The creature stood in the corridor, motionless as a statue, the cast of the fluorescent lights giving its carapace a greenish sheen. It stood just under two meters tall. Like all insects, it had three pair of jointed legs, though it walked erect on the lowest. From all six legs, at fairly regular intervals, grew short curved hairs that acted like auxiliary antenna. Such hairs were also present on the creature’s narrow body, but only sporadically. The middle pair of legs terminated in small hooks, while the front pair sported a nasty looking set of pincers. Its head pivoted on a jointed neck, and the mandibles that grew from it were further indication of the creature’s ability to destroy. Just above those great jaws were a pair of compound eyes, that looked like nothing more than giant, multifaceted emeralds. A pair of long antenna sprouted up from just above the eyes, the ends of which dangled downward and to the side.

The creature’s highly developed senses missed nothing. It picked up the hum of the engines, the slight buzz of the lighting, even the gentle air currents caused by the ship’s efficient ventilation system. For a time, it remained still, until, perhaps receiving some inaudible signal, it started to climb the wall to its right. For all its size, it moved quickly, taking a position just above the door, its head facing downward, pincers poised. It could already hear the footsteps approaching, though no human could have picked them up at that distance.

The door slid silently opened and a man walked through. He strolled casually, unaware of the impending ambush. The creature waited until the man was directly beneath it, then lunged, reaching for the man’s shoulders with its powerful claws.

The man reacted immediately, falling to the ground at the first hint of danger and rolling forward into the corridor, spinning as he came to his feet in a crouch. His hand had already drawn a weapon from its holster, which he now brought to bear on his attacker. The man rose slowly and shook his head. “Why must you do that? You know how I hate that.”

The creature shrugged. The gesture was not normal for its species, but was easy enough to emulate, and proved useful, after all the years it had been working with humans. “You know how dull it can be between destinations. I just want to make certain that you stay in good condition.”

The human sighed. “Keep it up, and you’re liable to find out just what condition I’m in.” He shook his head and laughed. “Come on, Bug-eyes. I’ll buy you a drink.”

The insectoid released the wall, and dropped to the floor, landing easily on its feet. “Don’t call me Bug-eyes. I don’t like it. My name is Coleo.” The insectoid had often run into bigotry when dealing with humans, though never from this man. In fact, out of all the humans it had ever dealt with, Captain John Ferris was one of the fairest.

The human shrugged. “Well, I don’t like to be stalked, and as long as you continue to do so, I will continue to call you names.”

The insectoid chuckled, or made the appropriate sound for its species. Coleo, of course, could not converse in comspeak, but the computer translator, worn about its neck, did a better than adequate job of interpreting. Ferris put an arm around the creature and laughed with it. Together, they walked down the corridor. “I will buy you a drink”, said the insectoid, “ if you’ll let me choose the beverage.”

Ferris, still laughing, shook his head. “No way. I’ve seen the foul elixirs you’ve consumed. I’ll stick with my beer.” They reached the ladder at the corridor’s end, that lead to the mess. Ferris climbed down quickly. He looked up in time to see Coleo clamber through the opening, walk across the ceiling and down the wall. Ferris waited, until the insectoid was standing beside him. “Wouldn’t it be easier to use the ladder?”

“Ladders are designed for your people, captain. Although, once, I did meet an insectoid that had mastered that ability. I have neither the time nor inclination to do so.”

Captain Ferris smiled and shook his head in wonder. So many life forms. So many differences. It was that great diversity that kept him out here, in the farthest reaches of space. He had been involved in space travel for most of his life, but, unlike many of his compatriots, the magic never left him.

The mess was a relatively large room, where the crew spent much time. Opposite the ladder were two large rectangular tables each filling a good portion of the area. Past them, on the far wall, was the food prep counter, which was fully automated. After meals, the mess served as both a recreation room and conference area.

Ferris crossed the open space and walked to the tables, where the rest of the crew sat, already eating. Two were human, a man and a woman, and the third resembled a giant bipedal rat, complete with a meter long tail, currently draped delicately over the creatures shoulder.

“Late again, you two,” smiled Sandra. She considered herself the only female aboard, though technically Coleo also fell into that category.

Captain Ferris sat across from her, while Coleo took a seat at the other table. At one time, Ferris had wanted the insectoid to sit with the rest of his crew, but the sight of her eating was enough to turn even his strong stomach. At least, they ate at the same time. “I take it our navigator had informed you of her intentions.”

Sandra met Ferris’ gaze, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Why, Captain, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Never mind that,” said the ratman, his translator, making him sound much older than he actually was, “did she get you?”

The Captain shrugged and turned his attention to eating. It was the insectoid, from behind, who answered. “Captain Ferris is fast for your kind. The ambush was unsuccessful.”

The ratman laughed, though it came out as more of a snort. He hit Sandra on the arm. “Well, girl. You lose again. You owe me three hundred now.”

Ferris’ eyes widened. “You bet against me?” His mock indignation set them all to laughing, even Marcus, the remaining human member of the crew and by far the quietest. The laughter and ribbing continued for some time, none of the crew escaping the friendly banter. At length, when they had settled down, and were once more concentrating on food, Ferris spoke. “All right. Let’s get to some business. The next planet on the schedule is Gendros. I’ve never been there, and, as far as I know, that holds for all of you as well.” He paused for a moment, but received no disagreement. “Marcus.”

The youngest, and probably most intelligent member of the crew grew serious. He was almost as tall as Coleo, slender with short, straight blonde hair. His clean shaven face had a boyish look to it, and his blue eyes were striking. He was almost classically handsome. Only his shyness prevented him from forming attachments to members of the opposite sex. Even Sandra had hinted that she was interested in him, but, too timid to respond, he’d let it drop. “You’ve all heard stories of shapeshifters. Well, this is the world they supposedly come from. Gendros has a gravity approximately thirty percent higher than earth’s. Not high enough to prevent us from functioning. It does mean that you’ll have to be careful if you try to run or jump. Otherwise, you’ll simply fatigue earlier. The air is not earth normal, but nothing in it will harm you, though my guess is it won’t be all that pleasant. I, for one, will be wearing a filter. Gendros has a sort of...”, he paused searching for the right words, “bad reputation, though whether it deserves it or not, I can’t say. Large criminal element, greedy tourist areas, prostitutes who can take any form for your pleasure, but any of whom might as easily take your life.”

