Lungfish Alpha
Episode 2
By: Matthew Campbell

"For just one moment / I'm the king of the world."
Blackhawk, "KING OF THE WORLD"


     Itsuko blew out a quick breath of air, feeling warm.  With a 
thought, she tapped into the environmental controls through her 
headware and dropped the room's temperature 5 degrees.  It didn't 
help much, and she had to admit that her discomfort wasn't being 
caused by her environment.  It was the gentlebeings seated around 
the table in front of her.

     Amelia Bayushi, her supposed second-in-command, floated near 
one edge of the table, just high enough to put her head over that of 
anyone else in the room.  She continually fidgeted, rotating slowly 
in the air.

     Em, Lungfish Alpha's chief of security, lounged back in his chair 
with a bored look upon his face.  Itsuko found herself starting to 
pick out each individual thread of color on his carefully tailored 
suit, before she managed to tear her eyes away.

     Samuelle, the most recent introduction, sat perfectly still.  The 
vacant look in hir eyes said she found something on hir headware to 
be much more interesting than what hir new boss was about to talk 
about.

     The final attendee of the meeting didn't have a physical presence 
at all.  Still, Itsuko could feel the sobmee's attention focused on the 
room.  She wondered briefly if hiring Faarts had been a mistake.

     Itsuko was about to make her very first major policy decision.  
She might have butterflies in the bottom of her stomach, but she 
had to admit it was more exciting than putting together puzzles.

     Taking out a pad, Itsuko threw it onto the middle of the table.  
"I've been making a list of improvements this station needs.  Power 
supply, defenses, better food- It all comes down to one thing.  
Money.  And I think I know a way to bring in some revenue around 
here."

     Itsuko paused a moment, pleased to see that she now had 
everyone's attention.  Even Faarts had manifested a small 
holographic image in one corner of the room.  She continued, "Did 
you ever wonder why they called this place Lungfish Alpha?"

     "Because it's a primitive lifeform that looks ridiculous?"  There 
was a certain trembling tone to Samuelle's voice, despite the 
challenging nature of hir words. He sounded young, as if hir 
bluntness came from lack of confidence rather than confidence.

     A large droplet of sweat formed on Itsuko's forehead, hung 
there for a long moment, and then dropped to the ground with a 
quiet splash.  Yet another gengineered legacy from her parents.  
"No.  At least, not as far as I can tell and I've been researching 
some of the cliorical datacores.  Remember that back in the time 
LA was being built, space stations were still considered adjutants to 
planets.  It wasn't until after the square-cubed law was cracked that 
they began to appear as independent states."

     "Sure.  Sure I remember that," said Em in the voice of one who 
hasn't studied cliology since primary education several decades 
before.

     "Anyway, a lungfish is a type of animal from old earth.  Though 
primarily a water-breather, when it exhausts the food available to it 
in one pond, it's capable of dragging itself over land a short distance 
to reach another body of water where there are more resources.  I 
think this station was built the same way; so that it could move to 
wherever area of space it's needed.  That's why Lungfish Alpha was 
built with a FTL drive and propulsion system.  It can move.  Maybe 
not quickly, maybe not gracefully, but it can move."  Itsuko grinned 
triumphantly, waiting for their reaction.

     There was a long silence, and then Em clicked at his teeth and 
said, "So we're going to try to sell the propulsion system?"

     Gengineered reflexes dumped Itsuko briefly on the floor.  
Getting back up, she said, "No!  We're going to move the station!"

     The reactions were varied.  Faarts let loose with a long, low 
whistle of disbelief.  Em shook his head slightly, but otherwise 
seemed to take it in stride.  Samuelle whispered, "Move... the 
station?  We've always been here..."

     It was Amelia who chose to respond directly.  Floating closer to 
Itsuko, the spacius said, "Listen, Kaiu-san.  The station hasn't been 
moved in over 230 terran years.  And the owner during that time, 
Kinnison, ended up getting shanghaied into some kind of Galactic 
Patrol to pay off the accumulated navigational fines.  After all this 
time, there's no guarantee the wormhole generator will even work!"

     Itsuko held up a hand.  "We can't let ourselves be stopped by 
possible problems.  He who hesitates is lost.  I haven't gotten where 
I am today by looking before I leap."  She took a long pause to 
consider this last sentence.

