Work Ethic

by David Peterson

Duncan Lorraine did not turn away from the view. He knew whose voice had interrupted his peace. He did smile as he answered.

"Of course, Septomus. Every school child knows such things. That knowledge, however, does nothing to detract from the truly inspiring beauty of the scene."

"I guess you're right," Septomus Senatore said without conviction as he moved next to the seat opposite Lorraine. He barely glanced at the planet 1800 miles beyond the high tech glass.

Lorraine sighed. "You always were a bore, Septomus."

"Yes, well I'm sure you won't mind if this bore joins you," Senatore said, seating himself across the table from his old friend. As the romantic continued to stare out the window, the pragmatist kept his attention to his side of the glass, scanning the deceptively large space of the restaurant.

Port Lufkin Station occupied the LaGrange point between the Jovian type world known as Myradonia and its third largest satellite, the rather pleasant Lufkin. The moon, home to some thirty millions, had been named for its discoverer. Arne Lufkin, an entrepreneur of questionable ethics, had been searching for the perfect, out of the way world on which to live out the remainder of his life once that life had grown too "complicated."

The Myradonian system was on the outer most edge of what had been labeled the galactic suburbs. Port Lufkin was one of several stations that served as a meeting place between the farmers of the outlying regions and those they supplied within the central region of the galactic community. Its boxy shape enclosed roughly twenty-seven cubic miles of every imaginable facility from storage bays to five star hotels. There were docking facilities where ships could be housed and repaired as well as entertainment facilities to perform the same services for their crews.

The Accent Restaurant was a favorite of the more affluent tourists who were usually in the Myradonian system for the view of two nearby nebulae. One thousand years earlier, the sudden, almost simultaneous appearance of the two colorful formations as well as the somewhat suggestive impression given when one viewed them from a particular angle had turned the Myradonian system into quite a booming tourist location. This happened much to the dismay of Arne Lufkin, whose once idyllic little moon was soon overrun by visitors who found it almost as beautiful as the startling display that passed slowly overhead. The rude appearance of the nebulae had waned significantly over the years but their popularity had not.

Of course, no one could ignore the sight of Myradonia itself. The ringed gas giant was the largest and most spectacular of the six planets orbiting the star known simply as NGC314861. It was only natural that the more adventurous would be drawn to it. And it wasn't long before the lifeforms that had been discovered swimming in the upper atmosphere were joined by permanent human residence.

Over the course of those thousand years, the human inhabitants of Myradonia had taken advantage of controversial technology to force their evolution into a form capable of surviving unprotected within the deep and poisonous clouds. The process, widespread throughout human space was, some argued, the natural extension to terra-forming. Known colloquially as terran-forming, it opened up a far greater number of inhabitable worlds and enjoyed a great deal of support amongst the populace. Of course it also drew its share of detractors, purists who saw the deliberate alteration of the human form as an attempt at God playing. But, for many, the fear of God was not a tangible force in their lives, not like the lure of adventure and profit in the otherwise impossible to exploit environments of such alien worlds.

"They say that Sol system has a planet much like this one," Lorraine said. "with its magnificently complex rings. One of its moons is even said to've been the first space bodies terra-formed."

"Never been there," Senatore said absently as he watched the waitress make her way to their table. Not wanting to make a production out of his meal, he simply told the friendly young woman to bring him whatever Lorraine was having. He ignored the snicker this solicited from the other man.

"So, Septomus Senatore decides to live dangerously! Oh, I am sorry, I appear to have forgotten that being a Republic agent does come with some risk doesn't it? So have you been shot at by any tax delinquents lately?"

"No Duncan," Senatore said, not allowing his old friend to get a rise out of him. "But you should know my job isn't just about people who don't pay their taxes. In fact, I had a guy threaten me just a month ago. You may've heard of him, Derrick Torn?"