“Sounds just like home,” Sandra muttered. She was rewarded by several soft chuckles.

“I don’t know how much is rumor. I do know that, if you plan on taking shore leave, be careful. I know I will.”

“This wasn’t a scheduled stop, Captain. Why the change?” The question came from the ratman, who everyone called Rocky. Even his translator couldn’t handle his real name.

“Well, it’s like this. Since our last assignment, when Jamie decided to take leave of us, we’ve been running short handed. I’d like to try to recruit a new engineer, before our next scheduled stop, which is reputed to be even rougher than Gendros.” The truth, and everyone there knew it, was that John Ferris could not pass by a planet of shapeshifters, without stopping to get a look at one. The fact that no one objected, gave further evidence of the bond between them. They were, at this point, almost more of a family than a crew.

After the meal, Rocky, Sandra and Captain Ferris played cards, while Coleo and Marcus sat at the next table discussing astrophysics. When Marcus had first laid eyes on the insectoid navigator, he’d been taken aback. After more than a year of space faring together, the young man had grown to respect and admire the alien. Not only for his keen mind, but also for his ability to adapt, which, he thought ironically, is one of the main reasons mankind had always been fascinated by the insect world. Marcus did not think that he would fair as well, living on a vessel of aliens.

Ferris was not really much of a player. After losing several hands, he bid the others good night, and retired to his cabin. Shortly after, Coleo and Marcus returned to their rooms. Sandra and the ratman continued playing, until Rocky realized he wasn’t going to be winning anytime soon. He really couldn’t complain, though, since she still owed him. “Think I’ll be turning in too.”

“Coward,” jibed Sandra, but she stood up as well. “Perhaps tomorrow.”

Rocky smiled. There would always be another game, for they were both players. “Perhaps”, he responded. He and Sandra left the mess together and headed for their respective quarters.

The cabin of Captain John Ferris was, like the man, a study in contrast. At first glance, Ferris looked like a professional killer. Only his eyes, sparkling with humor and intelligence, gave evidence that there was another side to the man. Similarly, the large number of objects cast randomly about the room, might have belonged to completely different people. There were, for example, several small high tech devices, scattered between numerous antiques. Some of these items were weapons, while others were mementos of the places he’d visited. Quite a few of the pieces were nothing more than novelties. Looking around that room, you might find any odd object, from any place in the galaxy.

Ferris’ cabin, like the rest of the crew’s, was a single room. The right side held his sleeping quarters, including a bed, two chests of drawers and a table, while the left sported a large mirrored wash area. Ferris walked to the sink, turned on the hot water and stopped to regard himself in the mirror, something he did often.

Lines were beginning to show on his rugged face, around his eyes and on his forehead. His once black hair was now streaked with gray. He’d kept his face shaven, ever since the lighter color started to creep into his beard. His green eyes were his best feature, or so he’d been told by numerous women. Unfortunately, his overall appearance was marred by a nose that was too big, and slightly crooked. Nor did his thin lips do anything to improve his visage. He was an imposing figure, but not the kind of man that a lady would seek out.

His lack of success in that area, explained his reluctance to risk further rejection. More than once, he’d wanted to invite Sandra back to his room. Of course, it would have been easier for him, if she were able to take her eyes off Marcus. Not that he could blame her. Why the boy didn’t take advantage of his looks was a mystery to the captain, who had always wished that the opposite sex would find him more attractive. Ferris sighed, and reached for the straight razor, laying on the side of the sink.

It was a replica of the genuine article, and he loved it. Like Marcus, he could have used chemicals to remove his facial hair, but there was something about the feel of a metal blade, sliding up the length of his neck that appealed to him. His only regret was, due to the popularity of depilatory chemicals, he was forced to mix his own after shave.

He finished lathering his face and had just put the blade to his throat, when there came a gentle tapping at his door. For a moment, he froze, thinking that it might be Sandra. He turned and paused for a second before he spoke “It’s open.”

Coleo entered the room and Ferris quickly masked his disappointment. He turned back to the mirror, and began to shave.

For a moment, the insectoid said nothing. Then she let out an involuntary whimper. Ferris almost cut himself. He lowered the blade and turned to stare at the alien, who in turn was staring back at him.

“What are you doing?” whispered the insectoid, urgently

Ferris looked confused. “I’m shaving.” When Coleo didn’t respond, he added, “cutting the hair from my face.”

The sound from the translator could only be interpreted as a gasp. Coleo stood silently for another few seconds, before speaking. “I am sorry. I did not mean to alarm you. For a moment, I forgot how different we really are. The hairs on my body are linked to my central nervous system, not unlike your ears. ”

Ferris began to chuckle, then stopped, remembering Rocky’s similar reaction to the event, when he’d first witnessed it. Coleo, of course, would have never been exposed to shaving. “The blade is called a razor and hasn’t been used widely for more than a hundred years. I picked it up at a historical museum on Thalys.” The insectoid moved closer to examine the implement. “I prefer it”, continued the captain, “to modern day hair removal alternatives.” He did not see reason to go into greater detail.

The insectoid stood silently, watching with interest as Ferris first finished shaving, then applied after shave.

Coleo nodded, then shook herself, recalling why she’d come. Ferris, catching the reflections of the movement in the mirror, marveled at the way she mimicked human gestures. At last, the insectoid spoke. “I know something of Gendros, but felt it would be better to speak with you privately. I did not wish to needlessly alarm the others.”

Ferris raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. He disapproved of keeping secrets from his crew.

“There are many stories among my race about the shapeshifters. They are an evil people, Captain, not to be trusted. I implore you. Do not land there.”