     Finally she continued, "I caught on the news that Babel 5 station 
in the Sigma sector vanished recently.  That's the fourth time in as 
many tears, and nobody's going to want to pay to have another one 
rebuilt.  Sigma sector is at the crossroads of some major trading 
routes for the Eastern half of this galaxy, and we could set 
ourselves up as a clearinghouse and way stop if we can get Alpha 
there."

     Samuelle spoke, hir voice flat.  "We could all be in serious 
trouble if you're wrong.  A quick estimate shows that moving the 
station that distance would use up approximately 73% of our 
energy budget for next year."

     Faarts added, "I know I'm the new kid on the block, toots, even 
newer than you.  I think Greenbean is right, though."

     Itsuko stamped her foot.  "You have to take risks to make 
money, everyone knows that.  If I'm going to make a difference 
here, I can't think small!  We're doing it, and that's final.  Now I 
expect you all to go and start making preparations- not you, 
Samuelle.  If you're really the head of the civil service, I've got 
something else for you."

     And on that unsatisfactory note, the meeting adjourned.

          **********

     The station's head of security subvocalized to himself as he 
composed the message on his headware.  "Brave new era in station 
history.... minimal discomfort.... no excuse for lawless behavior."

     The flat tone of a vocoder interrupted his thoughts.  "Something 
up, chief?  You look tense, like a good day at the office."

     Startled, Em stored the message in his draft folder and looked 
about.  After a moment, he realized he had been addressed by the 
synch fiddling with the wall panel next to him.  "Oh, it's you 
Curious."  He stopped, a little embarrassed at having used the neo-
chimpanzee's nickname to his face.

     "Call me George," said the vocoder, conveying not a hint of 
irritation.

     Good old Curious, Em thought to himself.  A solid monkey, not 
one to take offense like some of those too-sensitive synchs you met 
sometimes.  He managed to forget that the vocoder probably 
wouldn't have conveyed much even if George had been in a furious 
rage.

     Leaning back against the wall slightly, Em said, "I know you 
lowerdeck boys are always the last to hear, so I'll give you a bit of a 
treat just this once.  Our new owner, the lady Kaiu, is planning on 
moving the station to a more profitable sector of space.  I'll be 
sending out a stationwide message broadcast later, but for right 
now-  Ah, wait a bit."

    Em looked eagerly out across the chamber in which he and 
George had been talking.  It was one of the mid-sized rooms on the 
station, bigger the average run of corridors, but not one of the 
village-sized cavities the casinos huddled in.  It was a place used by 
Alpha's residents for mingling and entertainment, for those times 
when your home corridor just got too cramped.

     Just at the moment it was even more crowded than usual, as a 
squad of Em's MIP's were pushing in crowds of Quatters from one 
of the adjoining corridors.  They had been at this for several 
minutes, and quite a healthy mob had formed.  Seeing his moment, 
Em waved a casual dismissal at George and strode out to a 
moderately raised area in the center of the room.

     "I suppose you're all wondering why I've called you here today.  
As you may have guessed from prior experience, I have an 
announcement to make."  Em chuckled, but the crowd merely 
looked bored and slightly hostile.  "Now this will be going out in a 
general mail later, but we all know headware can be a bit... let's say 
unreliable, for some of you.  So if you would all look at the flashing 
light please?"

     Em slipped a small black rod out of his pocket with a red 
guidelight on the end.  The more experienced of the crowd shielded 
their eyes, but most were caught when a bright burst of purest 
white light emitted from the end of the rod.  Em and his men were 
protected by their automatic retina shields, of course.

     "There, that will ensure that everything that happens in the next 
five minutes or so will remain in your permanent memory.  You'll 
never forget, even if you want to.  The announcement is as follows:  
Within the next two days, our new owner, Itsuko Kaiu, will be 
using wormhole technology to move Lungfish Alpha to Sigma 
sector.  Those who with to remain in our present area of space and 
possess the means to disembark should begin packing immediately.  
Those of you who don't have the resources to leave.... Well at least 
we'll be seeing some new scenery."

     There was a low groan from the crowd.  Em added a hasty 
follow-up.  "Remember that 'least safe form of interstellar travel' is 
a relative term.  Each year thousands of wormhole passages are 
made in perfect safety, with no disappearances at all.  Now please 
remember to spread the word to all those who either don't have 
access to headware or fail to check it regularly.  Remember, a well-
informed public is a safe public.  That is all."