A dark looked crossed Lorraine's face briefly, followed by a quick, wide smile. "I have indeed heard of him. An arms smuggler, I believe. I hear he won't be smuggling much of anything anymore..." he paused with a nod toward Senatore. "Thanks to you."

"Well I can't take all the credit for putting him out of business," Senatore said, his voice full of pride. "I have an excellent team backing me up."

"Putting him out of business," Lorraine repeated, pondering the words. "That's an impressive understatement. The story I heard was that you and your team, what was the phase, 'blasted Torn and his ship to hell!'"

"We were only trying to keep him from getting away with a ton of Nitrogel!" Senatore said, defensively.

"Not to mention the five million Repcredits I hear you planned to pay him for the stuff. Your attempted sting was quite the stunning failure, wasn't it."

"Though I'm still not sure why the Nitro exploded," Senatore said, seemingly ignoring Lorraine's comment. "There were no detonators on that ship. But, of course, as long as it didn't end up in the hands of the terrorists on Ausqal, I guess it doesn't really matter. Funny thing about those credits, though," he added, his eyes boring into Lorraine's. "The chip they were on, the chip that I know was in Torn's possession when the chase began, was cashed in two weeks ago for the full amount."

"Interesting! But how could that be?" Lorraine asked, his face clearly holding an exaggerated look of surprise. "Wasn't it destroyed when you blew up Torn's ship?"

"It certainly should've been. But then there were those twenty minutes we spent passing through an asteroid field. There were plenty of moments when our view of the ship was blocked by one of the larger rocks. It's conceivable that a small one man vessel could've detached itself and remained hidden behind any one of them."

"You think Torn escaped with your money?"

Senatore shook his head. "No, Derrick Torn's remains were positively identified among what was left of his ship."

"So... one of his crew then?" Lorraine suggested.

"Maybe. But I doubt it. I just don't believe Torn would've trusted that kind of cash to any one besides himself."

"You're probably right," Lorraine paused, considering the matter. "Have you considered that perhaps someone else was on that ship. Someone Torn would not have suspected. Perhaps that person happened to get a hold of the credit chip and managed to get off the ship with it."

Senatore stared at his old friend, amazed by the way his mind worked. "You mean like... oh I don't know... maybe another big time smuggler? Someone Torn mistakenly entered into some sort of partnership with?"

Lorraine nodded with mild enthusiasm. "Yes, something like that."

"Which just proves that there is no honor among thieves," Senatore said caustically.

"I would not assume that. It might've been Torn who soured the deal. Perhaps this unknown partner was simply taking that which he felt was his due. And then again, perhaps it was this hypothetical partner who somehow rigged the ship to destroy itself," Lorraine suggested suddenly. "If you look at it from that perspective, the man would appear to have done you a service."

"In which case I should probably look upon the five million as credits well spent?"

Lorraine tipped his head, agreeing with the possible scenario. "All of this, of course, is purely hypothetical. I do not imagine you'll ever know what truly happened."

"Hypothetical or not, the chip was cashed. I know where, and I know when."

"Two weeks ago, you said."

"Yeah, two weeks ago yesterday, as a matter of fact. On Rismas."

Again. Lorraine's eyes widened in questionable surprise. "What a coincidence, as it happens, I was on Rismas two weeks ago yesterday."

"I know," Senatore said simply.

Lorraine looked at him silently for a moment then a huge grin spread across his face. Before he could speak, however, the waitress appeared with two glasses of water and two large bowls of a lumpy, grayish gel that smelled like nothing Senatore had ever smelled before. He stared at it mystified until the waitress had departed.

"What the hell is this?" he asked as, much to his horror, Lorraine scooped up a large flaccid spoonful and shoved it into his mouth. He noticed with disgust that the man never chewed the stuff. He just seemed to savor it briefly before swallowing it with a satisfied smile.

"This, Septomus," he said after sipping at his water. "is Myradonian Big Mouth soup. I find it quite rewarding to sample the native cuisine everywhere I go."

