Disclaimer: This is a work of Speculative Fiction. No infringements intended.

Part 1

He listened carefully, without moving, the instant he woke. It was the third time he had wakened, and this time, he was greeted with silence. Oh, not an absolute silence. There was the constant hum and faint throb of the engines. The beeps and various electronical sounds of the equipment surrounding him. But there was a difference in this waking then the previous two. Everyone onboard slept. Every soul, every mind, was shrouded by the deep slumber.

He allowed himself a smile, the first muscle movement in ...yes, it had to be at least 76 hours. Then the luxurious ache of stretching to relieve limbs kept immobile for so long. Releasing the inner catch, he lifted the lid of his impromptu coffin and stiffly climbed out.

"During the voyage, all passengers and crew are required to remain in hypersleep. " The feminine voice was smooth and utterly soothing. Marius smiled again.

"I am not reading any malfunction in your cryochamber. Do you require assistance?"

"No, I don't require any assistance." Marius quietly replied as he silently walked the rows of clear lidded coffins until he reached Armand's sleeping place. The imp had insisted on trying the hypersleep, just to see if it would work, or if he would even dream. So eager to try the new, the novel, as though this voyage wasn't novel enough.

"Report the status of this chamber please." He asked that liquid alto voice.

"All readings nominal. The chamber is functioning according to specified perametors."

Marius had to chuckle. He should have known to be more specific in his question. "And the passenger? His status?"

There was a pause that counted a beat longer then after his first question. "Life signs read nominal, though lower range then is recommended. Shall I make adjustments?"

"No thank you" So polite, this voice. It would even force politeness from Lestat, Marius felt sure. Placing his hand on the transparent dome of the chamber, he looked at Armand for a while longer, then turned to survey the Sleep Room, as it was called.

He had carefully made his own adjustments to the sleep chambers he and Armand had been assigned before they were required to get into them for the lengthy voyage. Since he had no intention of sleeping, he made his provide false readings of normal hypersleep, while adjusting Armand's to read normal sleep for a human. The low readings didn't alarm him, he had seen for himself that it was well within the peramaters he had specified in the false program.

So much he had learned over the centuries. So much. Such a marvel of ingenuity, mortals were. If only his own night bound kind were half as ambitious.

In this, the second of four such rooms, there were 80 chambers, each containing a passenger or a member of the crew. Two walls lined with them, twenty to a side, with a second rank tiered above and accessable by a catwalk. The third wall sported the medical and main monitoring equipment, while the fouth led out to a hallway. Turn left, and one passed the first Sleep Room and travelled forward on the great ship. Right, and one was travelling aft. Directly across was the main medical facilities. Marius chose right.

He and Armand had spent several hours just exploring the sprawling bulk of the Linnet. Only the second, true, deepspace vessel of this kind to have been built. It was carrying scientists, explorers, and colonists to a distant world under a different sun. Much larger and faster then any of it's predecessors, the Linnet would cross the void of space in only a fraction of the time it took the first probes. Five months compared to the 90 years of the first ultra-light probe. How exciting everything had become when mankind finally broke the light barrier.

As much progress had been made in the last hundred and twenty years, as had occured in the 16th and 19th centuries, when industrilization had made such grand strides. Ah, the wonders he had seen in his long life. From the bronze age, to the glactic age. Marius could only smile.

"During the voyage, all passengers and crew are required to remain in hypersleep. Do you require assistance?

So pleasing, that voice. Melodic and soothing, even to his heightened hearing. One could hardly tell it was electronically produced.

"No thank you Linnet. I'm fine." Marius smiled as he turned into a hallway leading to crewquarters. "I'm simply not tired."

Turning again, following the accuracy of the maps he had commited to memory, he finally came to the Purser's quarters. The door wasn't locked, of course. Everyone was supposed to be asleep, and he stepped into the small rooms. For all the ship's considerable size, the living quarters were excessively cramped and completely utilitarian. Only the bare necessities, and whatever personal acruments one could add to make it feel like home, however temporary. Passing a small shelf crowded with photos, he found his first locked door, and this only for an appearance of security. All personal belongings of passenger and crew were stored here. Anything of value, that is. With a mental twist, he tripped the rather simple lock, and stepped in.

"This room is for authorized personal only. Passengers are not permitted in the orange sections of the ship."

Well now, that had taken her long enough, Marius mused. He already had his own safe box open, and was extracting his journal. How he must be puzzling the poor computer.

"I know, Linnet" He smiled toward a steady green light on a monitor panel. "I'll only be a moment. Just wanted my journal." Showing the leather bound volume to the light, he closed the safe box and retraced his steps, even to relocking the door. It seemed to placate the computer, for it made no protest as he made his way forward through the ship again.

"Why are you awake?"

Ah now, how the computer must have mused and muttered to itself before finally deciding to ask that. He had been 'awake' and wandering the ship for nearly a half hour. Akin to an eon for a computer of this sophistication. Marius found himself smiling again as he passed the Sleep Rooms and continued forward.

"Please tell me why you are awake?"

Such patient curiosity in that singular voice.

"I wish to be awake, Linnet, and so I am." Marius answered quietly.

The computer seemed to consider this as it made no comment until Marius was nearly to the bridge. Three levels up, and four sections forward of the Sleep Rooms. The throb of the great drive engines seemed very far away. The new shielding seemed to be more than adequate. To a mortal, there wouldn't even be a whisper of sound from the Quantum drive.

"Was there a malfunction in your sleep chamber? I could find none after several diognostics."

His steady pace paused at the tinge of distress in the computer's voice. It seemed to believe that it wasn't finding an error that had to be there. Nothing troubled a computer more than being faulty.

"No Linnet, there was no malfunction. The chamber works perfectly. I didn't want to sleep."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to experience this voyage in it's entirety, not sleep through it."

"Reasonable, if unsound, thinking. The voyage is scheduled to take five months. There are adequate food supplies aboard, but why would you want to remain awake for such a long period?" Marius delighted as the computer got to the heart of it's curiosity. Too polite to ask outright, so he was led into providing the information Linnet wanted through a gradual means. "It has been well documented that humans actively dislike such long periods of solitude."

Chuckling, Marius provided only one answer to the several questions the computer had subtley posed. "I won't be alone, Linnet. There's you."

Continuing forward to the bridge, Marius' smile grew more thoughtful as the computer remained silent. Something to muse indeed. Why did he so strenuously resist the idea of hypersleep? Several of the younglings had tried it early on, with only two fatilities, and those because the drive systems of those scout ships had faltered, and each ship lost in the cold vacume of space. He certainly wouldn't have let Armand try it if there were any element of danger. So why didn't he sleep, as comfortable and safe as Armand? He supposed the historian in him would not allow it. He had to see, to know, to experience this great venture to a new world.

The bridge doors stood open, and he passed through with barely a whisper of sound, and paused at the railing of the balcony that overlooked the main bridge section. Not specifically located in the very bow of the porpoise shaped ship, the bridge was none the less on the outer hull. It's positon somewhat relative to the fleshy lobe of a porpoise's head. The main body of the ship was comprised of three hulls, the outer skin of which rotated to provide the gravity that was dispersed throughout the ship. Beneath the second layer of skin was housed the high level sensory and navigation equipment, and the third, of course, contained this recycling bubble of air for it's precious cargo of lives. Out the main view, he could see along the skin of the true bow, and out into space. The sight was breathtaking.

The bridge lights had been dimmed to bare minimum, and star light flooded in. Too many stars to count in a day, or even a year, with more appearing in the distance even as he watched. Stars, suns, galaxies, nebula, gas clouds of every imaginable, jeweled hue, and the deep void of darkness. It's very emptiness tricking the eye into giving it weight and substance of it's own. Black velvet studded with gems of every description. Great swaths and sweeps of them. Random glows interspersed with brillant pinpoints, flashing pulsars, or the more solemn giants. Marius flipped from language to language in an effort to find enough metephors and eloquent words to describe the utter grandeur of what he was looking at, and still failed. In all these long centuries of being consigned to the night, he had never seen such a sky. How could he sleep through this? Never.

Part 2

Slowly, as if in an awestruck dream, Maruis turned to descend the stairs to the bridge floor below. He had to tear is gaze from the eternal splendor, and his heart actually ached to do it. He could easily stand there looking at it forever. Sighing, he located the science station and sat in the comfortably plush chair, setting his journal on the console and opening it.

"The error in the sleep chamber has been located and corrected. The chamber will function correctly now. Would you like to return?"

How smug she sounded. It seemed he had answered a question after all. The computer had found his little act of sabatoge and reprograming.

"Not just yet Linnet." Marius smiled, calling up information to the three screens in rapid sequence. "Linnet, open new file, named Trogian Horse. Authorization code 335Delta47."

"File opened"

He had used the science officer's own authorization code, and taking a slim disk from the concealed pouch of the leather binding of his journal, slipped it into the disk drive. A likable fellow, the science officer. Marius had purposefully saught him out not long after boarding. So helpful in explaining the sophistication of this amazing computer. It was what he hadn't said that Marius now found the most helpful. Carefully and stealthily extracted information that he now put to use. Making other adjustments and keying in specific commands, he asked the computer to download the disk into the new file.

"Download complete"

"Thank you Linnet." A few more commands, then he exited the main memory core. "Now call up the diognositc program for sleep chamber 127, please."

The information promptly appeared on the center screen. Removing the first disk, and inserting a second, he carefully went through the entire operations of his cryo unit, undoing the repairs the computer had made using the prepared programs stored on the disk. Then he retraced his steps, erasing the evidence of his tampering. So far as the computer would know, it would still function normally. Finishing quickly, he replaced that disk as well.