     With a gesture (and a brief radio message on internal frequency) 
Em commanded his men to disperse the crowd.  Not that anyone 
seemed very eager to stay anyway.

     As he retreated to his office, a flat voice commented, "Moving 
the station, eh?"

     Startled, Em realized that George was still there fiddling with 
the panel.  Amusingly, he seemed to be sticking needles of some 
sort inside it.  The superstitions these synchs had.  "Don't worry a 
bit George.  This station's been through tougher before."

     George nodded affably.  "The lady has a lot of life in her yet, I 
think.  No worries."

          **********

     Scowling, Samuelle stalked.  That is, she stood frowning in a 
patch of specially prepared soil under a full-spectrum lamp and 
thought like a tree.  Small tendrils from hir feet leached nutrients 
from the soil.  Quatters passed up and down the corridor outside hir 
alcove.  Some spared a glance of brief curiosity, but no one 
lingered.  No one wanted to upset one of the children of notorious 
criminal Hugh.

     Samuelle would have welcomed the excuse to yell at someone.  
Photosynthesizing wasn't calming hir the way it normally did.  
Inside hir head, Samuelle raged about the task Itsuko had set hir to.  
Imagine the nerve of that spore, giving Samuelle an assignment as 
those the child of Hugh were going to answer to anyone.

     If he had been able to be a bit more honest with hirself, Samuelle 
would have admitted that it wasn't the assignment that truly had hir 
so upset.  That would be a welcome change from the monotony of 
the civil service job hir father had placed hir in only two weeks 
before.  Maybe it was an opportunity to learn how real theft 
worked, but here in a place where there was nothing worth stealing, 
it was all mindless tedium. At least the assignment would let hir yell 
at people and bully them a bit, if she played hir cards right.

     No, the real thing upsetting Samuelle was this.. this insane idea 
of moving the station.  Samuelle was a native of Alpha, a true-
orange quatter.  He had lived on the station ever since hir 'birth', 
when Hugh had taken hir home from the genilab.  Alpha's greatest 
flaw and its greatest virtue was that nothing every changed.  Sure it 
was a miserable place to live, but at least it was _consistently_ 
miserable.  The previous owner had by happy to avoid making 
waves, instead devoting all time to unloading the place on some 
poor unfortunate.

     Even though Samuelle counted the days until she could leave 
this place and grasp the galaxy like a ripe kumquat, somehow she 
had always just assumed that Alpha would remain perfectly the 
same.  It was silly, but Samuelle was getting the feeling one gets 
when a friend moves away for the first time or a loved pet dies.  It 
was the knowledge that nothing lasts forever.  Somehow in all his 
lectures on crime, Hugh had never managed to teach hir that.

     The next effect of all this was that Samuelle was in an extremely 
bad mood.  So he didn't appreciate it at all when a maintenance 
drone poked its sensor around the corner and said, "Hiyah, 
Greenbean."

     Samuelle might have been a bit inexperienced, but she wasn't 
stupid.  Maintenance drones normally buzzed mindlessly around the 
station, fixing literally millions of minor faults and calling the 
maintenance staff when they encountered something their 
programming couldn't handle.  They didn't normally address one, 
and there was only one possible explanation why this one would.  
The sobmee.  By now it must have extended its reach through every 
part of the station's network.

     "Go away Faarts.  I'm not in the mood to answer some spore's 
questions about Alpha."

     "Hey, hey, hey.  I can do the tour myself, Greenbean.  Already 
did it weeks ago, my time anyway.  I just thought you might enjoy a 
little friendly conversation, get to know the co-workers and all 
that."  The sobmee sounded faintly hurt, but any vocal nuances 
were of course entirely an affectation.

     "If we 'get to know each other' it will happen soon enough 
through unavoidable interaction on the job.  I have better things to 
do than chat with a sobmee that had to scrape the bottom of the 
galaxy's barrel to find work."

     "I might point out that you live here yourself," came Faarts near-
immediate comeback.  It was less impressive if one realized that 
was literally the best he could do after hours of subjective time to 
think about it.

     By contrast, Samuelle didn't need half a second to respond, "I 
was born here.  What's your excuse?  What's a sobmee, any 
sobmee, doing in a place like Alpha?"

     "Ah-ha.  That's for me to know and you to find out, Greenbean.  
Since you don't seem in the mood for a little friendly prattle, I'll 
take my uniquely soothing brand of wit elsewhere."  And with that 
the drone flew away out of sight.