"Myradonian Big Mouth soup? I'll ask again. What the hell is this?"

Lorraine shook his head and sighed. "You really must get out more, Septomus.

"The Big Mouth," he continued. "is a species of Myradonian shark. Its body is small, but it has a rather large mouth with which it scoops up the tiny insects that swarm within the depths of the Myradonian atmosphere. I am told the soup is really quite easy to prepare," he went on as the look of revulsion grew on Senatore's face. "One simply heats it as this is what happens to the shark's body when it's brought out of the pressures of the deep atmosphere," he said playing in the ooze with his spoon, its rank steam wafting towards Senatore's tensed nostrils. "Come, come, Septomus. Be the brave defender of the faith we both know you are and try it," he said before consuming another mouthful.

Senatore decided he would stick with the glass of water that had been delivered with the meal.

"As I recall, you always were afraid to try new things," Lorraine said without malice, once it had become clear Senatore wasn't going to try the soup. "Do you recall the time you spent an entire afternoon attempting to get permission from your mother to spend the night at my house only to go running back home when you saw the stew that my mother had prepared for dinner? You were afraid to try that too."

Senatore couldn't stop his mind from travelling back to those days when he and Lorraine were growing up on Mojak Minor. He knew he couldn't deny the other's assertions regarding his reluctance to experiment. This was especially true when it came to food. Senatore vividly recalled the difficulties he'd endured those years in the young colony after their initial supplies had run out and they were forced to switch over entirely to what they could produce themselves. This had involved a great deal of experimentation. And, in his mind, there'd been a good many more failures than successes. The whole experience had served to narrow Senatore's point of view and erect for him a definitive line between good and bad or right and wrong.

"Yeah, Duncan, I remember," Senatore said frustratedly. "I also seem to remember a time when you didn't go out of your way to bring up such incidents. Just as I never brought up the times you used to break into the Waring's place and make off with samples of their leftover provisions because you didn't like your mother's cooking any more than I did."

"And you would refuse to touch any of it. We were good friends back then, weren't we?" Lorraine reflected wistfully.

"And now we don't even know each other, do we?" Senatore asked with unusual coolness.

"Oh I believe we do. I rather imagine, down inside, we are the same two individuals we were thirty years ago. Take you, for instance. You're remain afraid to try a new dish."

"And just how are you the same Duncan? What are you still doing?"

Lorraine smiled. "Well, I have no idea where the Waring's live these days so, if they are continuing to have trouble holding on to their supplies, you cannot accuse me."

"I guess you're right. We are still the same. You still refuse to take anything seriously."

"And you're remain too rigid to comprehend, Septomus. Has no one succeeded yet in encouraging you to lighten up?"

"This is light, Duncan. You don't want to see me when I get heavy," Senatore said, still just sipping at his water glass.

"Um hum," Lorraine said, managing to sound incredulous around a mouthful of gel. "You're referring to instances such as the time you 'got heavy' all over Benjamin Conrad?"

Senatore searched for the memory than frowned. "Benny Conrad was an idiot!" he said. "An idiot and a thief! First, he steals my father's aircar - on the night I had borrowed it to get to our graduation party. Then he has the gonads to try to sell me some of the stuff he found in the back seat! If he hadn't have been a friend of yours at the time..." Senatore finished by shaking his head.

"Well I will agree with you on that one. Benny was not particularly bright. And I believe he remained an idiot, as you called him, until the day he graduated from stealing personal aircars to actual starships. It would seem your rather aggressive attempt to teach him respect wasn't as effective as you had hoped."

"Yeah, piloting a starship through a dense planetary atmosphere was not the brightest thing Conrad ever did."

"And doing it at point one C without shields made sure it was the last thing he ever did," Lorraine added sourly.

Senatore shook his head again. "Just a couple of degrees deviation in his course and he would've killed thousands with his little stunt! The guy was a menace and deserved what he got!"