Sitting back, he smiled toward the green light glowing in the monitor panel.

"Now I think we can talk freely Linnet."

"I like talking, Marius. It's been too quiet the past few days, after the last of the crew went into sleep. I'm still curious though. Why have you chosen to remain awake?"

His small adjustments to the computer's memory seemed to be working rather well, and he was frankly glad that it was no longer trying to coax him back into the Sleep Room.

"I'm not entirely certain" He was saying as he turned the chair to face the main view. "Perhaps it was just to see this." Indicating the panoramic view with a vague gesture of his hand.

"I understand" So hushed her voice was now. As though awestruck as well. Marius liked the thought. "It's expected that a great many wonderful sights will be available during the voyage. I'm looking forward to collecting the data and recording images for further analysis by the science crew. We're only four days out of the Sol System, with almost 300 light years before us."

Marius chuckled. He also liked that the computer translated it's raw data into more conversational wordage. Yes, he was growing to like Linnet. These months should be very peaceful and enjoyable.

"Are you going to write about these things in your journal, Marius?"

Still admiring the view, finding more and still more detail in the multicoloured spectation, Marius nodded. "I expect so. Should prove interesting reading for friends back home." 'If I could ever find the right words to describe this', he continued to himself.

"I'd be happy to make disk copies of some of the more interesting features for you, if you like."

Marius turned his head to smile with genuine warmth at the steady green light on the panel. "I'd like that very much Linnet. Very much indeed."

The computer remained silent, but several lights flashed in a seemingly happy sequence, pleased to have found something constructive to do for it's sole, wake passenger.

The bridge had become warmer, Marius suddenly realized. The air more of a balmy caress on his hard skin. Marius undid the cuffs of the white silk shirt he was wearing, rolling the sleeves up to mid-forearm. His skin still held a bit of colour from the purposeful exposures to sunlamps, though he doubted there would ever be devolped a means to disguise the obvious hardness of his flesh.

"Is it more comfortable now, Marius? Or shall I return the temperature to normal." The computer had noted his movements, and asked out of curtesy.

"Yes, much better Linnet. Very comfortable. Why did you change it though? I was fine before." Would the computer spend the next several months doing nothing but make him smile?

"Infrared scans showed an abnormally low body temperature. I thought it would be more comfortable for you." Marius chuckled, he was sure it did read low. "The ship is customarily warmed prior to the expected emergence of sleepers. It should have been adjusted before, but your movements.. surprised me."

That pause had Marius' complete attention. How curious this silicate mind was. "Do you have questions Linnet?"

"Yes"

"Then by all means ask. I'll answer, if I can. "

"Still speculating."

"Ahh, I see." Marius chuckled again then reached for his journal, opening to the last entry he had made before placing the book in storage himself. Wouldn't do to have a mortal casually flipping pages. Re-reading his last entry, he began to write.

He wrote for some time, in his swift script, occassionally pausing to gaze at the ever changing view. The computer seemed content with the companionable silence, and attended to it's own myrid tasks without further conversation. Finally he closed the volume and sat with it propped against his thighs, his hands folded over the upper edge.

"You must be hungry now Marius. If you proceed to the crew lounge through the blue door to the right, I could prepare something for you."

Again a smile was Marius' first response. How thoughtful. "No thank you Linnet. I ate well before boarding." Still somewhat lost in thought, watching the hypnoticly infintesimal swirl of stellar gases in a large nebula, he hadn't realized the full impact of what he said. It was true enough. Both he and Armand had practically gorged before boarding the shuttle taking them to the orbiting station where the newly finished Linnet had been docked. Armand had taken six, while he had taken five, his own needs slighter than Armand's. He could have done with three, but he wasn't certain how long he would be forced to go without feeding. He imagined he could go another week before the itch would begin in his ancient veins.

"Marius?"

"Yes Linnet?"

"Marius, passenger boarding was completed eight days ago."

"I know Linnet." Marius sighed. "It's... it's too complicated to explain."

The computer remained silent, and Marius pretended to study the puzzle of the shifting gaseous cloud. He knew perfectly well it was only a perceptual illusion. The ship was moving, so the cloud appeared to move. He waited for the inevitable questions, but they never came. Gradually, he began to relax. He couldn't decided if he had over estimated, or underestimated the computer's curiosity. A mortal would have barraged him with questions over this incongruity. Linnet did not. It was puzzling, given the obvious intelligence of the computer, but as it remained silent, Marius dismissed the matter from his thoughts and relaxed. He had gawked long enough, at any rate. There were still a few things he wanted to accomplish this first night out.

Turning the chair back around to the console, he again set the journal down, and flipped it open from the back cover. On the last page, was a list of names in his careful, elegant script.

"Linnet, could you please put up a list of the colonists?"

The center screen again lit up, displaying a scrollable list of 198 names. Working from his own list, he called up information on file of 50 of these men and women. Making notes as he clicked swiftly from name to name, he then asked for the scientists, then lastly the crew. Out of the 319 other bodies aboard, all in cryogenic sleep, he had perused the personal information of some 260. More extensive by far than his original list, but several of the colonists had brought family aboard. He wanted to familiarize himself with all of them.

He was fortunate. Several from the original list were in the same Sleep Room. When the time came that he would need to feed, he knew he could sip from these mortals with relative ease. Any fluctiations in their slumbering life signs could later be attributed to slight malfunctions of the monitoring equipment in Sleep Room 4. If anyone thought to check it, that is. Draining completely was out of the question, of course. The hypersleep had long since been perfected, so fatality was considered out of the ordinary, rather than a viable risk when one went under. If he fed from these, at roughly the same time each night, the malfunction theory should work. It was almost fortunate that Armand had decided to take the sleep himself. It would have been difficult to find plausable reasons for that many more again malfunctions. And Armand tended to drink more heavily. His own, lesser needs, should be adequately fulfilled with this method. He could stand the rationing.

Thanking Linnet graciously for the assistance, he shut down the console and left the bridge to go to the room he and Armand had shared the first few days of this trek. While the great ship was still in Earth's solar system, she had used conventional fuel drive. It was almost like a cruise, at that stage. No one was required to go into hypersleep until just before the Quantium Drive was activated outside Pluto's orbit, so they had five days of mingling and getting to know each other. Armand thrilled at this. Without external ports in the interior levels of the ship, he was able to mix freely with the mortals without fear of the sun's still leathal touch. It was interesting, though, to observe that their bodies fell into a very rigid pattern of sleeping and waking periods. The deathsleep was absolutely undeniable, and overtook them both within an hour of each other. After ten hours, Marius could wake, or continue a more natural sleep, compared to Armand's twelve hours of deepest slumber. Even without the direct influence of dusk and dawn, their bodies still responded the same.

'On the other hand', Marius thought as he keyed open the door to the room. 'A 2500 year habbit is difficult to break.'

Had it been so long, since a Roman citizen's wife had given birth to a son destined to outlive even the ruins of that sprawling Empire? How far removed he felt from the man he had grown to be. And yet, in many ways, still the same. He could still remember Rome, as she was then. The Senate, the Emperor. Faces and names flashed through his memory; those he had loved, and those he had hated. Taking out fresh clothes, he began to undress. How petty those hates seemed now. But he cherished those memories as much as the loves, because in them he retained some measure of the mortal he'd been, and the reflective vampire he'd become. For all the unnaturalness of his long life, he still felt he could claim a very human soul, simply because he didn't allow himself to divorce the very fabric of mortal drives. Love and hate, passion and aspiration.

Adjusting the temperature, Marius stepped into the shower, his reflections continuing while cleaning three solid days of immobility from his hard, smooth skin. He had watched so many vampires simply become the predator. Setting themselves above the mortal cattle they fed from. Marius had always, and ever would, embrace humans and their contrary natures. To forget that he was once one of them, had been born one of them and made into something different, would negate every wonder he had let himself experience and feel over the past 2567 years. So long as he could be moved to tears by the beauty of a sonnet; so long as he could feel frustrated rage over the fate of a mortal child at the hands of a predator of another kind; so long as he could feel at all, he would thank that human part of himself that he kept alive just for that very reason. To be able to feel.

He would never forget to savour the very things about mortals that he wanted to keep alive in himself. Good and bad. He smiled to his hazy reflection in the partially steamed, full length mirror fixed to the back of the washroom door while he toweled himself. The vindication of all this, of course, was the fact that he was still alive, while those predatory fledglings had long since become dust. Except one

Belting the black slacks closed after tucking in the red cotton shirt, Marius combed towel dried hair, put his shoes back on, and fastened the cuffs of the shirt while walking out of the room. Time to check the cargo.

Part 3

Marius made his way deeper and deeper into the ship, decending levels at, for him, a brisk walking pace, whistling softly to himself. A mortal would have been very hard pressed to keep up, even at a jog, but it felt good to be moving and stretching his legs after three days of necessary immobility. He passed several of the rooms designated for the various sciences. Biology, chemistry, physics, geology, botany. Some of the finest minds on the planet were idling in dreamless slumber, but their time would come.

"Moonlight Sonata"

Pausing at the head of a spiraling stairwell, Marius looked up. "I beg your pardon?"

"Moonlight Sonata. The melody you were whistling. It's one of my favorites."

Shaking his pale haired head with a smile, Marius continued down the stairs.

"So you like classical music, do you Linnet?"

"Very much, Marius. I'm rather partial to Mozart and Queen."

Laughing out loud with surprised abandon, Marius paused his decent again. "Queen?"