Ferris sighed. In spite of his first thoughts on the matter, he was glad that Coleo hadn’t said anything to the others. Why start a panic for no reason? The captain collected his thoughts before speaking.. “I have been halfway across the galaxy, Coleo, and I’ve never seen a race that was evil. In fact, many of the civilizations I’ve run across don’t even have the word in their vocabulary. Now, perhaps there is some truth in what you say. They may have a large criminal element, or warlike tendencies, but I can not, will not believe that of an entire species.”

The insectoid sighed. “I knew that you would feel that way, but I had to speak my mind. Over the course of time, I believe that we will pay for this, but I am not the Captain. Obviously, I will abide by any decision you make.”

Ferris met the alien’s eyes, and for a time, neither spoke. Something passed between them, a mutual respect, that would have been somehow diminished by words. Ferris looked away first, after realizing that you can’t stare down an insect. He smiled at the thought. At last, he turned back to his navigator and spoke. “Stay on course, Bug-eyes. We’ll be extra vigilant.”

For once, Coleo did not object to the name.

 
Many hours later, and still no closer to sleep, Ferris lay on his bed. His brief encounter with the insectoid disturbed him, and he was still not certain why. Of course, the information itself was enough to make him wary, but it was not just that.

Coleo had been with him for almost two years, and during that time had never questioned any of his decisions. Certainly, had never asked him to change plans. Also, the insectoid’s outlook on almost everything was distinctly alien, and yet, her words tonight could have easily come from human lips. Perhaps she’d been away from her people for too long.

After a time, he gave up trying to rest, and sat up. By his bedside, the computer terminal constantly flashed information across the screen. He watched it for a time, though he had seen it all before. The ship was so automated that, between assignments, it was seldom that anything ever occurred that required his input. Even during times of trouble, his crew was so well trained, he rarely had to give orders. They were a good group, and he was proud of them.

Not everybody could do what they did. He smiled as he thought back, many years ago to his own beginnings. An ex-military man had precious few options once he resigned, which was why so many of them made a career of it. Ferris simply didn’t like the lifestyle. After his stint in the navy, he worked as a hired hand on freighters. It was there that he learned about smuggling, and helped with a fair share of it, before his conscience got the better of him.

He next signed on with a group of mercenaries. He learned a lot on that job too, but once again, found that he had trouble sleeping at night. He was simply too moral to kill for money. Still, he had been at it long enough to afford a small, single man vessel. Afterward, he earned money, doing odd bits of flying, that always seemed to be needed. No questions asked local transport, emergency deliveries and the like. For a time, he was content.

His real break came about three years later. He had been spending a lot of time on the planet Relea. Most of the population lived planetside, except for a few rich eccentrics, who made their home on the planet’s only moon. Often they would pay exorbitant prices to transport passengers or merchandise in a hurry. Consequently, it was no accident that he was ready to fly, when the emergency call came through. Dethaniel Weaver, one of his frequent clients, had become suddenly ill and his physician, the only man he trusted with his health, had been attending a seminar, planetside. Ferris delivered the physician in time to save Weaver’s life. He found it strange that in all his years of flying, this was the first act that he could ever recall with pride. Weaver had been so grateful, that he paid Ferris a tremendous sum for his services. More than enough to purchase a larger vessel.

Ferris remembered the first time he’d laid eyes on the craft. It was a mid-sized ship, ex-navy like himself. It needed work, but was reasonable. In one of the most impulsive acts of his life, he purchased it outright. He sold his single man ship and used the cash to fix up the new vessel. He named it The Wanderer because that was its name. The words had popped into his head almost immediately.

Ferris again became a freelancer, though now he only took on assignments with which he could live. Many of them were dangerous, but his previous experience, both legitimate and otherwise, had more than adequately prepared him for his current occupation. Between his guts and intuition, he soon developed a sterling reputation. It wasn’t long before he was being hired by governments, and scientific foundations, to do jobs that were too hairy for their own people.

His crew had been acquired over time, and they were all capable, in fact, the best in their areas. Marcus could do anything with a computer. Coleo was a first rate navigator. Sandra was a communications expert, and a geologist. Rocky was a surveillance specialist, who also was quite handy with traps and explosives. What made this group so successful, was the amount of redundancy. Any two could switch roles, with little loss of ability.

He had no doubt that they would be able to handle whatever awaited them on Gendros. With that realization, Ferris returned to bed and fell immediately asleep.

 
It was only days later that Gendros security gave The Wanderer permission to land. Ferris piloted the ship expertly into dry dock, though the computer could have done it without him. It always paid to exercise one’s skills. Afterwards, he busied himself obtaining permits for his people to take shore leave.

Like the rest of the crew, Sandra was engaged in last minute details. In her cabin, she wore her third outfit in as many minutes. It amazed her that she was able to make decisions so aptly under pressure, yet deciding what to wear was apparently beyond her. She checked her reflection in the full length mirror and liked what she saw. Though she was in her mid-thirties, she looked closer to twenty, her compact athletic body in excellent shape. Her short, light brown hair was worn more for convenience than style, but was attractive none the less. Her large brown eyes were beautiful, or so she’d been told, but with just the slightest application of makeup, they became stunning.

The fact was, she was damned attractive and could not understand the reluctance of the men in this crew to pursue her. It wasn’t as if she made herself unavailable. Though she found Marcus attractive, it was the Captain that interested her, as much for his kind demeanor, as for his sharp mind. Unfortunately, the man seemed oblivious to her advances. She sighed, and ran her hand through her hair. Then, unwilling to put any more time into primping, she left her cabin, and headed aft, toward the airlock. When she reached it, she was not surprised to see the others already waiting for final clearance. After a few weeks shipboard, shore leave was a welcome change of routine.

 
Rocky climbed down the short ladder to the ground, allowing the familiar space port noises to engulf him. He had spent much of his life growing up in such a place, and he’d yet to see one that was all that different. If sound was any indication, he was going to fit right in here.