Lorraine's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "But Septomus, he was only a boy who'd made a fatal mistake while having a little fun. Not a very smart young man, we've established, but why must you take these things so personally?"

"Because somebody has to! That's why we have rules and laws."

"And people such as yourself to enforce them."

Senatore nodded. "The penal colonies are full of people who ignore the rules just 'having a little fun!' And don't forget the cemeteries, they're full of the innocent victims of those people!"

"There you go again, Septomus. Must you always get so worked up."

"Ya know, it occurs to me that, over the years, you developed quite a knack for gettin' me all worked up."

"Now you're just exaggerating. And placing the blame where it doesn't belong, I might add. If you became excited over things that I said or did it was because, as the years went by, you became more and more bad tempered."

"Having a normal healthy view of the difference between right and wrong doesn't make me bad tempered, Duncan."

Lorraine looked at Senatore sadly for a moment. "Well, at least we haven't yet reached a point where you refer to me only by my last name. I can remember when you always and only referred to me as Dunc."

"And I remember when you didn't talk like such a pretentious snob!"

Lorraine smiled, accepting the jibe. "That was a long time ago."

"And we've grown so far apart. Is that it?"

"We have traveled two completely different paths. Paths that were bound to cross at some point."

"So here we are at that intersection," Senatore said, suddenly sounding almost deathly serious. "Are you going to yield, or will there be a collision?"

Lorraine's eyes narrowed but, before he could respond, a young, aggressive looking man appeared at Senatore's side. Obviously uncomfortable, the man cleared his throat and waited for some acknowledgement from the agent.

"Yes, Nace, what do you have to report?" Nace looked coolly at Lorraine but remained silent. "Oh, it's all right, I really doubt that it'll affect our plans at this point if my old friend Mr. Lorraine hears them."

"I certainly can't imagine why it might," Lorraine stated innocently.

Nace's look got even colder as he turned himself to face Senatore directly.

"We've had all the ports covered since noon," the nervous man said. "The last shuttle has left for the atmosphere and-"

"And, obviously our man wasn't on board," Senatore finished for him. "So I guess you can send the local boys home and you and your men can go back to the hotel."

Clearly uneasy about something, Nace hesitated then said, "There is still the possibility of private charters. I've checked, there are four ships currently berthed that could leave for the surface at a moments notice. I think they should be kept under surveillance."

Senatore looked unhappily at Lorraine's amused expression. "I really doubt that there'd be any point in it. But..." he added as Nace looked about to object. "if it'll make you feel better, after you send the locals home, you and the guys can stake out the private ships."

Nace nodded but remained where he was.

"Is there something else, Lieutenant?"

"You will let me know when you are finished here? Cause..." Nace looked at Lorraine without finishing.

Senatore sighed, "Yes, Lieutenant, I will call you as soon as we've finished..." he frowned at the bowl in front of him. "As soon as we've finished our meal."

Giving the food a puzzled glance, Nace tipped his head to Senatore, threw a last dark look at Lorraine and was gone.

"What an odd young man," Lorraine commented. "So, hot on somebody's trail are you?" he asked. Swallowing the last spoonful of his Myradonian Big Mouth soup, he ignored the fact that Senatore was still staring at him distinctly unamused. "Weapons again? Or is it some exotic and dangerous new hallucinogen smuggled from some outer world that no one has ever heard of?"

"All right, Duncan, I'll play," Senatore sighed. "Genetic material. Illegal genetic material, harvested on Lutrim and brought here to aid in the Terran-forming of the Myradonians."

"Is that all?" Lorraine looked genuinely surprised. "A harmless substance such as that is enough to bring Senior Agent Septomus Senatore to the scene of an impending arrest? I find that difficult to believe."

