"For Danu's sake, Captain, turn that braincase splitting alarm off!" Malcolm shouted from the galley. His voice was calm, belying the harsh words, but an octave above the normal bass thunder Captain Cea Knight was used to hearing when the android deigned to speak directly to her.

Cea grinned mischievously then reached out and hit a flashing red button on the ship's console. The alarm stopped, leaving a ringing vibration in the air that reminded her of the discordant music on the last planet they'd visited in their quest for marketable technology.

Stretching long legs, way past cramped due to hours in the captain's chair scanning planets, moons and asteroids for a sign of derelict ships or useable ores, Cea groaned. The groan combined with boredom and a rising sense of cabin fever to produce a sound closer to pain than relief.

It feels like a damned itch I can't scratch, she thought while reading the data on her screen. The data indicated a large, indeterminate mass dead ahead. It wasn't moving.

"What set off the alarm?" Malcolm asked, still rattling dishes in the galley. "A dead ship or an ore lode?"

She scanned the data then flicked the screen off after instructing Mother, her pet name for the computer that ran the ship, to save the data to the central computer brain. "Neither. It reads like an anomaly. It's probably just another half-destroyed asteroid. Those damned pirate scavengers keep using outdated atomics to blow these things for the ore. The radiation sets off our alarms and we waste our time checking them out."

She punched a button and the lights indicating the online sensors blinked out. "Not this time," she snapped before turning her back to the view screen.

The smell of cooked food coming from the kitchen set Cea's stomach rumbling. Worse, a rising streak of mischievousness coursed through her, like a wave of overwhelming excitement.


"Hey, Malcolm! When's dinner going to be ready? I'm hungry, very hungry!" she shouted as she lay back in the chair, put her feet on the center console, then closed her eyes. In more ways than one, she thought, a small smile spreading pink lips.

"It's coming!" Malcolm responded while clanking even more dishes.

"I hope so, and soon! If you don't become more efficient, I'll trade you in at the next port and get myself a real servant." She grinned at the reaction that comment was bound to elicit in the stiffly correct droid.

The seven-foot machine stepped through the hatch, balancing a large tray filled with steaming food and drink. "You may well threaten, Captain, but you know as well as I you'll never find another combination robot of my quality for the price you're willing to pay," he replied in a dry voice, tinged with rigid dignity.

"Why do you call me captain when I've asked you to call me Cea when we're not around others?" she asked, knowing he never called her by her name unless they were having sex.

He does have his protocols to follow, she thought with amusement.

"I am not comfortable with casual forms of address to one's owner." Malcolm glared at her posture. "What is your full name anyway? Why won't you tell me? After all, if it's really horrible and you swear me to secrecy, I will be totally incapable of telling anyone about it."

She snuggled deeper into the personal indent on the captain's chair and grinned up at him. "Okay, in that case, I'll tell you but I order you not to tell anyone. Not anyone!"

Malcolm balanced the tray and tilted his head, waiting for her revelation.

Cea sighed. "All right, already! I hate this name but my father loved it, so I'm stuck with it." She sighed again. "It's Bodicea, after an ancient English queen who fought the Romans. She and her daughters rode chariots, wore armor and wielded swords as well as men. My father named me after her," she grumbled.

"I am well aware of the history of that great and noble lady. I fail to see why you are ashamed of her name," Malcolm said, again glaring at the bottoms of Cea's dirty feet as they perched on the command console.

"I'm not ashamed of it!" she snapped. "I just know what kind of fun assholes would have with it. They'd call me 'Body' or the 'Bod' or worse. Besides, I like Cea. It's exotic and, since I pronounce it Chee-ah, it sounds almost like a dangerous animal, a fast cat, doesn't it?" She folded her arms across her chest, tilted her chin at him in a proud manner and showed her teeth in a feral grin.

Malcolm gently swept her feet off the console then placed the molded synthetic plate and cup down beside her. "Will there be anything else, Captain Cea? I have some minor repairs to make on the aft engine and I would like to finish them before shutting down for my recharge."

Noting the addition of her nickname, Cea smiled. "How about some conversation for a change?" she asked while making some minor adjustments to the navigational sensor.

"I am not programmed for intelligent conversation, as you well know, Captain. I was designed to service the ship and you, nothing else," his droll voice intoned.