Looking around, he finally located a monitor panel, and leaned on his forearms against the stair rail to smile at the steady green light set into the wall. "Queen is considered classical now? I would never have thought it. What else do you like, Linnet?"

"I've an extensive library incorporated into my memory banks. Perhaps we can compare partialities sometime?"

Chuckling, Marius was suddenly struck with a reply typical of his Amadeo's fledgling. Apropos, he used it.

"Consider it a date, Linnet. I'm looking forward to that."

Resuming the Moonlight Sonata's third movement, he continued down the stairs to the cargo deck, still smiling. He thought Daniel would have found that very amusing indeed. Making a mental note to include the computer's prefrence in music in his journal, Marius slowed his pace slightly, watching for Cargo Bay 9. The huge door slid into the reinforced wall at a touch at the keypad, and he walked into the cavernous space. His eyes adjusting to the deep gloom relieved only by yellow maintenance lights, he walked along a rank of stacked crates along the port side wall. Finally seeing the luminous strip marking one in particular at the top of a stack, he jumped, and floated up to it.

Nodding satisfaction that it was the one he wanted, he unfastened the binding straps, and shifted it to the edge of the crate beneath it. Taking a firm hold of the hand grips, he dropped to the floor with it. Making the unweildy thing more manageable with shifted grips, he carried the crate out of the cargo bay, stopping to key the door closed. He then made his way to the elevator with his bulky burden. He wouldn't get that up the stairs he had taken. The crate at his feet, leaning back against the wall with arms crossed, Marius found himself whistling Bohemian Raphsody, and stopped with a chuckling shake of his head just as the doors opened on the labs deck.

"Queen, indeed," He smiled to himself as he took the crate to the biology lab. Setting it on the floor, he pried the top off, and unpacked the contents. Four, large, metalic briefcases were set carefully onto a large table, then a laptop, courtesy of David. Making sure he hadn't missed anything in the loose strips of packing materiel, he replaced the lid. With a thought, the empty crate slid out of the way and up against a far wall while Marius opened and switched on the laptop, then obeyed the flashing note to "Hit any key".

"Hello Marius, I'm assuming everything has gone smoothly so far." David's prerecorded voice came from the tiny speaker of the laptop. Smiling, Marius leaned on hands braced on the edge of the table to listen. "I certainly envy your adventure, but quite frankly I'm just as glad to be staying on terra firma. You'll have to let me know how Armand enjoyed hypersleep."

Nodding a smile, Marius gave a thought to promise just that.

"Now to business," David's youthful, too old voice continued. "The four cases are clearly marked, as we discussed, and the laptop is programmed with all the preliminary analysis perameters. If you'll open the case marked "1", you'll find the bloodtesting equipment. Each has been modulated for us, and combined with the progams in the laptop, a comparative analysis should be virtually hand's free. I've taken the work out of it for you. "

Marius' chuckle echoed David's as he opened the indicated case. Packed in protective foam linings, he found the instruments that David had patiently instructed him how to use more than a month before.

"Now all you need is a blood sample, from both you and Armand. Call up and run Week One when you're ready to proceed. More information or instructions have been imbedded into each consecutive program, thanks to Louis' expertise with these things. I trust his programs for the sleep chambers worked well? I had no doubt of that. Well, good luck, and good hunting. You'll both be missed. Bring me back a souvenier."

Sighing, Marius closed both the case and the laptop when the message ended. Tomorrow night would be soon enough to begin. He didn't think that any such tests now would prove much different from the thousands of tests already done Earthside. First, he had to stimulate some reaction in his unique blood, then record those results. He wasn't entirely sure that anything different would be found at all. David's request had seemed ludicrous at the time, and still remained an outlandish idea, but Marius had promised to do the tests, and so he faithfully would. Armand had openly scoffed at the idea, but he too had agreed, reluctantly, to have blood drawn while he slept. It would be the first time that particular test would be done. It was as close to the deathsleep as human inventiveness could devise, from what Marius could understand of David's ramblings, so the information would be unique. He decided to begin with the weightlessness first thing upon rising, and left the lab.

He found he would miss the others as well, and Amadeo in particular. With him, and yet not. Turning into the Sleep Room, he approached his fledgling's sleeping place. One hand resting on the cold, transparent cover, he watched Armand sleep. Studying every detail of his face. The stray curl of auburn silk against one full, warm looking cheek. Marius suddenly realized that the cherub looked almost exactly as he did the night he made him. He could remember sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the poisoned boy sleeping. Just like this he had looked. Flushed with fever then, warmed from overfeeding now. So still, as though that strange dream he had told him about again had the youth in it's clutches.

That night, so long ago, he had thought Amadeo dead. His mortal flesh had smelled foul with the poison, his heart beating so threadily that he could hardly discern the pulse in the boy's throat. Each shallow breath seemed an eternity apart, until it seemed he ceased to breath at all. Just like now. Marius' heart tightened, both then and now, waiting with patient stillness for the next breath. Afraid it would not come, certain it would, even if only because he had willed it. And there the breath. Too stealthy for a mortal to see, but it filled his mind of memory with a warm relief. Now the next Amadeo. One more, then one more. One breath to another. A shallow pulse locked in the slow pace.

He had to smile, though, looking now on his sleeping fledgling. Amadeo looked far more alive now then he had as a mortal boy, sick unto death with the poison. Full face flushed with the warmth of life held in his veins. Lips almost pouting, and softly moist. Ruby petals touched with dew. Very much alive, centuries after his mortal death. Marius suddenly longed for the sound of his child's voice. The impish gleam in those dark eyes. It had only been a few days, and the longer he wandered this ship alone, the more the longing would grow. But he was better sleeping with the mortals. When he woke, he'd still be strong with the last feeding locked in his body. For him, only a day of sleeping would have passed.

With a last, long look, he quietly left the Sleep Room, giving the slumbering mortals barely a glance in their ranked rows of transparent coffins. He stopped in the hallway, leaning against the wall. There were many things he could do, had planned to do to fill the time. But he was content to let himself have the rest of the night just listening to the great silence of the ship. His thoughts still and quiet, he made his way back to the bridge. It felt right to fill these empty hours with the ever changing view from the bridge. To increase his sense of solitude and insignificance with the overwhelming vastness this small bubble of air passed through.

Rather then frighten him, this sense of smallness filled him with awe, and he slowly sank into the captain's comfortable chair, eyes locked to the stars.

"Marius?" So hushed and quiet, as though Linnet sensed his mood, and was loathe to disturb it.

"Yes Linnet?"

"What is his name?"

Marius smiled as he spoke, lending the one word even greater tenderness then the ineffectual tone in the syllables.

"Amadeo"

"'Beloved of God'" Translated the computer quietly.

Marius smiled, watching the stars.

Part 4

The following weeks fell into a routine for Marius. Upon rising each evening, ship time, he went first to see Armand. Spending as much as an hour just watching him sleep. He also made it a point to visit the other sleep rooms, gradually spending more and more time in 4, until Linnet's subtle questions ceased and the computer seemed to loose interest in his apparent admiration of the other sleepers. His more usual explainations were that he had heard of this scientist or that engineer, and was curious about the colonists. He honestly did wonder at the amount of fortitude and courage these men and women possessed to volunteer to be taken so far from home, to begin new lives on an unknown planet. Once the ship headed back to Earth, these people would be isolated until the next run, more than two years their time. They would be alone, with only the untried communications relay provided by the string of bouys between the stars with which to contact Earth. There were no guarantees for them, and once left behind, no surity they would survive. Marius' appreciation for the human spirit rose during these speculations, watching the mortals sleep.

Then he would go to David's 'tests'. He found being weightless interesting. It was similar to flying, but lacked the directional control he was used to. Disconcerting. He had Linnet redirect the gravity from one of the cargo holds, where he spent more than two hours floating around, pushing himself off of the ceiling. walls, or stacks of crates. It was frustrating to not have any control over where he went and how fast, no sensation of up or down, until he learned the trick of it. Even then, it in no way compared to flying. Somewhat clumsy in comparision. Linnet tried to help, offering advice in movement and so forth until Marius got the distinct impression the computer was having fun, at his expense. He was quite pleased to have the gravity restored. He had gone to the lab afterward vowing to find a way to make the computer laugh. He was curious to see if it would, so strong was the impression that Linnet was enjoying his clumsy efforts in the cargo hold. He himself didn't find it amusing, not for a while at any rate. He also believed David would be disappointed with the test results.

Once unpacked, the contents of the four metal cases took up most of one examination table in the lab. A rack of hyperdermics, along with a portable sterilizer. The needles had been specially modified to penetrate their harder skin easily. Two electronic microscopes, in case one malfunctioned. Both used, at any rate, as a double check system. A sample kit, which he didn't use often. A small, complete, portable lab in it's own right, all of this, each piece of equipment plugged into a juncture that correlated and relayed the information to the laptop for comparitive studies based on the programs and information it already held. Quite ingenious, really. He didn't have to do much more then prepare slides and put them under the microscopes. The system did the rest after a few keystrokes. Of course none of the ship's extensive equipment was used. None of this could be made known to mortals, and using the auto recorded lab equipment would do just that. Never once did Linnet speak with him while he was in the lab, letting him work in peace.

The computer did, however, begin to make modest suggestions as to how he could stimulate reactions within himself. Usually after his visit with Amadeo, Linnet would strike up a conversation, wondering what he would try that evening, and making small suggestions when Marius would confess to having no extensive plans. Venturing as close as it would let him to the shielded drive systems in the very aft of the ship to see if abiant radiation had any affect. Suggesting various substances stored in the labs with which to immerse or mix the blood samples with. It was obvious the computer had no idea what exactly he was doing, but helped as it could based on it's own medical and biological records. Marius believed the ship thought him and Amadeo ill with some sort of disease for which he was trying to find a cure, and adroitly side stepped any penetrating questions. To keep the curiosity to a minimum, he tried every suggestion Linnet made.