"And that, Duncan, is why our paths have diverged to the extent that they have. You see the harvesting and transportation of a harmless little thing like some distant lifeform's DNA as too trivial for my attention. Whereas I see it as an act declared illegal by the courts and, therefore, a crime. And I see no such thing as a trivial crime. Each case, from the smuggling of DNA to the theft of a starship is an example of someone declaring that they are above the law. No one is. And those who believe they are and act on that belief, cannot be trusted to live within our society. Too many such examples and we would have no society."

"Or we might just have a very different society," Lorraine suggested with some sincerity. "A more tolerant society, perhaps. If we had a society where many of the basic rules that you love so much were different, who's to say whether that would be right or wrong?"

"I don't make those judgements, Duncan. The courts do. I just enforce their decisions."

"Yes, but it's so arbitrary, isn't it?" Lorraine countered. "If the courts decided tomorrow that transporting DNA was no longer illegal, you would no longer have a case against this individual you're stalking. Nothing would have changed, though, except for the moods of a few elderly men at Central. Old men who no longer lead so much as follow. The Purists have taken over!" Lorraine concluded with some small amount of passion sounding in his usually cool voice.

"Oh, now you're exaggerating, Duncan," Senatore said.

"Perhaps," the man replied, not truly conceding. "Perhaps they haven't actually taken over...yet. But they are most definitely making progress in their attempts to do so.

"They haven't been able to make terran-forming illegal," Lorraine continued. "But they've made it extremely difficult to acquire the necessary materials. Bowing to the Purists, the government now taxes the frequently required, very specialized equipment the Terran-formists need to visit other worlds. The Purists are doing a thorough job of persecuting the Terran-formists because they don't like them. How long before they begin going after what they'll call Terran-former sympathizers?"

"Don't you think you're overstating the situation just a little bit?" Senatore asked. "How do you imagine the Purists acquired the power to do what you suggest?"

Lorraine shook his head sadly. "So intelligent and yet so naive. How have you survived, Septomus?"

"That's no answer. I wanna hear you make your case!"

"The Purists get their support by playing on people's emotions and fears. And there are none more paranoid and easily manipulated than the powerful. I realize that sounds like a contradiction, but it is, nevertheless, the case. Those in control inevitably wish for more power. And while they scheme to acquire that power, they jealously guard their own from those who would scheme to take it from them. And that is where the quiet ones, the ones behind the scenes - such as the Purists - enter the game. Through clever manipulation of census data and misinformation, they convince their intended target that they actually represent large masses of population. They claim to bring with them generous slices of the power so desperately craved. When all along, they are leaching away what power the victim originally had. And all without anyone realizing it was being done."

"You realize, of course, how paranoid you sound?" Senatore asked. "And I thought you were a cynic twenty years ago. Who would've imagined it could get worse?"

"We always did have two completely different takes on the way the universe operates. I suppose only time will tell whose is the more realistic."

"Maybe," Senatore said indifferently. "But that hypothetical Judgement Day isn't here yet and so it's irrelevant. What's real now is the law and my vow to uphold it."

"Even when it is a bad or pointless law?" Duncan asked, sounding more sincere than he had all evening.

"I'm not in a position to judge the laws I enforce. Surely you can see that for me to do so, would be the same as my saying I was above the law. Which would make me no better than the criminals I arrest."

"Is it okay for one group of people to judge another based on their own narrow ideals? And then to judge those people so harshly that they call for the enactment of laws just to restrict those they hate? I say there is something fundamentally wrong with a society whose ethics allow such a thing!"

"This isn't about ethics, Duncan" Senatore said calmly.

"Isn't it?" Lorraine asked. "Is that not what you're all about? You were always so concerned with right and wrong. But when we were young, it was about morality. Now something's changed in you. Morality and ethics are no longer an issue. Only the rules set down by a band of amoral old men who haven't the sense to know that they are no longer even in control."

"I know what this is all about, Duncan. You always were the cynic when it came to authority figures. You didn't even trust your parents."