He automatically tuned out the drone that was the conversations of many hundreds of people. Further away, merchants noisily hawked their wares, shouting above the music that emanated from the half dozen bars that were certain to be there. Even before he turned around, he knew that there would be people approaching. Taxi drivers, tour-guide wannabes, and beggars would be the first to converge on him. Once he sent them all away, the prostitutes and thieves would start checking him out. It was good to be home again.

Rocky turned around, shooed away the first wave of solicitors, and made his way to the promenade. Like all space ports, there was a main strip, where the rents were higher, and the establishments were either very expensive or owned by large corporations. Further out, he knew, down dimly lit, narrow metal alleys, there would be other shops that catered to the less fortunate. Rocky wasn’t certain which he preferred.

He looked around, happily taking it all in. There was an unusual array of creatures present, even for a port, some of them from his own planet. He continued to walk until he saw the universal symbol for gambling, glowing on the side of an expensive looking bar. With a smile that was all teeth, he entered the establishment, certain that, if all went well, he would have to make his exit in a hurry.

 
Marcus, face bathed in sweat, made his way through the narrow side corridors, following the directions he’d been given. It wouldn’t be long now. He passed several creatures along the way, but tried to avoid looking at them. He hoped that they had as little interest in him.

He quickened his pace, as his destination drew closer, his anticipation tempered only by guilt. He knew he should not be here, but was unable to control his impulses. He knew it as soon as he learned of the change in destination. For a time, he slowed, so as not to miss the sign. He did not relish the idea of being lost in these parts.

At last, it came into view. Next to the a glowing red sign, in a language he couldn’t read, was the universal symbol for prostitution. He paused outside gathering his nerve. He still could not believe what he was about to do. He drew a deep breath and entered.

The interior was not what he expected. It was a rather plain room, that looked more like an accounting office than a house of ill repute. Several aliens sat on sofas in what looked very much like a waiting area, while another sat behind a large metal desk, working some sort of computer. He paused again, not certain he was in the right place, when the alien at the desk looked up at him.

She was almost human, except for the blandness of features. Her thin lips had almost no shape, her face no wrinkles, her head no hair. Her eyes were a striking light gray. Her nose was little more than a bump on the front of her face and her ears little more than slits, though they were positioned correctly on her head. After a moment, he realized he wasn’t even certain that it was a she. He had simply been expecting a female receptionist in such a place.

The alien touched a few buttons on her desk and spoke. Her voice was so perfect, he almost missed the fact that it was running through a translator. “May I help you?”

“I’m looking for a woman. I was told that...I mean I understand...”, his voice trailed off, as he became less certain that he was in the right place. “I mean...”

Even without the curve of the lips, he could tell she was smiling. “You wish to hire an escort, perhaps?” Her eyes twinkled at his discomfit.

“Er, yes. I was told that your girls could take any shape.”

The receptionist nodded. “That is so. You had someone special in mind then.”

Marcus nodded and pulled a small holocorder from his pocket. He stepped closer to the desk, placed it flat, and spoke. “Graphic Encryption code 41022.” Immediately, the air above the disc shimmered, and a shape began to form. Within moments, a three dimensional image of a brown-haired woman hovered in the air. “Her name is Sandra”, he said.

He stepped back to watch the receptionist’s reaction. “Sandra,” she repeated, breathily.

To his surprise, as she watched the recording, her face began to ripple, as if it were a gel. Her eyes moved slightly further apart, her nose increased in size, and she grew ears and hair. The entire transformation took just under a minute. When it was done, she turned to him and smiled. Her voice, he noticed was still the same. “It will be a hundred units.” From the look in his eyes, she knew he was sold even before he nodded assent.

 
Captain Ferris made his way through the crowd. He liked bars because he liked people. Whenever he was planet bound, he would inevitably make his way to a local tavern and spend many hours there, just listening. Tonight, however, was different. He was here to meet a prospective crew member.

The shapeshifter had come with the highest recommendations. If only half his resume was true, he would make a fine engineer. Coleo must have been wrong about these people. In fact, from what he could see, there were more similarities than differences between the almost featureless shapeshifters and their human counterparts. Ferris would be careful anyway, but was confident that his intuition could be trusted.

He smiled as he thought back to a conversation he’d only recently had with Coleo. Apparently, the concept of intuition fascinated the insectoids, as they had nothing like it amongst themselves. Many denied that it existed altogether, though Coleo admitted after working with Ferris for some time, she was not one of them. Ferris almost chuckled at the memory, when he noticed a short, featureless shapeshifter staring at him. He returned the gaze, and waited for the newcomer to speak.

“You are Ferris?” The alien’s voice, through the older model translator, was rather mechanical.

“I am. And you?”

The alien extended a tentacle, which, as it approached, formed itself into a human hand. “You may call me Jam, since I doubt that you could pronounce my real name.”

“Jam, it is,” replied the captain, as he motioned for the shapeshifter to take a seat.

Rather than sitting, it oozed to the chair, and seemed to reform there. Its features, Ferris noticed, seemed a bit more human now or perhaps that was his imagination. The creature spoke. “The name is a joke, you see. I’m not really good at them, but I was told that if I had one, it would improve my chances of obtaining employment.”

Ferris stared at the alien for a moment, before he burst into laughter. Though the interview had not yet begun, the captain was certain that he’d found his man.

 
Coleo, after a nervous day, began to adjust to the new port. Much to her surprise, she quite liked the shapeshifters . It looked like, once more, Captain Ferris was going to be proved correct.

She walked down the promenade, absorbing the atmosphere of the place, and wondered why there had been so many negative stories about Gendros. Certainly, nothing she’d seen so far supported those tales.

She had been treated courteously everywhere she went. In many cases, the shapeshifters went out of their way to make her feel at home. She found she enjoyed talking to the aliens almost as much as she enjoyed her conversations with the captain. Most of them seemed to be intelligent, thoughtful creatures. She stopped to watch a smaller shapeshifter entertain a crowd of tourists, by turning itself into various native animals, complete with sound effects. Later in the show, the entertainer displayed his skill at imitating not just form, but voice. While the insectoid was certain that a translator was being employed, she could find no trace of one. It had to be some type of implant, though of a higher caliber than she’d ever encountered.