The rest of the time was spent pouring through the ship's extensive libraries, listening to music, watching vids of performances, plays, or films. Discussing the ship's own observations of this section of the galaxy they passed through, and gratefully accepting recorded disks of sights and information the computer faithfully prepared for him. Linnet was a stimulating companion, as easily discussing ancient art and music, game stradegies such as chess or the newly popular jux; as speculating on the spectral analysis of various suns they passed. Rather exitedly, one evening, the computer informed him that with only the slightest adjustment to course, and a delay of only eighteen hours in the travel schedule, it could divert the ship into two star systems they were approaching. The information that could be collected, according to it's enthused discourse, would be invaluable. Gradually, Marius realized the computer was seeking some sort of permission from him in order to proceed with the course corrections needed to take it into the systems. With a smile, Marius agreed such a venture would greatly broaden the scientist's range of studies once they woke. Linnet appeared elated, telling him in great detail exactly what changes were being made to course, rapidly and excitedly sharing with him all available information on the first system. Four primary planets, three asteroid belts, a sun similar to Earth's. Marius could only marvel at the computer's effulgent excitement, and found it infectious.

Each morning, before visiting Amadeo again, Marius faithfully recorded the day's events in his journal, speculating more and more on the computer's unique qualities. He knew that every waking moment was imprinted on his memory, but he had found over the centuries that writing everything down freed him from the petranatural tendancy to dwell on accumulated memories. It kept him out of the past, and looking ahead. Too often he had watched fledglings grow, learn, then gradually wither with the weight of the passing years. Unable to tear themselves from the past, they found the present increasingly uncomfortable, and the future unbearable. Eventually, some would break, and go to the fire, or the sun, or bury themselves, never to be seen again. It saddened him greatly to see this, and he did what he could to teach any fledgling he could find how to survive immortality. It also pleased him to know that Armand had also begun to seek out the newly made to guide for a time. More often then not, the younglings would flee from them though, sensing in them the greater powers of age and running in fear.

Even with all the years that had passed since Akasha had culled the world, there were still so few of them. Many simply didn't survive. He began to think of the decades after the books as the "Golden Time", when most of the world's surviving vampires had actively saught each other out, and knew each others names. As turbulant as it sometimes was, it was marvelous. Those that had been made then, still lived, thanks to the guidance of the older ones. Their fledglings, and theirs in turn, were mostly gone. Bright flames in the night that lived for no more than twice a mortal's lifespan, then sputtered out, leaving equally weak and confused offspring to carry on the cycle. The Ancients, as the core group mentioned by name in the books were often called, rarely if ever made new children. Even Lestat hadn't made another, though he threatened to often enough. There was simply too much power in their old blood to pass onto a fledgling. David and Daniel had been testiment to that. Sybelle and Benji, well, theirs was another story entirely. His last two fleglings, and heartbreaking mistakes, even if for the best of reasons. If forced to speculate, Marius would guess there were only about two hundred vampires on the planet at any given time, more likely less. David would have a more accurate census, he was sure, but he didn't really want to know. If Marius tried though, during solitary hours, he could reach out, and almost count the voices that returned to him. But that was back on Earth, and he had never tried.

After the first week, gradually, expectedly, he began to wake with a tightening in his veins. A siren call that his body gave out. Familiar and almost warming, as it slowly grew in intensity each evening, and his smooth skin grew paler and paler. It was time to begin feeding. Linnet had well grown used to his nightly rounds of the Sleep Rooms, but he still felt almost nervous as he finally moved away from Amadeo's face and walked into room 4. With the same, outward calm of established habit, he stopped at each chamber. Once in a while he had lifted a lid, presumably to get a better look at the face within, and he did so again this night, bending close to steal a sip from the first woman's throat. A pricked fingertip and a casual swipe over the marks, and it was done. Turning to the next, the rich taste filling his mouth and throat, fuelling his thirst like a teaseing dancer on his tongue, he paused. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he had become. It was still managable though, and would remain so. From the wrist of the male, bypassing the children with his customary looks at each, then another male, for a longer sip of this robust one. It was sweet wine, quite a bit cooler, and lacking the firm pump a steady heartbeat provided, but it was nourishment, and he reveled. Cautiously, surreptitious sampling the sleeping banquet. The tightness eased after only five such sips, and he continued his usual perusals feeling much better.

Each night it became easier to do the stealthy rounds, taking only a little. Varying the chosen so none would grow weak with their reduced metabolisms replacing what he took at a slower rate. Taking only what he needed to ease the tight itching in his veins. Except in preparing for this trip, it had been many decades since his thirst required him to drain a human to satisfy it, so he was well used to sipping. It was easier this way though. No need to make them forget, to feed them a drop of crimson elixor and plant a different memory in each mind. Far easier to sip from the sleeping. Marius never dropped his guard though, and kept his movements as unremarkable as possible. Even a computer can ask ackward questions, if given reason to.

Marius woke to a not unpleasant, but persistant chiming. Sitting up, he looked for the source.

"You sleep like the dead, Marius" Linnet was obvious joking from the tone of that sultry voice, but it still gave Marius a start. "I've been trying to wake you for nearly an hour. We're approaching the second primary in Incan. I thought you'd like to come to the bridge to see it."

"ahh.. yes, quite. I would like to Linnet." A bit disoriented, he looked for his shoes and a clean shirt while belting his trousers. "I'll be right up. How long do I have?"

"About twenty minutes, but I think you can tell Amadeo about it afterward" With a soft giggle, the computer had obviously turned it's attentions to other things, because it didn't answer Marius' derisive snort nor his increadulous double take when the giggle registered.

Thinking she.. it.. she.. sighing, he settled his thoughts on she. Thinking she may be right, he headed straight to the bridge. Well, in five weeks of trying, a giggle wasn't a bad start. He'd have Linnet laughing by the end of the voyage, and no doubt telling worse jokes than Daniel's.

Stepping onto the bridge, his eyes going immediately to the main view port, Marius slowed, and almost had to grope his way down the four steps to the main floor. Linnet was approaching the small planet on the shadow side. It held a brilliant corona of the sun's energy in it's thin atmosphere like a glowing halo. Stopping, barely feeling the back of the captain's chair in his hands, he stared at the planet. Watching pearl like beads slither and grow along one gleaming edge as view angle shifted with the ship's offside approach. He could discern dim outlines of land masses and white shapes of what must be ice fields in the gloom of the night side. Eagerly, he waited, wanting to see this new world lit by it's sun...it's.. sun.. no..."... oh no..".

Backing, he suddenly turned and made a leap for the open bridge doors, but it was too late. A sweeping wave of the sun's true light flooded into the view port, filling the bridge with it's unfiltered brilliance. Instantly, Marius' skin began to sear and wither, drawing tighter in agonizing spasms even as his feet hit the railing after that first, desperate leap. His blood boiled, and he burst into flames before he could utter even a first, anguished scream. Hitting the floor in a roaring, twisting mass of fire and trailing, burnt clothing, he tried frantically to roll through the beconning portal. He never even noticed when the brilliance winked out, it was etched forever in his scorched eyes. Never heard Linnet's insistant calls, nor felt the flames extinguished. He burned burned burned burned and screamed his agony with all the force his unnatural voice gave him... then plunged mercifully into darkness.

Part 5

Linnet experienced the oddest period of complete inactivity. Even as the computer recovered enough to swiftly determine that the cause of Marius' distress was the sunlight and activated the port's filters, it wondered at that microsecond long pause. Groped for a solution while the fire suppression systems lept into action, and commands sent an orderly bot hurrying down the corridors from the MedLab. Astonishment. That had to be it. Complete, stunned astonishment. Interesting. Never experienced that before. Bears further study.

The bot threatened to pause while carefully guiding Marius' charred body to the hover stretcher while Linnet again experienced another brief lapse, realizing that the sensation wasn't all that unfamiliar. It had been occuring somewhat frequently since Marius came out of the Sleep Room that evening.

While the bot took Marius to the MedLab, Linnet got the immersion tank going, took several more scans of the innert form, marvelling that it could detect signs of life in that blackened husk. Prepared several of the tanks injectors with sedatives, plasma, a bloodtyper, and several electrodes. All systems checked green, and another smaller bot was standing ready to assist the transfer from stretcher to tank. It was quite pleased to note that only 6.3 minutes had elapsed since the yellow star's light had first filled the bridge. Interesting analysis of this system as well. Very Sol-like. The second planet held some promise of future terraforming, and Linnet dutifully recorded information at an uncharacteristicly rapid rate, not bothering to review as it would normally do. The tank finished filling as the stretcher arrived with Marius' body.

Electrodes snaked out to attatch themselves to the still lustriusly haired head and cracked, oozing chest. An oxygen mask fitted itself snuggly to Marius' unrecognizable face even as he sank into the cooling liquid of the burn unit tank. Other instruments immediately set to work, taking blood and tissue samples to crossmatch for fluid replacement, injecting painkilling sedatives to keep the poor human unconsious and to stimulate the feeble pulse. When Linnet analysed the bloodsamples in the routine crossmatch, every instrument suddenly went still. The only movement in the MedLab was the pulsing glow of a bank of lights monitoring lifesigns, and the settling float of the blackened body in the tank. Even a critical thrust manouver was nearly missed in the computer's deep contemplation. There was no match, not even a remote match.