"Who do you think turned me in to the Warings?" Lorraine almost laughed. "Sure, now I understand their actions, but how is a boy supposed to trust his parents after that?"

"And you always took things so personally."

"No, Septomus, that was you. You were the one who took every action by those around you as an attack on your personal integrity. You've shored up that wall of pride so well you can not see anything beyond it. The courts have decided - so far - that a person has the right to alter their own body in any way they see fit. But then they bowed to the Purists and have enacted laws making it impossible to acquire the materials necessary to effect that change! A clear case of a minority inflicting its values upon others through arbitrary legislation! But you do not have a problem with that! No, what you have a problem with is the honest people who can not, in good conscience, simply obey that legislation!"

"You can rationalize it all you want, Duncan," Senatore said, unaffected by Lorraine's words. "But the harvesting of DNA from non-sentients for the purpose of terran-forming is still illegal. And, by transporting it through space from one system to another, you have committed the crime of smuggling. And no amount of rationalization will change that."

"I believe the appropriate response would be something like... you'll never take me alive, copper!" Lorraine said in a strangely affected voice. Senatore stared at him, uncomprehendingly. "A line from ancient literature," Lorraine explained. "Its meaning is something to the effect of, 'I won't allow you arrest me, officer. Not that I have a clue as to what you are talking about."

"Duncan, we've known each other far too long for you to start insulting my intelligence. I-"

"If you believe that, then you haven't paid attention to a word I've said to you...ever" Lorraine interrupted, apparently still unwilling to take the situation seriously.

"I had hoped to catch you in the act of moving the DNA through customs," Senatore continued, ignoring the remark. "thereby cementing the smuggling charge. As it is, however, I may have to be satisfied with simple possession. Not that I would really get any pleasure out of arresting you," he added almost sadly.

"Of course not. Just as I will draw none from seeing your face as you fail to prove you charge."

"Your bags were searched and you haven't been out of sight of at least two of my men since you left Lutrim, so you've had no opportunity to ditch the merchandise. Which means you must still have it with you.

"Now, I realize we're talking an extremely small package," Senatore continued. "Which could be hidden in any number of creative places, but I assure you, we have some very sophisticated methods for finding such things."

"No doubt you have. And I am certain you can not wait to try each and every one of them on me. You're welcome to do so."

"You're bluffing," Senatore said confidently.

"No. But I am wondering which concerns me more, Septomus. The fact that you would accuse me of such a thing. Or that you would have so low an opinion of my abilities were I to engage in such an activity."

"So you're saying you believe you could still get the material passed me and my men?"

"I'm saying - and this is purely hypothetical, of course, as I am quite innocent - if it had been my plan to smuggle illegal DNA samples to the atmosphere of Myradonia, the material would already be there."

A chill ran through Senatore as a glimmer of doubt tickled his mind. What if he were already too late?

"I don't think so," he said with as much conviction as he could muster. "You've been under constant surveillance since you left Lutrim. You traveled alone. You made small talk with no one, touched no one and, aside from bodily waste, left nothing behind anywhere."

"You searched the restrooms I visited as well?" Duncan asked disgusted.

Senatore nodded. "Thoroughly. And, I'm afraid, had you been generous enough to buy the photo that kid took of you when you got off the ship here, we would've picked up and searched him too," Senatore said, watching Duncan as he apparently struggled to even recall the incident. During the pause, the waitress made an appearance and began to clear away their dishes. Lorraine raised his glass to indicate he would like a refill. Senatore did the same.

"You are a cruel bastard aren't you, Septomus?" Lorraine said once the young lady was gone, a thin smile on his face.

"I do what I must."

"And you believe that to the very depths of your being," Lorraine said with a profound air. "That's what makes it so sad seeing you do this so badly. You sit there smugly believing that you've caught yourself some big criminal. Well, how about you pay for our meal and then you can take me downtown - or wherever. You can search me in all your sophisticated ways and, when you find nothing, I'll accept your apology and we can part as friends. I will not even hold a grudge."