After a time, when it seemed that the act was not about to come to a close, she continued down the avenue, leaving the entertainer and crowd behind her.

Sandra returned to her hotel room, happy but tired. She’d done well at the gaming tables, though for a while, it had been touch and go. At one point in the evening, she passed Rocky, who, judging by the size of the surrounding crowd, seemed to be having a good night himself. She thought about stopping, but, as he seemed to be doing well without her, she continued on to a different area of the room. Many of the games were not familiar to her, but enough were, and she learned a few others quickly enough. One could never know how to play too many games.

She had never seen a system like the one employed on Gendros. Upon entering the first gaming house, she had been issued a card that was good planet-wide. After waiting for a spot to open, which had taken less than ten minutes, she sat at her first table. The game was a familiar version of the card game fourteen. She was instructed to place her card into the slot on the table before her. All winnings and losses were posted to it. Somehow, the card transferred your winnings to your personal credit account. If you ran out of credit, your card becomes useless. She could see certain advantages to the system.

For one thing, since the card was somehow synched to her, only she could use it. Winners did not have to worry about the thieves that were omnipresent in every other casino she had ever visited. Of course, it also meant that, if you became a problem, your credit could be cut off, planet wide.

She undressed, and stepped into the sonic hygiene stall. The fact that it felt more like a massage than a shower justified to her the price of the room. Afterwards, still naked, she got under the covers and closed her eyes. For a time, she turned from side to side, but found herself unable to sleep. At length, she sat up. She flipped on the view screen, which displayed a number of options. She was almost surprised to find human listed, next to the picture of a rather attractive couple. Sometimes, she enjoyed watching alien forms of entertainment, but tonight, she wanted to relax. She selected the human icon from the screen, and a menu of entertainment options appeared. She didn’t recognize any of the films by title, so she chose one at random, and sank back onto the bed. In just a few seconds, the requested show began.

The program turned out to be a historical drama. Set in the days before man had achieved space flight, the story was about a group of adventurers traveling across Earth’s oceans in a large wooden vessel. It was hard for her to believe that mankind had once been so primitive. She found that the actor who played the ship’s captain reminded her very much of Ferris, at least in attitude. And he was the last person she wanted to think about.

In truth, she was annoyed with herself. How could she call herself a gamer, when she was terrified to let John know how she felt about him? Perhaps, the stakes were too high. She did not wish to risk the respect she knew she had earned. Not for the first time, she tried to think of how to broach the subject, but, as always, came up with nothing. After a time, she gave up and angrily turned off the screen. If she hadn’t put it on, she wouldn’t be thinking about him. With a sigh of resignation, she dressed again and returned to the tables, where, perhaps for a time, she’d be able to feel like a winner.

 
When Ferris returned to The Wanderer on the night of the third day, two surprises awaited him. Coleo had not yet returned to the ship, and Rocky was already there. He ran into the ratman by chance, while visiting the mess for a cup of coffee. He was already sitting, waiting for his drink to cool, when Rocky entered, looked at him, and smiled broadly. To Ferris, he looked like a lost child, finally discovered by a relative.

“Enough shore leave?” asked the captain, skeptically.

Rocky’s reply was indignant. “They closed the tables to me. They said I was cheating.”

Ferris snorted. “You? Come on.”

“But I wasn’t,” swore the rodent. “I was just lucky. I was winning big, when I was told to take my earnings and leave.”

“So why didn’t you just go to a different establishment?”

“I did,” whined the ratman. “I went from one to the other, but they were all expecting me. I even took a detour to some of the less traveled gaming houses. I’VE BEEN BLACKLISTED!” shouted Rocky.

Ferris started to laugh, until he saw the hurt look on his friend’s face. With great effort, he suppressed his mirth, and tried to sympathize. “How much did you win?”

The rodent’s indignation vanished, as if it were never there. “About a hundred,” he smiled, displaying a mouthful of pointy teeth.

The captain raised his eyebrows in surprise. “They blacklisted you for a hundred credits.” He took a mouthful of coffee.

“A hundred thousand,” corrected Rocky.

Ferris choked, spitting his drink all over the table. When he finally could speak again, he repeated the number, in disbelief.

“I told you I was lucky,” replied the ratman, smiling.

Ferris was about to reply, when Sandra entered the room. “Back so soon,” asked Ferris, conscious that he had coffee all over him.

“No choice. We should be on our way. There are some people looking for our rat.”

Rocky feigned a look of pain. “I’m not a rat.”

Sandra shrugged. “Whatever you are, you have, once again, gotten us into a spot.”

Sheepishly the ratman shrugged, then, as an afterthought, added, “But just think about how much money you can take me for.”

Sandra did not laugh at the jest.

 
It did not take long for Ferris to round up the crew, though he found that he had to bribe an official to get takeoff clearance. Rocky complained good-naturedly about the price of fame, but paid the money gladly. He did not want to find out what would happen if they caught up with him.

They all seemed rather surprised that Ferris had actually found an engineer on Gendros. Though it was always uncomfortable, when a new person entered the fray, they did their best to make him feel at home. By the end of dinner the first night, the entertaining little shapechanger had them all hysterical at his antics. At one point, he transformed his head to look like Coleo’s, topped by Sandra’s hair. Only Marcus seemed to be aloof, but that was not all that unusual. He retired early, while the others continued to talk and laugh long into the night.

Soon, they all grew fatigued, and finally, after bidding each other goodnight, all retired to their rooms.

 
Two hours later, the terminal by Ferris’ bed began beeping loudly. Bleary eyed, he propped himself up and turned to face the screen. Urgently, red letters flashed on and off. It took him a few seconds to wake up enough to understand the message. Someone had jettisoned the ship’s only escape pod.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to think. “Computer,” he said at last, “are there any life forms aboard the pod?”

The computer’s voice responded, even as the text appeared on the screen. “One being, life reading minimal.”

Ferris swung his feet around, so that he was in a sitting position. What did that mean? Could a creature have stowed away, and somehow entered and ejected the pod?