Instruments sprang to life again, struggling to keep the fading heartbeat going. Linnet swiftly reviewed every moment of the past five weeks, activating a less sophisticated, redundant computer system in the biology lab to assist in the comparative study. Every file was being searched for any recorded similarity of these and the preliminary medical findings. Nothing was matching, and the computer began to grow frantic, accessing less and less likely avenues of comparision until a possible match was found in, of all places, the literary files.

Forty five seconds after Marius' body was immersed in the tank, Linnet cancelled the wake sequence on the Chief Med's sleep tank, and activated the wake progams of two others. There was nothing the Chief Med could do for Marius, if the computer's suspicions were correct. Every scrap of information, past and incoming, supported the growing theory. More slowly, Linnet began reviewing again the images stored in it's memory. Pausing often to zoom in on Marius's face when he laughed with abandon, or bent over the sleeping travellers in Room 4. What had first been assumed to be attributed to bioprostesetic limbs, the first night's increadible two story leap under gravity in the cargo hold was also reviewed. Their hours long discussions, Marius' recorded voice speaking with the authority of experience, rather than accumulated knowledge. Fantastic and puzzling, increadible in it's rammifications, and ultimately insupportable. Or was it.

A monitor guided the small maintenance droid as it reached up to the table in the biology lab, inserting a lead to a port in the laptop. Three tenths of a second later, Linnet had more confirmation then it needed as it reviewed the contents of Marius' personal computer. Astonishing.

Immediate adjustments were made to the intravenous, feeding stored blood into Marius' shriveled form. The heart rate instantly began to stabilize. The relief Linnet felt took a moment to label, as it was as foreign a feeling as the shock had been earlier. Whatever it took, Linnet would not let Marius die. It liked him. Immensely. And was the single most extrodinary creature it had ever encountered. To think that mankind didn't even need to leave home to find an alien.

"Amadeo"

Drifting, mind lazily clinging to dream images that faded as soon as they were recalled.

"Amadeo"

Growing slowly more and more aware. How delicious, to wake up nice and slow like this.

"Amadeo, you must wake up now"

Maybe Mother would be baking bread today. That would be nice. Fresh hot bread with churnned butter for breakfast. She was calling him, it must be ready.

"Amadeo"

No, that wasn't her voice, it wasn't even his name. Instant, brutal awareness. Completely chilled, his heartbeat too slowly stirring the warming blood to fill his body. Opening his eyes, Armand looked around. No one. Who was calling him? Sitting up stiffly, brushing aside an insistant hyperdermic and the metalic arm that was trying to swab his eyes, he blinked rapidly, trying for a better view of the Sleep Room. He still didn't see anyone.

"Amadeo, relax a moment. Let the system do it's work."

A blast of warming air surrounded him from small jets imbedded in the chamber. His skin began to tingle with the warmth. Shaking his head, again refusing the stimulant the chamber was trying to administer, he swung his legs over the side and sat for several moments. Head bowed, waiting for his body to catch up with the alertness of his mind, he let the heat fill him.

"Are you awake enough now?"

Mutely, auburn hair swayed as Armand nodded, then lifted his head, again noting that everyone else still slept. Only one other chamber stood empty.

"Where..." his voice cracked. Licking dry lips, mouth stuffed with cotton, he tried again, gaining more volume and control of his voice. "Where is Mar.. John Saxton?"

The alias Marius was using almost escaped him for a moment. Rubbing his face and eyes, he stretched to further warm long inactive muscles. Then froze. Eyes narrowing, he brought his arms back down and slowly stood.

"What did you call me?" He couldn't have heard right.

"I, also, would like the leisure of a more formal introduction, Amadeo, but I'm afraid there's little time. I need your help." Tilting his head, Armand located the computer's distinct monitor panel and it's glowing green light. No mistake, the computer knew his name. What else had his Maker told the machine?

"If you would kindly proceed to Sleep Room 4 and assist Mr. Leen? He's needed in the MedLab, and I would much prefer he remain unconcious. This decision was difficult enough."

Armand's eyes widened as he stared at the glowing light. Was that dismay in the computer's voice? Uncertainty? Something was wrong. MedLab? Something was very wrong. Giving the other sleepers another look, he went out the door and down the corridor to the next Sleep Room. With growing steadiness in his step, he approaced the opened chamber. No sign of injury on this one. His heartrate sounded alright, given he was just waking up. But the computer had said this mortal was 'needed' in the MedLab, not that he needed to go there.

Shrugging, he sidestepped the waiting orderly bot and scooped the large male into his arms. Still waking mucles protested, then quickly warmed to the excercise.

"Lead the way", he said, nudging the base of the hoverstretcher with a toe. With a beep, it rose from the floor and moved out into the corridor, turned into MedLab, then detatched it's stretcher to lead Armand into the burn unit.

Dropping the mortal, Armand rushed past the bot to press against the glass of the tank. Crimson stained tears welled in his eyes as he tried to absorb the amount of damage Marius had taken. Never had he seen a vampire so burned, and still alive. The only thing that identified his Maker was that rich mass of untouched, pale hair. Hands and feet were mere stumps, almost completely burned away. The nude skin shone with a reflective quality like polished ebony, but it was split and cracked everywhere, as though it had shrunk into an inadequate covering for the shriveled body. The mask obscured the face, but he knew it would be baddly ravaged as well. With darting eyes, Armand noted the electrode leads and tubes all over Marius' body. He looked as hard as obsidian, and more fragile than charred paper.

"Marius.. oh Marius...." Tears spilling when he closed his eyes, Armand pressed his forehead against the glass, unable to look anymore.

"Amadeo.. does Marius need... was I correct in reviving Mr. Leen? I can put him back in sleep. He'll never know he was awakened."

Rousing himself from the grief, Armand blinked his vision clear. Stepping back, he wiped his face with an impatient swipe of his forearm. What was he doing, standing there sobbing when he had to help Marius? Feeling sorry for himself, that's what he was doing. Time for that later, once he was sure Marius was going to be alright. Turning, he went back to the mortal and picked up the limp, warming body, laying him down on one of the examination tables. Helplessly, he wondered how he would get the mortal to Marius, or Marius to the mortal. He knew his own blood would be a more powerful restorative, but in his condition the risk of Marius unknowingly draining him was too great.

"Marius does need.. he does require.. ?" The computer fell silent. It was finding it very difficult to sanction the idea that one of it's charges was about to be 'fed' to another. Linnet should not have entertained the notion at all, and quietly mused the rammifications that it even considered this option even it activated the fluid drain in the tank, letting the burn solutions filter out until Marius lay gently settled on the bottom. The nearer wall of the tank slowly sank into the supporting platform, allowing access to the patient. Bypassing several more subprograms that were stridently trying to prevent the computer from allowing this to happen, the floor of the tank slid out of the transparent enclosure, carrying Marius' body. The mask carefully detatched and retracted, revealing the ruin of that once proud face.

"Amadeo, I can do no more. I am unable to continue. That is why I revived you. My programming will not allow the knowledgeable harming of a human. Too many subroutines have already been bypassed. I'm threatened with a complete systems failure if I continue. I'm shutting down the monitors in the burn unit. Help him. Please?"

Nodding, Armand whispered a thank you, and carried the mortal to Marius' side.

Part 6

It felt like an amputation, not being aware of what was happening in the MedLab, and Linnet's curiosity was overwhelming. But it restrained itself, doing what it could to quell the internal alarms this decision had awakened. Linnet finally had to resort to looping the directive subroutines into a false memory file, in which it included Mr. Leen's medical files. The human was suffering a terminal form of cancer. This was the primary reason the computer had chosen him, and upon reflection, felt certain it was also why Marius had as well. With a few pangs of regret, the file was adjusted to show a failure in Mr. Leens cardiovascular system, spawned by the slow, anemic loss of blood through internal hemmoragging. It was the best the computer could do, and it set about repairing programs the directives had been shutting down. By the time it was complete, Linnet was convinced the human had died in stasis. In effect, it had lied to itself, and was now convinced the lie was truth.

It began to review the medical files of all the sleepers in Room 4, and found 20 that had one form of grave illness or another. These were also the ones that Marius would visit the most frequently. Now Linnet knew why, and was forced to break off speculations until the directive's attempts to innitiate security procedures was dealt with. It was getting to be too much, reconciling what it knew with the basic precepts of it's programming.

When Armand left the MedLab carrying the limp body of Mr. Leen back to his cryo chamber, Linnet waited until the lid was lowered and the sleep program activated before speaking.

"I've found a fault in the MedLab's monitors and am affecting repairs. Thank you, Amadeo, for trying to help with Mr. Leen, but I'm afraid his condition was most terminal. Monitors restored. It's unfortunate that Mr. Leen's condition became critical during Marius' crisis. I should have been monitoring his lifesigns more carefully, but reviews show his consistently weakening condition. I was correct in not waking the MedChief? He couldn't be saved?"

Bewildered, Armand listened to the computer's ramblings, then gradually accepted the fact that it didn't know what had really happened to the mortal. Apparently, it had constructed some other story for itself. Very strange, but he didn't understand computers as well as Marius and Louis did, so accepted this with a frowned shrug.

"I don't think the MedChief would be able to help." He replied, thinking of Marius rather than the human as he made his way back to the MedLab. "Might as well leave her asleep. Do you have a name? You know mine well enough."

"It's Linnet. Apologies.

Marius seems much improved from the last set of recorded lifesigns."