"I still believe you're bluffing," Senatore said, though Lorraine could see his resolve had weakened. "There is simply no way you could've already delivered the goods."

"Ah... so blind in your determination. So naïve in your view of the universe. And we won't even talk about how ignorant you and your friends are in the field of genetics."

"Oh please," Senatore said. "Enlighten me."

The conversation paused again as the waitress delivered their drinks. Lorraine nodded his thanks to the young girl and waited as Senatore sipped distastefully at his water.

"You're not going to like this, Septomus, but, even if I were involved with the inhabitants of this planet, I would not necessarily be required to break any laws in order to bring them what they needed."

"This should be interesting," Senatore said incredulously.

"You see," Lorraine continued, ignoring the agent's doubts. "The assumption you and your compatriots are making is that actual samples of DNA must be carried and delivered. It's as though you believe the material will simply be loaded into some type of hypodermic injector and distributed evenly amongst those thousands of individuals who wish to reshape themselves."

"A sample of the DNA is required so a copy can be made," Senatore explained to show off his knowledge. "That much I do know!"

"DNA is a code, Septomus. A code that can be read and rendered in any number of ways.

"Take this tunic for example," Lorraine continued, jabbing at the top half of the rather loud outfit he wore. "You probably see nothing more than a random splattering of color. And, by your expression, I gather you find the effect distasteful." Senatore nodded and Lorraine proceeded undeterred. "However others, myself included, find this shirt to be a positive fashion statement. Still others," he paused to give affect to his words. "Others might look at theses multi-colored spots and find some pattern. I would even be willing to wager that some enterprising individual could divine something quite meaningful from that pattern. Perhaps he could even read the pattern as though it were some sort of writing."

Senatore shook his head. "Are you trying to tell me that the DNA sample is somehow encoded into those horrendous spots on your shirt?"

"No, I am simply saying that someone with enough imagination could read just about anything anywhere if they were to try hard enough. The right person could probably convince you that he can find the entire text of Shakespeare's Richard III within the pattern of this shirt. Oh look, here is another of those young photographers that so like to frequent these tourist establishments. Perhaps I should purchase a photo of the two of us."

"So then you're saying I should confiscate your shirt?" Senatore asked, ignoring Lorraine's last comments.

"You know, it's quite astounding to me just how advanced the art of photography has become. Take for instance the rather inexpensive camera that boy is carrying."
Senatore gave in and turned, reluctantly, to view the youth in question. The young man, all of about eight, was accepting payment from a couple sitting close together on one side of a small booth. The boy handed the man a diskette and moved on to the next occupied table. "That camera of his," Lorraine continued. "can take a near life-like photo then, within seconds, turn around and project the result as a two dimensional hologram of unmatched detail and clarity. It also utilizes a wide variety of adjustable light frequencies for its flash. This makes it safe for use on the many varied human races that exist today. For example, someone who has... say... altered the chemistry of his skin for life on Tranis, this individual would look quite sickly under the bright light of an ordinary flash. However, this same person would look truly stunning if an increased ultra-violet component were added.

"Of course, the photographer must take great care to be sure his flash is set correctly. That heavy ultra-violet would seriously injure a tourist from Gan. Even a person's clothing can be affected by a careless flash." Lorraine saw that he now had Senatore's rapt attention. "Did you know there are certain dyes that are invisible under normal lighting? Dyes that can only be viewed when exposed to the proper frequency. There are also dyes that can be damaged by the incorrect light. So one color that can only be seen under certain circumstances might also be totally eradicated by another, leaving absolutely no trace." Lorraine watched Senatore's eyes bounce from his shirt to his face. Before either could speak, however, the man Nace reappeared at his master's side as if from nowhere. Handing a small display chip to his superior, he did not look happy.

Using the generic code, Senatore cued the chip and read its contents. "It's from Quentin Nore down on Myradonia," he told Lorraine.

