakness won’t show up again now!”

“Fine. Now will you please stop being dutiful and join the game? And don’t call me master in front of your old man, here, it’s embarrassing.”

* * *

Hours later, two days after the battle and departure of the fleet, Lando was dozing in his pilot’s chair in the cockpit. Vuffi Raa was out somewhere, visiting his kinfolk.

“Captainmasterlandocalrissiansir, I have returned.” the ship-to-ship said.

“Zzzzz—what? Lehesu! Why so formal all of a sudden—and where the Core have you been?” The gambler had heard it suggested that the young Oswaft had run away from defending the ThonBoka. He didn’t believe it for a moment, but he was curious.

“Oh, just before your duel with Rokur Gepta, I heard him tell an officer—his helmet microphone was open, apparently—that he was sending a courier to have that person’s family murdered should he disobey a rather ugly order. I hopped after him, but it took me a while to catch up.”

Lando stretched, yawned, reached for a cigar. “Oh? What did you do then, ask him to stop politely?”

“Why yes, and he did. In several pieces, I’m afraid: I shouted it at him.”

The gambler chuckled. “So now you’re home and going to be the Elder of all you survey, is that how it is?”

There was a long pause. “No, not precisely. I told them I would not be their Elder, and if they wanted my advice, they wouldn’t appoint a new one. I don’t think they listened to me. I wish neither to give nor receive orders—something I learned from you, Lando my friend.”

Lando his friend scratched his head, a gesture he’d never had habitually until he’d picked it up from Vuffi Raa. “I’m glad to hear it. What are you going to do with yourself, then?”

“Explore, discover the answers to questions. Probably get in trouble again. But tell me, I am very confused on one point: the Millennium Falcon is not really a person, is that correct? Nor the cruiser Wennis?”

“The late, unlamented cruiser Wennis. I don’t know what that life-destroying stuff was Gepta spewed around, but I’m glad it was destroyed with her. No, friend Lehesu, much as we may love her, the Falcon is a machine.” He puffed on his cigar, anticipating the Oswaft’s next bewildered question. “And before you ask, yes, the One, the Other, and the Rest are indeed persons, of the mechanical persuasion. They think for themselves, the Falcon doesn’t. In a sense, they are to you what Vuffi Raa is to me: you both live in free space; it’s your natural environment. Vuffi Raa and I are arms-and-legs types, born and bred in a gravity well and most comfortable where there’s light and heat and atmosphere.”

“But Lando, what is Vuffi Raa?”

“A larval starship, if you believe him. The organic people who invented his ancestors looked like him, built machines that looked like him—the same idea as a humanoid robot. Today his people use ‘extensors’—manipulators—that still look like him. If he’s a good little bot and eats all his spinach, he’ll grow up to be a starship, too. If he wants to.”

Concern tinged the vacuum-breather’s transmission. “I’m told that he was nearly killed while I was gone. I feel somewhat guilty for—”

“Forget it, old jellyfish, his daddy