     Samuelle settled back on hir roots, finally managing to relax 
now that she had yelled at someone.  The relaxation was short-lived 
when a message downloaded itself into hir headware.

From: MIP@LAsecurity.org
To: all@lungfishalpha.com
Subject: New census being taken....

     "I'll kill him!  I'll kill him!" yelled Samuelle as he struggled to 
uproot hirself hurriedly.

          **********

     It was difficult for Itsuko to sort out where generator left off 
and kumquat began.  Hundreds of drones swarmed over the 
massive machinery, lasering off more kumquat-flesh with every 
passing second. Still, much of the operative equipment was still 
imbedded in the station's fleshy substance.

     "That's what happens when you leave something sitting in Alpha 
for a hundred years or so," said Amelia in response to Itsuko's 
questions.  "The station just kind of grows around it.  We're lucky I 
remembered about where it used to be located."

     Itsuko was looked at Amelia carefully.  The spacious had 
sounded like she had actually been there to see the last time the 
wormhole generator had been uncovered.  With Leonization that 
was perfectly possible, but usually older folks let you know it, no 
matter what their physical age.

     She broke off the speculation, seeing a familiar multi-colored 
form.  "George!  I'm glad to see someone who knows what he's 
doing is in charge of this operation."

     George gave a small bow.  "Oh, a lowly technician such as 
myself wouldn't be in charge of this operation, ma'am."

     Baffled, Itsuko gestured at the small crowd of technicians who 
had been taking directions from George only moments before.  
"You seem to be on top of things to me."

     George extended a long chimpanzee finger in the air.  "Only 
filling in for Farley, the station's gengineer."

  "So why isn't he here?"

     George looked from one side to the other.  "Actually he has a 
bit of a problem with sobriety, Itsuko.  But don't tell anyone I told 
you."

     "You mean he drinks?"

     "No, I mean he's SOBER.  You know, scrubs the chemicals and 
hormones out of his brain.  Makes it hard to care about anything."

     Itsuko suffered a sore temptation to fire Farley on the spot.  
Still, she had probably made enough quick decisions for a while, she 
reasoned.  Better to wait until she actually met the man.

     Changing the subject, she asked, "So how is the work going?"

     "Oh fine, fine.  The tricky part is going to be when we clear to 
the old inside boundary and then have to turn around and unpeel 
the focusing array from the outside.  I'll probably have to get in a 
suit and supervise the boys outside."  George didn't seem too 
distressed by the product.

     "Maybe I could join you?  I always used to love going for walks 
outside at home."

     George nodded his head approvingly.

     "And maybe you could tell me a little more about the station.  
I've been trying to research some of it's cliology, but I haven't had a 
lot of luck with the oldest records."

     For a long moment George's face and body conveyed a 
combination of shock, fear, and worry.  Fortunately, only another 
synch could have interpreted his body language.  Before he could 
compose a reply, they were interrupted.

     "Did you say you were going outside?"  Amelia floated over to 
Itsuko, ignoring George.

     "Thinking about it, why?"

     "On, nothing," said Amelia.  "I'm just surprised that you can 
stand it out there.  Cold, empty, no air.  Makes me all twitchy 
inside."

     "But... but you're a spacius.  You were designed to operate in 
space.  You can't be afraid of it!"

     Amelia rotated to look at Itsuko with her favored eye.  "If 
you're here long enough, ma'am, you'll learn that people don't end 
up on Lungfish Alpha if they're what they're supposed to be."

          **********

     Em grunted as Samuelle slammed his body up against the wall.

     "You idiot, do you have to go around mass-mailing the station 
with every piddling detail that crosses your path?  Cannot you 
exercise the slightest hint of a tinge of discretion?"

     Despite being held off his feet, Em managed to gasp, "A well-
informed public is a safe public."

     Samuelle dumped Em back on the ground and turned away.  "I 
should have known better than to expect anything coherent from 
you.  Why didn't you just become a journalist in the first place?"

     Coughing, Em got to his feet.  "One, I don't know why you 
would care if I let everyone know about your little census project in 
the first place.  Two, I wouldn't have shown you any consideration 
even if I had known you wanted it kept quiet.  I don't like Hugh, 
and I don't like all the little Hughlets like you he's training up to 
plague the universe with."

     "Why did I want it kept quiet?  Because I didn't want to deal 
with HIM until I was ready."  She pointed at a very determined-
looking Arnold Lee, who was steaming down the corridor towards 
hir.