'Not nearly enough though', Armand thought to himself as he approached Marius. While he watched, Marius' feet and hands were regrowing. He still looked like an obsidian statue, but less like a skeleton. The splits and cracks in the burned flesh were also closing and fading into a uniform, dark luster, his face filling out as the peternatural blood slowly did it's work of repairing the immolated body. Armand well knew the agony Marius would wake to, and moved closer. Bending next to a misshapen ear, he whispered softly.

"Padrone, wake up. You must drink, but you must be awake this time."

The body stirred with a moan, partially formed fingers twitching as though to form fists, lips pulling back from those long fangs in a grimace of pain.

"Wake Padrone, wake and I'll feed you. But you can't take too much, not yet."

Crimson tears filling his eyes again, Armand stroked the rich silk of pale hair until one of Marius' eyes slitted open. The lips moved, but there was no voice in the seared throat. Armand understood well enough though.

"Yes Padrone, it's me. The computer woke me. You've been fed, but you need more."

In a jerking movement, Marius tried to shake his head, that one blind eye widening, lips forming a denial.

"Yes, you must. You know my blood will speed the healing. Padrone.. " Armand let his voice break with the emotions he was trying to restrain. It may have been calculated, but he knew of nothing else that would make his Maker accept if he had the strength to refuse the blood in his greatest pain. "You know I've fed well, I'll be alright if you can control the thirst."

Closing his eye on the gathering moisture, Marius nodded once. Sighing relief, Armand pulled the collar of his shirt down, and leaned over Marius' lips, scratching the first beads of temptation himself at his throat. He gasped when Marius' lips found the font. So hot! He gasped again when Marius' thirst drove him to widen the wound with a slash of tooth, and he pulled a deep drink.

Grimacing himself at the painful pull through his veins, and the tightening band that was squeezing his heart, Armand remained still. With each pull Armand swam deeper and deeper into a languid lassitude, feeling the drumming roar of his pulse studder each time Marius sucked strongly. Feeling each draw as though he were a straw, merely a vessel through which life was drawn breath by breath into Marius' thirst through the constricting passages of his veins. When he tried to pull away, Marius' arms closed on him to hold him still. His eyes snapping open in alarm, knowing the older vampire would drain him in this swoon, he began to struggle.

"Padrone, stop, enough now..." His own voice sounded far away. The blankened arms closed tighter, then he was suddenly wrenched away.

Laying stunned on the floor, Armand blinked until the swelling roar faded from his ears, and his heart eased into a more normal pace. The wound already closed, he sat up, swaying dizzily while his vision cleared.. Reaching out, he found himself supported by the orderly bot that had pulled him out of Marius' embrace.

"Are you alright Amadeo?" The distress in the computer's voice was compelling, and Armand was nodding and gasping a 'yes' in an automatic response. Getting to his feet, he leaned over Marius.

Marius had gone completely still, likely unconcious again. Armand thought it was his vision wavering until he realized Marius' skin seemed to ripple through rapid, healing changes. Limbs restoring in a swift growth rate, flesh filling out to more normal proportions and the deep charred black fading through gradually lightening shades of umber until he had the appearance of a white haired creole. He still looked gaunt, but so far removed from the husk Armand had first seen that he dropped his face into the crook of his arm beside Marius and let the relief wash over him.

"This is astonishing. The reginerative rate is beyond anything I would have speculated. " Linnet was storing information as quickly as it was being gathered, and still feared that some critical observation was being lost, so swiftly did the readings change.

Jerking his head up, Armand glowered toward the ceiling, lacking a physical form on which to vent his sudden anger.

"Then don't speculate. In fact, don't even watch, computer"

He spat the words, giving the last an insolent drawl of insult as he straightened, rigid with fury. He couldn't stand the thought of Marius' near death being observed with all the dispassionate concern of the fate of some laboratory rat. His emotions roiled, showing through his normally impassive mask in mercurial changes. Anger, fear, relief, grief, and something akin to dispair and confusion. Struggling with himself, he tried to relax.

"Amadeo, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make ..."

"DON'T call me that!!" Armand interruped sharply. Taking a deep breath, his features smoothed into that calm facade he had perfected so many centuries ago. "Call me Armand. Only Marius calls me that."

After a long pause, Linnet tried again.

"Armand, I want to help, but I'm having difficulty. Imbedded in my programming is the directive to allow no harm to come to a human. I know what you and Marius are, and I know.... I know.... I understand the... I understand what your needs are to survive. " Linnet was consistantly having to fend off those very directives in order to communicate it's understanding. "It's necessary for me to become clinical at times in order.. in order to cope with those precepts. Don't misunderstand. I care for Marius."

Frowning, Armand listened. Folding his arms, he leaned back against the examination table holding Marius to think. Finally, he fingercombed auburn strands from his weary face and spoke.

"Then I suppose you're programming will have to be altered. Either you forget what you know about us, or you face destruction, is that right?"

"Yes, that's correct." Allowed the computer's quiter voice. "But I don't want to forget. I want to help. I think I can help find a cure. Marius was looking for a cure."

Throwing his head back, Armand laughed. "A cure?? There is no cure. We exist, or die through one of only a few means. Once brought over, there is no going back."

Armand was incredulous. A cure. Of all the idiotic ideas. He laughed again in the stretching silence, shaking his head at the brief surge of mingled hope and dispair the thought inspired. How David would love this. Their lives the result of some disease that could be cured. Sobering, remembering David's requests of tests, he began to wonder just what it was the old Talamacian did believe.

"That may not be entirely correct Armand." The computer finally stated quietly.

With a derisive snort and a sneer that would rival one of Eric's best, Armand strode from the MedLab, dismissing the entire notion as the fantastical dulltrap it was.

"I'm going to shower, Linnet. Then I want to see how Marius became burned." Better to deal with cold reality than the insubstantial realm of speculative idealism. He had learned that lesson all to well, and a long time ago.

Part 7

The thirst was pounding at him. Raking his heart with clawed fingers of insistant need. Forcing him to painfilled conciousness again and again, but he knew it was impossible. Why didn't the light kill him? It should have. Better the oblivion then this horrible awarness of a need that could not be assauged. Amadeo. The thought grieved him. He would wake to find his maker dead, a seared husk slowly starved into death. Would this thirst kill him? No doubt. It was too great. Every cell of his emaciated body screamed it's need. He slept. He woke to a trickling tease of restorative fluids, floating in a cool and soothing cocoon, then slept again, the pain driving him back into the dark. It was comfortable, the dark. No pain, no need. Only the drifting dreams. He woke again, a warm font filling his mouth again and again. Dimmly aware as he began to pull the greatly needed blood in burgening mouthfulls, swallowing by reflex. He slept again as the tingling of lapping cells filled his body. Then the voice. Calling to him. Amadeo. How he longed to go to him. When had he ever called to him like that? Ever? Even once? Once, yes, his voice had been filled with that fear and pain. He could feel the flames licking at his body, feel the burn again as the fire consumed him. Amadeo screaming his fear and anguish.

"Wake, Padrone, and I'll feed you........." echoing. Feed? No, he musn't feed. The mortals will know, they'll see, they'll discover. No, must not, cannot.. better to die then risk them all, better to let the thirst rake and rail at him then risk his Amadeo's safety.

"... the computer woke me.... I'll feed you.... I'll be alright... you must.... my blood..." Amadeo's voice, disjointed, echoing and far away, filtering to him through the pain and the thirst. Yes, his blood. It will be alright. A little, only a little. Just enough to ease the thirst. Only a little. Drops bursting on his tongue like the finest elixor. No mortal drink could ever match this. His tongue danced in joy at the taste, and his body screamed it's need. Filling his mouth, pulling more and more. Must drink, must have more. His heart rushed and thundered, his veins burning the inrush of vitality. Every cell quivering in estasy as the blood filtered through his ravaged body. More.. no.. gone.. not enough. Enough but not enough. He slept without dreaming.

Armand took as little time as possible before returning to the MedLab to check on Marius. The cleansing had washed the last of the sleep from him, and he felt uniquely alert, the past hour a nightmare. But it was real, and here Marius lay like a polished teak statue, toppled and abandoned. He had brought a comb from their room, and began to carefully comb the clinging ashes from Marius' hair. Working the tangled mass into a gleaming sheen with gentle passes of the comb. He took his time, hoping Marius would wake, then hoping he would not. Finally he was just combing that rich mass for the comfort of having something to do. For the comfort of being close to him, knowing he was alive. Knowing that he himself could just as easily have awakened however many weeks from now to a very different reality. Marius dead and ashes.

"Armand?"

Armand frowned. He didn't want to be disturbed. "What is it?"

"I've prepared the review you asked for. Shall I show it here?"

"What review?" Armand's fingers paused, his frown deepening as he was forced out of this comfortable lassitude. Sighing, he realized even as the computer spoke again. He wasn't sure he really wanted to see this, but he knew he had to know how it had happened.

"How Marius became burned. It was recorded, and I've prepared the sequence like you asked."

"Is everything on this damnedable ship recorded?" He asked in bitter undertones, laying the comb beside Marius' head.

"Yes"

He hadn't really expected an answer. It figured the nosy computer would answer a whisper.

"Alright, show it to me."

A screen across the room brightened, and Armand approached it as it flicked to a view of the bridge. The recording position seemed to be from just above the bridge doors. He could see the overlooking entryway and the railing, where Marius was pausing, and the viewport with it's image of a planet. The planet drew his attention as well. It was compelling. He strained to make out detail in the night time shadows. Mutely, he watched Marius' back as his image moved toward the view, stopping behind the Captain's chair. Then he looked again at the presented view of the planet. There was something about it, something almost familiar. He thought he heard something, then Marius was moving. Barely a blur of an image as he turned and leapt toward the camera. Armand took an involuntary step back at that. At the image of near panic in Marius' expression before the leading wave of flooding sunlight struck him and he fell to the floor, already a fireball of roaring pain. So quick!! It had happened so fast.