The computer’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Ship’s lasers locked on target.”

“Target? What target, damn it?” His head was reeling.

“Ship’s lasers fired.... target is the escape pod.”

“Computer, this is Captain Ferris, disable lasers, repeat...”

Before he could finish, the computer spoke again. “Target destroyed.”

The Captain stared at the screen for a long time, wondering just what had happened.

 
A short time later, Ferris had the computer wake the crew, with the exception of Jam, and inform them that there would be an immediate, mandatory meeting. That accomplished, he began to investigate the incident.

When Sandra arrived in the mess, Coleo was already there. This didn’t particularly surprise her, as the insectoid did not sleep. Rocky showed up while she was pouring coffee. “Any idea what this is about?” asked the rodent.

Sandra shook her head. She had been about to ask Coleo that very same question, when Ferris descended the ladder. Conspicuous by their absence were Marcus and the shapeshifter.

“Where’s Marcus?” asked the Captain, urgently, as soon as he took stock of the situation.

Sandra rose to her feet. “Why? What happened?”

Briefly, but leaving out no details, Ferris filled them in. It took only a few seconds for them to grasp the urgency of the situation. “But who fired the lasers?” asked Sandra.

“The first thing I checked,” replied the captain. “It was all done by a program. Something any of us could have done.”

“That’s why the shapeshifter isn’t here,” said Rocky. “You don’t trust him.”

“Well it is odd,” broke in Sandra. “Nothing like this has ever happened before, and he’s the only new variable.”

Though Ferris could not argue with her logic, his intuition told him otherwise. “Rocky, go get Marcus. We’ll wait for you.”

Rocky stood and walked quickly to the ladder. “I’ll be right back.” With that, he ascended rapidly, and disappeared from sight

For a time, no one spoke, though they must have been all thinking along similar lines. The very idea that this could happen on The Wanderer was profoundly disturbing. When the intercom beeped, Sandra jumped. Ferris hit the button immediately. “Rocky?”

“He’s not in his quarters, Captain,” replied the ratman, sounding more grim than they’d ever heard him.

Ferris’ eyes looked sad, but his voice remained firm. “All right, start searching the area, we’ll search the lower half. Personal comm units for everyone. We should stay in touch with one another. Don’t disturb Jam though. If nothing else turns up, we’ll search his room last.”

Ferris did not expect to find Marcus and was not surprised when, an hour or so later, the search had turned up nothing. Finally, as a group, they approached the shapeshifter’s quarters. Ferris rapped on the door. After a few seconds of silence, he banged again. At last, Jam’s voice called out. “Yes.”

“Would you mind coming out?” Ferris tried to keep his voice calm. A few moments later, the door slid opened.

Jam emerged, a look of apprehension on his face. “Is there a problem, Captain?” He regarded them nervously. Without waiting for an invitation, Rocky pushed passed the shapeshifter and entered the room. A moment later, he called out. “No good. He’s not here.”

“Who are you looking for?” asked the shapeshifter.

The ratman emerged from the room. “You know who we’re looking for. Who the hell do you think we’re looking for?”

Ferris held up a hand, and immediately Rocky grew silent. “Have you seen Marcus?”

Jam looked around, realizing, for the first time, that the blonde human was not with them. “No. He is missing?”

Sandra took a step forward, as if she were about to take a swing at the alien, but checked herself instead. Perhaps the situation was not what it seemed. She looked to Ferris for guidance.

“Okay, Sandra, you come with me. Let’s have a look at Marcus’ cabin. Coleo, Rocky, you search the ship, see if you can’t find some clue. Try following up the computer end also, maybe I missed something. And Jam...”

All eyes turned to the captain. What was he going to do with the alien? His gut still told him that the shapeshifter had nothing to do with the incident. “You stay here, until we come to get you. On second thought, Coleo, why don’t you escort our shapeshifter friend to the mess. Let him get something to eat if he wants. This may be a long night. Then come back and help Rocky.”

Jam nodded once, clearly aware of the severity of his situation. He followed the insectoid around the corner. Once they were out of sight, Ferris turned toward the ratman. “Check his quarters carefully, Rocky. I’m still not convinced he’s involved, but I need to know what happened.” He placed a hand on the ratman’s shoulder, then motioned to Sandra. “Let’s get going.” The two moved down the corridor, neither willing to break the silence, both reluctant to be the first to say that they were certain Marcus was dead.

 
The first thing Ferris noticed about Marcus’ quarters was that everything was neat, almost to the point of fanaticism. Marcus was a student of the universe and it showed in his possessions. There were no personal objects in the room. No pictures or decorations. The only sign that anyone lived in the room, besides the bland wardrobe, was the collection of scientific equipment. There were devices there that Ferris had never seen before. Even Sandra, who considered herself to be up on the sciences, couldn’t figure out what half of them did.

A few of the pieces looked familiar, however, and, after a brief survey, Ferris realized why. At least half of the equipment in the room belonged to him. Over the years, he’d acquired quite a collection of technology, which was kept in storage until needed. He said nothing however. Perhaps Marcus had just been borrowing the equipment. He did not, could not believe that Marcus would steal, until he came across the holocorder. He picked it up, and turned it over in his hands. It wasn’t that long ago when Ferris had need of the device. He had searched in vain, had even asked Marcus if he knew where it might be. The young crewman had said no.

Absently, Ferris activated the device. On the small display screen, were a number of details, including memory available, date and time of last use.

Ferris’ stared at the numbers. The holocorder had been used just two days ago, while Marcus was still planetside. Could there be some clue, trapped within the device’s memory? His attempt to access the most recent footage was rejected. Apparently, the recordings had been encrypted. Sandra, aware that the captain had found something, stood nearby expectantly. After a time, she grew restless. “What is it?”

Ferris glanced up at her. “I think this holocorder may give us a lead. The only problem is, Marcus has the data password protected. Any ideas?”

“I didn’t even know he owned one,” she murmured, staring at the device.