     "What's this about Kaiu trying to exploit the citizens of this 
great metropolis?" he demanded in a squeaky voice.

     Samuelle slapped a hand over hir face and sighed deeply into it.

     Itsuko's initiative wasn't really a bad idea, when you got down to 
it.  To improve the economy, you needed to create jobs.  To know 
what sorts of industry to support to create those jobs, you needed 
to know what people could do.

     Lungfish Alpha received refugees from all over Known Space.  
They were people so desperate, so worn, so non-conforming that 
they ended up in the bottom of civilization's barrel.  It seemed 
vaguely possible that some of them might still have useful talents, 
but in the bland kumquat interior of Lungfish Alpha, there was no 
way to put them to use.

     Beyond that, just a firm knowledge of Alpha's population would 
be enormously useful in all sorts of future planning.  Planning for 
the future hadn't been a high priority with the previous 
administration, but it was clear Itsuko had a different agenda.

     So, she had ordered a census.  Just a minimum amount of 
information about each citizen, gathered as quickly as possible. 
Samuelle, as the head of the civil service, was the obvious one to 
oversee and implement.

     Samuelle looked up from hir hand briefly.  Lee was still going.  
"In each of my lifetimes, I've seen tyrants come and go, but-"  He 
looked back down again.

     Of course, there were complications.  Lee, for one.  The man 
was so desperate to flex his political muscle, he'd jump on anything, 
no matter how harmless.  In Samuelle's admittedly inexperienced 
opinion, the fact that he hadn't reacted to news of the station's 
move probably just meant he saw more political capital to be gained 
by complaining about it afterwards, when it had seriously begun to 
annoy people.  Frankly, Samuelle didn't quite know how to deal 
with someone who yelled at hir.  She yelled at people, not the other 
way around.  That was the natural order of things.

     That was odd.  Lee seemed to have stopped talking.

     Samuelle looked up to see hir verbal assailant twirling rapidly in 
midair.  Further back she saw the cause of this.  Akira, the psychic, 
stood with his arms crossed, a smug expression on his face.  He 
shrugged and said, "Just got tired of listening to him yap."

     Lee protested that he was an important man and Akira couldn't 
do this.  The psychic replied, "Your bad vibes are giving me a 
headache, Arnold.  As one of those citizens you say you're 
protecting, I say this census ain't such a bad idea."

     "Ah, you think everything's a good idea, Akira," said Lee, 
climbing off his high horse for a moment.

     "Two words for you, man.  Voter registration."

     Lee sighed and visibly relaxed as Akira released the 
psychokinteitc field and lowered him to the ground.  "I suppose 
you're right.  It's the Charles in me, I guess.  Always makes me 
want to spout off at the first opportunity."  Trying to look dignified, 
he nodded briefly in Samuelle's direction and walked off.

     "You're welcome," said Akira to Samuelle.

     "I didn't say thank-you!"

     Akira smirked.  "But you were thinking it.  I know."

     "Was not," said Samuelle feeling incredibly childish.

     "I know."  Akira grimaced and clutched his head in pain.  "Bad 
vibrations, Greenbean.  I gotta go."  And he vanished, with a 
sudden pop of inrushing air.

     Samuelle frowned.  He didn't like it.  He didn't like owing 
anyone or having been dependent on anyone.  It went against 
everything hir Dad had taught hir.

     Still, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to seek a little assistance 
with the project.  On hir terms, of course.

          **********

     Ten thousand drones, a large proportion of the station's supply, 
swarmed over the wormhole generator.  This was the moment of 
truth.

     "Will it work?" asked Itsuko, trying not to fidget in impatience.

     "A bit corroded, but everything scans in working order, babe," 
echoed Faarts voice from all corners of the large bay.  "Unless of 
course, I missed something.  Sheesh this transdimensional 
technology stuff is hard."

     "But you've got virtual hours every real-time second to study," 
protested Itsuko.

     "Yeah, but I hate studying.  I usually just cram at the last 
minute."

     Itsuko groaned, and George gently patted her side.  "There, 
there.  I've checked the thing over, and I think there's a very good 
chance it'll work."

     "A GOOD CHANCE?!"

     "What more can you expect with technology this old, that's gone 
without maintenance for this long?"

     Amelia, who was floating on Itsuko's other side, remarked, "It's 
been a good, long life.  I have no-  Well I have a few regrets, but 
there's not much I can do about them either way."