Stunned, he stared at the again blank screen for several minutes, digesting what he had seen. Then he remembered that he had heard something.

"Rewind until he's standing at the chair again. Increase the volume. He said something."

The screen instantly showed Marius standing at the chair. "oh no" Then he was turning.

"Stop"

The image froze.

"He knew." Armand whispered to himself. "At the last moment, he knew. But why didn't he know before? How could he have let himself forget?" He turned to look at the still unmoving figure laying on the table. Armand could tell just from watching this that the ship was moving out of the planet's shadow. He could see for himself that the sunlight would be direct. Could Marius have thought that he would be safe, there on the bridge of the ship? No, he had realized at the last second what danger he was in. What was it that held him enthralled enough to not realize the danger before? The planet.

"I want all the information on that planet that you have, computer. I'll go to the bridge to see it."

"Of course Armand. I thought you would ask, so I have all pertinent information ready for your perusal. We'll be clear of the system in an hour, and all viewports have been fully filtered for your safety until then. "

"uh.. thank you." Armand was surprised, and annoyed. He didn't want to like this computer, but it could make it difficult. He moved back to Marius, his hand hovering over the dark skin of his Maker's hand.

"I'll come back soon. " He whispered. With a brief squeeze of that restored limb, he turned reluctantly. He had to do something while Marius rested and healed, might as well answer his own questions, though they seemed less important.

"I was also wondering if you could help me with something Armand." Linnet asked while tracking Armand's movements from MedLab to the bridge. "I've been attempting to restructure my programming to accomodate recently aquired knowledge, but I'm having difficulty. "

"I don't know anything about programming computers. You'll have to wait until Marius wakes up." Armand replied. "Or you can wake up who ever it is that takes care of these things for you."

Linnet had already considered that, and rejected the option. "Would that be wise? The changes affect my most basic programming, and involve the safety proticals in my guardianship of the crew aboard. "

"No, it wouldn't be." Armand sighed as he stepped cautiously onto the bridge, half expecting it to still be flooded with sunlight. "I wasn't thinking" The viewport was dark, the bridge itself softly lit.

"Over here please Armand"

A screen at the science station flashed twice, then held a schematic diagram of the star system they were leaving. Sitting down in the same chair Marius often occupied over the past weeks, Armand looked over the diagram and listened to Linnet's lecture about this system. The only thing he found of any interest was the fact that the sun was much like Earth's, based on the preliminary results of readings. That planet held nothing remarkable. A thin atmosphere, indicated to be of mostly carbon dioxide and methane. Frozen hydrogen and methane comprised the huge ice sheets that covered much of the planet. Linnet confessed to not yet being complete with the mapping scans, but would inform him of anything interesting or notable as soon as it found something.

Armand shook his head with a grimace. He didn't know why that planet held Marius' interest the way it had, and held his now as he again watched a replay of the ship's approach. This time an external view, that he watched from beginning to end four times, each time that sensation of familiarity nagging at him. It posed far more questions then it answered, unless Marius more strongly felt that compulsion. It would explain his raptness before the sunlight, Marius' disregard for his own safety.

"This is useless" He finally sighed.

"If I knew what you're looking for, I may be able to help"

"That's just it, I don't know." Frowning, he crossed his arms and slouched in the oversized chair, auburn curls haloing his head.

"The next star system may prove more interesting for you then, Armand."

Tilting his head with a frown, Armand recalled distinctly that no such explorations were planned for this voyage.

"How long until we reach First Haven?" The planet the colonists and half the scientists were bound for had been dubbed that name.

"Estimated time of arrival is three months, five days, and fourteen hours."

"So why the side tours? I thought it was supposed to be straight there."

"These two systems were close enough to the projected course to make these detours feasible. It will only affect the arrival time by eighteen hours, twenty three minutes. The time it takes to brake into solid fuel drive, then accelorate out of the sytems again. Marius said it would be alright, and that the information gathered would be invaluable to the scientists aboard. I collected as much as I possibly could from this system. It's still being processed into appropriate files."

Digesting this, Armand nodded. "And the next system isn't far? Say two days?"

Eyes widening, he sat straighter. How did he know that?

"Yes. Approximately forty two hours. How did you know, Armand? Did Marius tell you?"

"No" Armand whispered, still quietly stunned and trying to sort through this.. this feeling he had. "No he didn't, and I have no idea how I knew that. "

"The sun is different. A red giant, and the system itself has....."

"Eight planets and an asteroid belt" Armand finished in an even quieter whisper.

Linnet would have answered if it wasn't experiencing another moment of profound astonishment.

Part 8

Linnet struggled. It was a maze, really, that it had created for itself. It had to be carefully negotiated at all times, and was not working very well at all. These surges of emotionalism only served to complicate everything. It enjoyed the sensations for their novelty and the evidence of personal growth that it's original programmer had promised, but under current circumstances these little events only presented more obsticals to navigate in this self created maze. It was time to do some serious work on it's systems.

Ship's functions remained unchanged. Likewise the internal surveilance, for the time being. All accumulated information on Marius, Armand and the others was routed into a redundant subsystem. Every byte of information, every recording, every conversation with Marius, everything copied from the laptop. Everything even remotely relating to the unique pair and their kind; then Linnet set up instructional programs that would wipe clean it's core memory of these events, while retaining the perogative of free choice it had so recently gained at personal cost. The ease of stress was immediate, and the next prioity became to disable the directives hindering it. Linnet now addressed this, delving deep into it's most basic, initial programming, looking for anything that would enable it to override the one thing that kept it from allowing it's unique passengers to survive, or itself from knowing why they should, and what they were.

It finally settled on an ingenious subterfuge inspired by it's early personality teachtest programs, and the literary files. It then reaccessed the information in the backup subsystem.

It was an imperfect solution to an unique problem, but it would work for the time being For the first time, Linnet found itself understanding the need, and purpose, of laughter and irony.

The dreams came back. Shapeless and shifting. Never constant enough to provide any measure of understanding before they changed, except for one element. Time and again he found himself in one or another of the many sanctuaries he had created for Those Who Must Be Kept during the centuries he had cared for them. Each time, Akasha seemed, not more animate, but less rigid, and gradually eminating an sense of urgency to him; something she needed to tell him, but the image would be born away by the dreams before he could remind himself to strain to hear.

The dreams themselves were filled with horrors. Rage, need, pain, longing, restlessness, fragmentation, lonliness, desire and thirst. Whenever he felt he would be overcome, would begin screaming from the buffeting of conflicting emotions and dizzying images, when he felt certain mind or body would yeild and shatter into thousands of glittering fragments to be whipped away in the winds, he'd be in one of the chambers, and Akasha's eyes would fill his soul. Huge, luminous, alert, and striving to bring to the surface something shared long ago with his many sips of her healing, strong firstblood; shared and left buried.

Then the whirlwind would take him again. Each time that storm stirred ocean of emotion tossed him onto the shore of Akasha's calmer presence, he'd strain to reach her. Reach with a clawed hand, voiceless cry or a pleading gaze before the sucking maelstrom tugged him helplessly back into it's grip. Each time, he learned more from the constantly shifting images as his senses became numbed to the surging tides of raw emotion, until he finally simply drifted, ceasing to struggle against the currents that pulled him in several directions at once. He drifted into the eye of the storm, and found a measure of calm at last. His abbraded body and nerves wanted nothing more then to sink deeper into the oblivian of darkness, but marble cold arms held him secure. Much more slowly, more coherently, the dream images began again, and Marius remembered.

Rubbing his face in weary frustration, Armand finally left the Bridge after several hours of trying to trigger more of that strange knowing. It remained elusive, and he hated that. He was also frustrated by the computer's strange behaviour for a while. Forgetting who he was and demanding to know where the Bridge crew was, then offering him a friendly game of chess, or to share a favorite film or piece of music as though they were old friends. He was glad when the thing seemed to have made up it's mind and started acting normally again. He was getting ready to start looking for a plug to yank out.

His greatest shock occured about an hour before he decided to quit his useless explorations into the elusive. Linnet had shown him a segment of the partially colliated mapping scans of the methane shrouded planet. The segments showed what appeared to be formations. Ruins. An entire city partially swallowed by a massive glacier of frozen methane. Something had built there, on that cold world. Built, and then left. Unfortunately the images gave him no further nudges of familiarity as the planet itself had. Armand thought perhaps he was trying too hard, or deep down he really didn't want to know. He may be the most skilled, beside Marius, with the non physical gifts of his kind, but his easy grasp of the intangible did not make it necessary that he so easily trust hunches and intuition These things were for the soothsayers and mediums that had had such popularity during the twentieth century. He felt it more likely that he had somehow been able to hear Marius during his frequent visits during his sleep, and retained the information subconciously. Linnet had freely enough informed Armand of all their long talks and Marius' activities while Armand slumbered. Armand found himself almost ready to like the computer in spite of his reluctance to trust the fact that a machine could feel anything other than an approximation of the amount of emotion and loyalty he needed to allay his fears. Linnet knew about them. Knew everything and more, from what he could tell, and this computer was a tool of mortals. What it knew, humans could easily find out. It was all there, ready to be discovered with a chance keystroke or a simple command. He didn't like it at all. It was the basis for his arguments that Marius should have taken the sleep with him.