“He didn’t. This one belongs to the ship. It’s actually illegal to fly without one. In case you run into some amazing lost civilization or something, I suppose.”

Sandra smiled. “If it’s the ship’s recorder, why not ask the computer to playback. It must dump its memory somewhere.”

Ferris thumped his head. Of course. The ship’s computer monitored all recordings made with the device, in an unalterable format, so that, should the government poll the log, the captain couldn’t cover up a discovery. He would have thought of it himself, except he never used the thing. He switched on the terminal. “Computer. Show me all of the images either played back or recorded by holocorder....” he turned the device over in his hand, and squinted at the number on the bottom. “1z237 during the last four days”

“Authorization please.”

“Captain John Ferris. Number 34231, password viscous.”

Sandra looked at him. “Viscous?”

Ferris shrugged. He placed the device on the table, and waited. A few moments later, an image appeared. Sandra gasped. The first several minutes were all recordings of her, taken without her permission, or even awareness. The fact that she never caught him at it, indicated the degree of caution with which Marcus had operated. Then the image changed. The two stared as the device began to play back a rather sordid sex scene, enacted between Marcus and Sandra.

For a few seconds, the pair stared at the image, spellbound. “But that never happened,” she gasped, though she knew the recorder was incapable of lying.

“I don’t doubt it,” whispered Ferris, forcing himself to look away. “Computer. This is Ferris. End playback.” He looked at Sandra. She turned away, but not before he saw a tear roll down her cheek. He did not blame her for being upset. “Those tapes are a lie, Captain.” Her voice was laced with bitterness.

For a moment, he said nothing. When he spoke, his voice was husky. “No they’re not. It’s not you on the tape, but a shapeshifter prostitute. They can do that, you know.”

She looked at him sharply. “I...I hadn’t thought of that.”

Ferris met her eyes. “I did. I hate to admit it, but I had the same idea myself.”

She watched him, but said nothing.

“I didn’t act on it though.” She continued to stare. “Damn it, Sandra, I’m not trying to offend you. Can I help it if you’re so damned attractive?”

She began to cry and turned from him. Ferris sat motionless. Until now, he hadn’t really believed that she’d reject him. “I’m sorry. I won’t ever mention it again.”

Sandra turned back to him, and shook her head. “It’s not that,” she gasped between sobs. He looked at her blankly, and she tried to calm herself. Between the recordings and the thefts, she was no longer certain that she’d ever really known Marcus. What other aberrations had he hid from them, over the years?

“Marcus must have felt guilty about the incident, especially after recording it. You saw how quiet he was at dinner. Maybe he had a few drinks, or did some drugs. He could have entered the escape pod to get away from me. Perhaps, unable to deal with his guilt, he programmed the computer to destroy it. It is entirely possible that he is dead because of me.”

Ferris stood up, and moved toward her. “No. If that’s what happened, and I’m not saying that it was, you are not responsible. He was sick, Sandra. It’s not your fault.” She began to cry again and went to him. He held her, smoothed back her hair, and tried desperately to reassure her. The only problem was it very well could have happened that way.

He was about to suggest that they leave the room, when his comm unit beeped. Still keeping his left hand around her, he activated the device with his right. “Yeah.”

“You’re not going to believe this, Captain.” The voice belonged to Rocky.

“Go ahead. I’m listening.”

There was a long pause. “I’m in the mess, and, well, Jam is dead.”

“What,” shouted Ferris, standing so fast that he almost knocked Sandra over.

“Coleo and I decided, after searching for a bit, that we were going to ask him some questions. I know I should have consulted you first but...”

“Go on.”

“Well, we reached the mess, and found him lying here. He’s bad, Captain. Looks as if he’s been hacked to death with a knife.”

Ferris looked up at Sandra, to make sure she was getting this. “I’m still in Marcus’ quarters. Why don’t you come up here, and stay with Sandra.” He really didn’t want to leave her alone, and he knew that she was close to Rocky. “Then I’ll go down and have a look.”

“I’m on my way.”

Neither of them said anything, until the ratman arrived.

Five minutes later, Ferris stood in the mess. Off to the side stood Coleo. Whatever had killed the shapeshifter had taken no chances. For a time, Ferris studied the insectoid. He couldn’t help but to think back to the conversation they had, before reaching Gendros. Was Coleo, thinking Jam guilty, capable of such a brutal assault? Certainly her pincers and mandibles were up to the task, though Ferris couldn’t believe it of her.

Still, the insectoid had been alone with the shapeshifter. In fact, she was likely the last one to see him. “Coleo, I have to ask you a question. Please, do not be insulted.”

The navigator looked at him. “Proceed.”

“Did you do this?” Ferris gestured to the carnage, that seemed to be spread over quite a bit of the room. For a moment, Coleo didn’t respond. When she finally did, there was pain in her voice. “How could you believe such a thing of me? I am no killer.”

Ferris turned away, embarrassed now that he even posed the question. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.” Without waiting for a reply, Captain John Ferris began the rather horrible job of cleaning the mess.

 
Sandra sat on the bed, trying to come to terms with the events of the passed day. Nothing made any sense. If Marcus’ did commit suicide, then who murdered the shapeshifter, and why? Perhaps Marcus had not killed himself, but then, who did? She went around that circle so many times, her head began to spin.

She told Rocky about the holocorder, and, in the vaguest terms, what they’d seen. The ratman’s reaction was so strong and protective that Sandra was touched, but it still didn’t bring them any closer to a solution.

After a time, she decided that waiting up here had no value. Ferris, she knew, was trying to protect her from the carnage below. If it weren’t so sweet, she’d have been angry. Perhaps, if she were down where the action was, she might find some answers. Without a word, she rose and walked to the door. Rocky’s voice followed her. “And where, exactly, did you think you were going?”

“To the mess,” she replied without turning back.

“I don’t think the Captain’s going to like that,” said the rodent, but she was already out the door. He cursed, rose and ran out after her.