     "Stop being so fatalistic!" ordered Itsuko, with all the force of 
her recent sugar binge behind the shout.

     Amelia let just a hint of a smile loose.  "Yes ma'am."

     A bulletin arrived in Itsuko's headware that a criminal had just 
been sighted on C-deck.  She sighed and made a mental note to tell 
Em to cut back on the bulletins.

     Well, nothing to do but give it a go.  Seeing that Faarts had 
given the all-clear, Itsuko inputted her command codes and told the 
station to initiate wormhole sequence.

     Blue energy flowed forth from the generator, gradually 
increasing in energy and radiance.  On the viewscreen showing the 
space outside, there was a ripple in the vacuum.  A slowly 
increasing keen vibrated through the ether, while somehow not 
moving the molecules of the air.

     Everything appeared to be going according to plan.  And then it 
wasn't.

     Without warning the energy shifted spectra's, becoming a 
ghastly blood-red.  The keen became a physical thing, shaking the 
very bones of every one of the station's occupants.

     George calmly said, "Well  that's it.  We failed to completely 
puncture the universal membrane, and now if we're lucky, the 
generator will burn out before it gets too far.  If we're very unlucky, 
the flex is going to do unfortunate things to our internal energies.... 
not to mention the molecules of our bodies.  I never thought it 
might end like this, but in a way I'm kind of glad.  I never really 
trusted those bastards anyway."

     Amelia added, "In the words of the eighty-third owner, just 
before we put him in front of the firing squad, 'I wish I could say it 
had been a pleasure knowing you.'"

     "No way!" protested Itsuko. "I am NOT going to fail my first 
time out at anything important.  This station IS going to arrive stay 
in one piece."

     Stomping over to the generator, she began kicking it.  "Work, 
you stupid thing!  Work!  Work, work, work!"  With a final cry she 
slammed her fists against the side of the generator, as if she could 
impart its function by sheer force of will.

     The light turned blue again.

     There was a fraction of a second in which time reversed itself, a 
great hum and clang, and then everything was still.  A great tension 
seemed to depart.

  Amelia pointed at the viewscreen in astonishment.  "Look!  It 
worked.  I don't know how, I don't know why, but it worked!  
We're not going to die!  I can still bag Jake.  Huzzah!"  She grabbed 
Itsuko's arms in her lower limbs, and began to lead in a clumsy 
dance.

     George merely looked curious.  Very curious indeed.

          *********

     "Why" first voice.

     "should" second voice.

     "we" third voice.

     "help" fourth voice.

     "you?" first voice.

     Samuelle smiled at the Quadrango sisters.  "Because If you 
don't, I'll tell Jenn where to find you."

     "No!" screamed Jane, Jean, Joan, and June in unison.  They 
continued together.  "She troubled and bubbled she gets in our head 
and we wish we were dead.  She goes her own way and drags us 
too!"

     "Please," begged June.

     "Don't tell her where we are," begged Jane.

     Samuelle's rather unpleasant smile got ever wider.  "For my 
assistants, I can always be discrete."

     A little blackmail went a long way.  Dad would be proud, even if 
he had given Samuelle the tip in the first place.

          ***********

     Itsuko sat back in her chair, sipping a cup of tea and cuddling 
Zing in her lap.  She gazed at a viewscreen displaying the view 
outside.

     Okay, it had been a rash, stupid thing to do.  But it had worked.  
They were here, in the right place at the right time, and now just 
maybe things could start to take off.

     This Lungfish Alpha, it could be a dangerous place.  It was full 
of derelicts, wanderers, and outcasts.  But strangely enough, it had 
begun to seem like home.  And Itsuko had something to prove, to 
herself if no one else.

     An alert signal told her that a ship had been sighted.  Their first 
customer in the new location or a pirate looking to make an easy 
raid?  There was only one way to be sure.

     Itsuko put Zing to one side and got up

______________________________________________________

Glossary:

Quatters- Term for lifetime residents of Lungfish Alpha.

Spores- term for recent arrivals, especially those who aren't 
expected to stay for long.




Author's Notes:

Sorry there wasn't a lot of neat techno-stuff in this chapter.  I 
couldn't think if much interesting anyway, so I decided to just go 
for character development.

I hop you have a slightly better idea who some of these characters 
are, though I didn't get to nearly all of Michael Becks' creations.

I hope the next author has fun and thinks big.