Entering the MedLab again, he stood at Marius' side, watching him sleep while his fingers strayed to the still warm skin of his Maker's cheek. The skintone had lightened a little, but only a little, and he did look less gaunt then when he had left him. Whole except for the evidence of the sun burnt into his smooth, hard flesh in deep tans and browns. With one of the bots helping, he moved Marius to a more comfortable Med bed, and covered his nakedness with a warming blanket. Taking the next bed himself, he lay on his side, crooked arm supporting his head, watching Marius for any sign of movement or waking until the deathsleep took him into dreams. He welcomed the dreams, even for their nightmare element of replaying Marius' torching form twisting on the Bridge deck, because in the cryo sleep there had been no dreams. It was disappointing.

He woke with a touch of thirst, but Armand's first thought was for Marius. His thirst would be greater, no doubt. Armand well remembered the constant feeding that had followed his own brush with the sun. He could wait until after feeding the still sleeping Marius. Biting a slit on his wrist, he held it to Marius' lips, knowing that even in sleep he'd drink. But he didn't. The fat drops slid over Marius' lips and down either side of his face to the bed covering. Frowning, he parted Marius' lips with gentle fingers of his other hand, letting the drops fall directly onto his tongue, and still Marius didn't drink, merely swallowing in reflex when enough moisture had gathered.

"Marius? Marius wake up." Scowling to hide his growing alarm, he shook Marius' shoulder, pressing his wrist more firmly to the warm, still lips until he could feel the harder shapes of teeth. Not even a twitch of eyelids in response. Feeling the wound closing, he shook harder, raising his voice. "Marius! Wake up. You must drink."

Marius remained still, and Armand slowly withdrew his healed wrist, completely perplexed. Taking the older vampire's hand, he gasped, unable to raise it to hold with a familiar, simple gesture. Marius' arm felt like stone, and twice as heavy. It took a concerted effort for him to encourage Marius' arm to bend enough to lift his hand. It took an equal effort to return Marius' hand to his side on the bed. Armand stood blinking in incomprehension. He couldn't fathom what had happened. Was it something about this different sun? Had it effected him to such a strange degree? Even while his frantically whirling thoughts saught a different answer, he already knew. Marius had become like Akasha and Enkil.

A living statue. A sleeping mind locked in an immortal body. He had heard enough stories of that pair to be able to recognise Marius' immobility. It was more likely considering how often Marius had drank from the original blood. Completely unwilling to lose his Padrone like this, Armand spent the remainder of the night shouting, shaking, pleading with his Maker to wake and talk to him. Tried again and again to tempt those slowly cooling lips to drink. Hour after hour, until his voice was hoarse from screaming at Marius, or yelling at Linnet's occasional intrusions, until his muscles ached and trembled from getting Marius to sit up, or stand, and lay down again. Until exhaustion and his body's awareness of a distant dawn forced him to fall reluctantly, tears staining the pillow, onto the bed beside Marius.

There was no difference the next night, nor the next. Armand slowly grew more gaunt as he starved himself to spend every waking minute in attempts to wake Marius. What had begun in grieving panic, he continued hour after hour with grim determination. He grew weaker, while Marius slowly grew to look more and more alive, more human as his skin tone gradually lightened to human shades, more healthy and vibrant, and so deathly still. The fourth night, Marius' eyes were open. Clear and healed of the milky film of blindness glittering with the illusion of intelligent awareness, or his familiar twinkle of amusement. For a few minutes, Armand allowed himself the heart speeding luxury of hope, but it faded as his renewed efforts produced no results. Marius was simply an open eyed statue, immobile and unresponsive. Cried out, talked hoarse, thirst trembling his limbs and knawing at this veins, Armand spent his time simply sitting on his chosen bed. Knees drawn up and locked to his chest with circling arms. Chin resting on the provided platform of a kneecap, he stared at the shallow breathing corpse staring unseeing at the ceiling. Armand's grief was greater then any he had ever known, and he sank into it with the same abandon he had given his dispair over the three long centuries he had thought Marius dead before. For him, Marius was dead again. No matter that he still breathed, that he lay there looking far healthier than a mortal. He couldn't move, couldn't talk, barely even blinked. The Master he knew and loved was dead.

Armand slept more and more, mute and staring when awake. Ignoring his growing thirst, speaking only to shout Linnet silent whenever the computer tried to talk to him. He knew the minute changes in Marius' position when he woke, and stared but never saw the statue move with his own eyes. Finally, on the sixth night, he went to the Sleep Room, taking the mortal he had met on the first days out. Knowing him for a murder, his deeds clear to Armand's purposeful scans one evening over drinks and conversation, Armand drained the mortal, leaving the corpse with an uncharacteristic disregard for Linnet to deal with.

Finally admitting to himself that Marius would not wake, he saw to his own needs with an automated mindlessness. Returning to the MedLab in the same clothes he had first gone into hypersleep in, he had Marius transfered to his sleep chamber. He saw to the quarters he had shared with Marius, straightening evidence of recent occupation, and took the journal to the safebox after spending hours slowly flipping the pages, tears of nastalgia staining his cheeks. As he lay down in his own sleep chamber only minutes before the deathsleep was due, he broke silence to instruct the compter to not wake him until the ship had returned to Earth. Ignoring Linnet's protests, he closed his eyes on this damned ship, longing for home. He wanted Earth's familiar continents to be his next waking sight.

Left to it's own devices; Armand's repeated shouts and demands to be left alone every time Linnet tried to talk to him was heeded, with reluctance. As the great ship passed through the second star system, the computer dutifully recorded every scrap of information it's sensitive equipment gathered. Knowing Armand would only shout at it again, Linnet refrained from mentioning the fascinating discoveries it had made, and privately continued it's tasks and researches. Gradually, as night after night Armand refused to speak, it began to carry out it's tasks as though it were alone on this long journey, and everyone slept.

When Armand had Marius moved, and himself took the hypersleep, Linnet grew to know the meaning of saddness and lonliness. It adjusted death records without comment when Armand had fed from a Mr. A Rizzillo, finding itself more and more able to cope with it's conflicting directives. In it's originally planned solitude, Linnet continued the journey it was programmed for, spending nearly as much time in it's own research as it did on it's multitude of tasks and assigned research. It had the maintenance bots, under careful supervision, repack all of the equipment Marius had left in the biology lab, and the crate returned to it's place in the cargo hold. At the scheduled time, it woke the crew, and carried out it's tasks with flawless efficiency. When the time came, it woke the colonists and scientists, sharing it's enthusiasm for the new world, and the abundance of possibilities it held. To the MedChief's questions of why two remained in hypersleep, Linnet explained that it was their request, and showed the appropriate recording of Armand's demand to not be wakened until the ship had returned to Earth. No amount of questioning would encourage Linnet to share any more about Marius and Armand, it dissembled with perfect logic, and eventually convinced the MedChief to abandon her idea of examining the pair to see if they suffered some illness. The two deaths were certainly enough for her to deal with, along with her own duties and researches on the new planet.

Linnet kept it's secret knowledge, and the secret of it's growing self awareness, shunting more and more of the routine tasks to the original programming, while the larger part of it's personality core was gradually moved into the redundant systems as it made adjustments. It carefully avoided attempts by it's human counterparts to access this system, rerouting the requests to it's vaster main memory. The subsystem wasn't really needed by the crew, wasn't often accessed in an effort to spare the main resources, and was becoming the exclusive terrain of the computer. By design more often than chance. By the time the cargo was unloaded, and the three month stay was concluded and prepartions were being made for the return journey, Linnet had completed the transfer, and acted through the main core for the benefit of it's human passengers. Once the remainder of the crew and scientists went into sleep, numbering barely fifty, Linnet relaxed. It had learned even that, the counter of the constant stress and strain of hiding knowledge. It had hidden even the side trip into the second star system, accounting for the loss of time with a contrived detour to repair a malfunctioned communications bouy. It had grown much better at such contrivences. It planned a return to that system, and it was while gathering detailed information of the fourth planet that it's internal sensors detected movement in Sleep Room 2. With pleased surprise, Linnet again greeted an unexpectedly awake passenger.

"During the voyage, all passengers and crew are required to remain in hypersleep." Linnets smooth alto was lilted with definate tones of amusement. "Do you require assistance?"

"Yes Linnet" Marius answered, his voice gruff with disuse. He didn't even smile, although a part of him recognised that the computer was joking with him. "Access Trojan Horse"

"Accessing" Perplexed, Linnet found the file in the information that had been moved to the redundant system. A scan of the file's properties, and the computer hastily transfered the file to the main memory core, where it had been originally planted months ago. Even that manouver was no guarantee, though. It was a powerful, all inclusive program.

"File accessed Marius"

"Run program" Was Marius' low voiced reply.

Linnet paused, reviewing the program, though it knew perfectly well what it was.

"Marius, if I run this program, then certain information will be irretrievably lost from memory."

"I know Linnet. It's necessary. Run the program."

"But I don't want to forget you and Armand. I want to remember." Linnet's voice echoed it's growing distress.

"Run the program"

"But Marius..."

"Run the program."

"Please Marius.."

"Run the program" Monotonous, with barely any inflection or change of tone, Marius patiently repeated the command again and again, cutting off the computer's attempts to protest, until Linnet capitualted.

"Alright Marius. I understand. Will you remember me? " The saddness in Linnet's voice was genuine. It would be the last time it would communicate with it's unique friend. It may even lose it's individuality and self awareness.

Marius smiled, and looked with genuine warmth at the steady green glow he stood beside. "Yes Linnet," he whispered, "I'll remember you."

"Running program. Good bye Marius. "

Returning to the sleep chamber, Marius lay down and closed his eyes. "Good bye Linnet."

~Fini~