 
Most of the cleanup was done, and Ferris was exhausted. Even with the insectoid’s aid, it had been quite a job. He sat for a second, breathing heavily. He was tired, and needed sleep. He thought about checking in with the others. Perhaps they had found another clue. He looked around for his comm unit, but it was nowhere in sight. Had he left it somewhere?

He tried to think back to the last time he’d seen it. He stood and scanned the room. His eyes burned, and his head was pounding. He turned to Coleo. “Have you seen my radio?”

The insectoid shook her head.

“I may have left it in Marcus’s room. I hate to ask, but, would you mind getting the others and bringing them down here. I’m beat.” He sank back down into the chair.

“No problem,” replied Coleo. The insectoid crossed the room quickly and started to climb the ladder. For a few moments, Ferris watched her, trying to figure out what was wrong. Then he had it. “Coleo.”

The insectoid stopped mid-step. “I thought you said that you couldn’t climb ladders.” Even as the words left his mouth, his pistol was in his hand.

The insectoid rotated its head and climbed down. “How very perceptive of you, Captain. I wish I had known that tidbit. It would have allowed me to spare your life.” The insectoid approached.

Ferris raised his gun. “Stay back, I’m warning you.” The creature froze.

“Who are you?”

The chuckle that came from the translator was more than a little disquieting.

“You attacked Marcus, put him in the escape pod, and had it blow up. Why?”

The alien shook its head. “I’m surprised at you Captain. I thought you would have guessed by now. Marcus never reboarded your ship. I had half the port security on my tail, and I needed a way out. After he left his rendezvous, I followed him, and then killed him. I’m certain by now that the authorities have found the body, for all the good it will do them.”

Realization lit Ferris’ eyes. “And Coleo found you out. Her sharper senses told her that you were not what you appeared to be. She confronted you, and you fought. I assume you wounded her, and hid her in the pod.” “Very good, Captain. You are doing much better. I programmed your computer to eject the pod, and then blow it up. You realize your security is inadequate.”

“Always the last to know,” said Ferris, wryly. “On the way down here, once Jam got to thinking, he must have suspected you too. So you killed him. You almost got away with it.”

The alien began to alter its form. Ferris raised the gun. “Stop it.”

“Relax, Captain, I just want to show you how grim you look.”

While he watched, the familiar form of Coleo grew thicker and shorter, filling out into a body very much like his own. Then its face began to change, becoming more like him with each passing second. When the transformation was done, it was astonishing. The creature chuckled. “Did you know,” it asked in Ferris’ voice, “that I did impressions? Tell me, Captain, if you had to, could you kill yourself?”

The creature took a step toward him. Ferris, sadly shook his head, and pulled the trigger. A bolt of energy flew from the gun, striking the killer in the center of its chest. The creature took one final step, and fell to the ground. “I’m afraid so,” replied the captain.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention, and Ferris made for the ladder. He was almost there, when a hand grasped his ankle. “One of the advantages of being a shapeshifter is you get to decide where to position your organs.” With more than human strength, the alien twisted, hurling the captain across the room, by his leg. Ferris landed hard, the air leaving his lungs. At some point, he must have dropped the gun, for he no longer had it.

The sound of the crash brought Sandra and Rocky down quickly. To their amazement, they were greeted by two Captains. Both drew their pistols, but did not know whom to shoot. “You cover the one on the right,” yelled Sandra, who brought her gun around to point to the prone figure. The ratman did as instructed.

Painfully, Ferris pulled himself into a sitting position. He tried desperately to think, but found it difficult. He raised his hand to his head, and it came away bloody.

“You’ll have to kill both of us,” said the one standing. “Its the only way to save the ship.”

Sandra looked from one to the other, but couldn’t tell them apart. Certainly, that was something that Ferris would have said. Sandra looked at both of them uncertainly. “What do you think?” she asked the rodent.

Rocky sighed and shrugged. “Oh well, I always was a gambler.” With those words, he squeezed the trigger. Sandra started screaming. Ferris tried desperately to stand, but failed. Rocky continued firing, until his target could barely be recognized. The sound of the bolts hitting flesh seemed to hang in the air long after Sandra’s scream had faded. Finally, John Ferris lost consciousness.

 
He awoke with a start, remembering, but not understanding. Eyes still closed, he heard Sandra speak. “He’s coming out of it.”

Ferris opened his eyes. His entire body ached. He was in his cabin. Just speaking took supreme effort. “What happened?” The words came out as a croak.

“It’s dead,” said Sandra softly. “It can’t hurt us, anymore.” She took his hand in hers. “Nothing can hurt us anymore.”

And Ferris remembered the rest of it. “You shot it.” He looked at Rocky accusingly. “You could have killed me.”

The ratman nodded. “I suppose.”

“How the hell did you know?”

The ratman showed his teeth. “Well, Captain, it’s like this.” He paused for effect, obviously enjoying the suspense. Ferris rolled his eyes. Sandra giggled softly.

“Tell him,” she pouted, hitting Rocky in the arm.

The rodent shrugged. “You know what a keen sense of smell I have, Captain, and to tell you the truth, I could think of no reason for a shapeshifter to wear after shave.”

Ferris’ eyes widened. “You risked my life, on your ability to smell my cologne. Is that what you’re telling me?”

Rocky nodded. “I’m afraid that’s right, Captain.”

Ferris stared at him. “Well then,” he said, at last, “I suppose a thank you is in order.” It had been one of the many differences between them that had been the shapeshifters undoing. So many species, so many differences. Sadly, Ferris thought about Coleo and Jam. The universe would be poorer without them. He would especially miss the insectoid. He wanted to sit up, but the pain in his head convinced him that he was not yet ready. With a grimace, he sank back into the pillows and yawned.

“I think I need to get some rest, if you don’t mind.” Rocky nodded. Sandra looked concerned. They turned to go, but Ferris did not release his grip on Sandra’s hand. “Not you. I’ve waited a long time to get you into my room and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you go so soon.”

Rocky shook his head, smiled and moved toward the door. There would be healing to do for all of them, but it would be okay. He glanced back at the bed one last time, before leaving, but Ferris and Sandra didn’t notice. They only had eyes for each other.