"Oh... and he would be...?"

Senatore shot him a dirty look but continued. "He's thanking me personally for the safe arrival of the genetic code his people need to complete their transformation." He looked up at Nace. "Where did you get this?"
Looking at Lorraine with anger burning in his eyes, the man said, "Some kid walked right up to me as I was watching one of the private vessels. He just walked right up to me, handed me the chip, said ''For your Boss!' and took of into the crowd."

Gratified, Lorraine saw awareness dawn in Senatore's eyes
"The photograph you refused to buy!" the agent said. "The shirt! No! I refuse to believe it! The boy took a picture of your shirt... You knew we would be watching so you made sure you gave nothing away that might contain the DNA! But the picture made it, unchallenged, onto the next shuttle!"
This time, Lorraine was shaking his head. "Septomus, you can not be serious! We were simply playing a thought game. I've told you, I know nothing of this whole smuggling affair."

"You did it!" Senatore said, "Congratulations, Duncan, you beat me! You were stretching it a bit when you said no laws were broken. Maybe no illegal substance was transported, but the code was still retrieved illegally. And, had I been able to catch you in possession of it, I still could've put you away as an accessory. At least long enough to ruin your reputation as a smuggler. You would never've worked again, that's for sure!"

"Septomus...Septomus...Septomus. I hate to burst your happy little bubble but you're wrong. I have done nothing."

"It's all right, Duncan. You're in the clear...this time. Just accept my congratulations graciously. But remember... I will be watching you in the future!" Senatore started to rise from his chair.

"Very well, Septomus. Whatever you say. "However, you can not leave just yet," Lorraine said, gesturing to the young cameraman who still wondered amongst the patrons. "I may never again share a moment like this with you," he said to Senatore. "I would truly like a photograph. You must join us as well, Nace," Lorraine grabbed the bitter man's arm and actually pulled him to his side as he leaned in toward Senatore. Reluctantly, the agent leaned forward as well. Feeling he was being mocked in some way, Senatore made no attempt to look friendly for the camera as the flash went off, dazzling him with it's brilliance.

Lorraine handed the boy a credit chip and took the one containing the ridiculous photo. As he reached to pocket it, however, he paused and held it toward Senatore.

"Perhaps you'd like to confiscate this as evidence," he said sarcastically. "You never know, the first one may not have copied correctly," he suggested.

For just a second, Senatore hesitated. Then he smiled and stood, hiding his frustration rather well Lorraine thought. "No, Duncan. You keep it. As a reminder. I won't forget this incident. I don't want you to either. It's the only time you will win."

"I am truly distressed that you see us as adversaries, Septomus. However, I will not hold it against you."

"Would any of you kind gentleman like another photo?" the boy asked as he realized two of his marks were preparing to leave. "Perhaps one for the little woman?"

"Move along, kid, before I run you in for vagrancy!" Nace said gruffly. The man was clearly not happy about leaving empty-handed.

"You ought to do something special for your man here, Septomus. I believe he deserves it after the hard day he's had." Lorraine said as though advising a parent.

"For your sake, Duncan, I'm going to take him away from here now before someone gets hurt," the agent said pointedly. "Until we meet again..." This time, Senatore took Nace by the arm and literally pulled him away from the table and out of the restaurant, leaving Lorraine alone with his smile and his view.

Lorraine turned his gaze toward the window once more to see the majestic bulk of Myradonia. "Here's to you," he said, tipping his glass of water toward the distant and invisible inhabitants. And, here's to you! He whispered watching the young photographer's reflection as he made his way toward the door of the restaurant. Lorraine couldn't help but be impressed by the calm confidence the boy displayed as he headed into the crowded corridor carrying his precious cargo contained within the credit chip Lorraine had just given him. My God, he thought as his eyes returned to the planet below. I love this job!

The End

Copyright c)2001 David Peterson