A full, robust gale of laughter erupted from Cea. "Yeah, I know about your servicing abilities.after the fact." She giggled. "My bargain basement copilot and mechanic turned out to own some very special tools, ones I find very useful." She glanced down at the large bulge in his skintight pants.

"Why do you not employ a real human male if what you desire is mere emotional companionship?" He cocked a black eyebrow at her grin.

She snorted and checked the gauges on the flight console again. "Men! Slimy, lying bastards. I wouldn't have one on a bet," she sneered. Turning back to smile up at him, she added, "Machines are so much more.," the grin broadened, ".reliable."

"I suppose you found that comforting inside prison where only females were available?" He pointedly glanced at the tattoo of a sword piercing a penis that adorned her upper arm. A broad gold band encircling the arm drew attention to the tattoo, instead of covering it.

The grin slipped off Cea's face. "Sometimes, I think your declared lack of emotion is a lie Malcolm. You seem to delight in reminding me of things I'd rather forget." She poked at the image of an Energizer Bunny in the middle of the short, white, sleeveless T-shirt he wore. "And you seem to have a warped sense of humor, too." The grin returned. "Is this your way of protesting your extra-curricular duties?"

He continued to stare down into the icy, pale blue eyes, challenging him to speak the truth. "Yes, it is. Now, is there anything else you require?"

Ignoring the question, Cea grabbed the plasteel plate heaped with crispy Martian sand worms and began to gobble them down. When she finished a third of the delicacy, she noticed Malcolm still standing beside her chair, stiffly at attention, and staring out the front shield screen. "Aren't you going to at least sit with me tonight?" she asked with a playful smirk on her lips. "After all, your positronic brain isn't supposed to feel miffed when I insult you, so I know you're doing nothing but playing at being human again," she added before taking a long draught of the icy green Io water he knew she liked.

Her gaze followed his outside among the stars, finally singling out Beta Centauri, a blue-white star with a glow around its rim. "Beautiful, isn't it? Almost as good as a moon for romance. If you were a human male, you'd be taking advantage of that right now."

She smiled.

Malcolm's broad shoulders quivered, but his expressionless face remained fixed on the shield screen. "I do not play at being human. I am programmed to emulate human behavior. Nothing more." His voice rumbled under the soft synthetic skin of a broad male chest, complete with thick black hair that peeked over the low-scooped neck of his shirt.

Cea studied the masculine face she'd created. The cleft in his chin, laugh lines accentuating a full mouth, a strong jaw with a five o'clock shadow, and a thick black moustache, all combined in a male figure that looked remarkably like a young Sean Connery, an ancient Earth, male movie star who starred in her favorite antique films about a secret agent named James Bond.

She admitted to herself that Malcolm still excited her, even after five months of service. "I dreamed of you Malcolm, created you, slaved to save enough credits to buy you then have you refitted, and now I enjoy you. It is a shame you do not enjoy me as much," she said, watching simulated muscles contract under the tan-colored synthskin of his body.

"I am pleased you enjoy my company, Cea, but I remind you, once again, I was not programmed for emotions, only obedience. I fail to comprehend why you continue to expect pleasure from me. I cannot feel such a thing, or any other human emotion." This time, he turned and met her gaze. Brilliant turquoise eyes processed her image, analyzing her mood and storing the information away in a databank complex and large enough to learn as well as assimilate data.

"Then, why did they label you Malcolm?" she shot right back at him.

"What does my name have to do with anything?" he asked, tilting his head in puzzlement.

She laughed. "For a walking computer, you're sometimes very dense Malcolm. Or didn't you know your name is an acronym? It's short for MALe COhabitational Luxury Mechanism." A giggle bubbled out of her mouth at the look of studied consternation this bit of information evoked. "If that isn't fancy talk for a walking dildo, I don't know what is."

His face cleared. "My point exactly. Dildos do not feel; they only function in the hands of their owner."

Stifling a belly-busting tidal wave of laughter, Cea reached out and stroked the thick ridges of his exposed belly. "Can you not at least believably pretend to enjoy it when I touch you, my pet? It would give me much pleasure to think, even for a few minutes, that a male who looks like you feels great passion for me," she purred while slowly moving her fingertips down toward the skintight black latex pants he wore.