“The missiles will not catch us. And we are being lit up by at least three overlapping civilian radar systems and two military sources. Not to mention visual sightings by any number of observatories and amateur astronomers. The Loranna will have a great deal of difficulty suppressing this event.”

“Fun times,” I said. “Okay, Sheldon. Cloak us and let’s head, uh, home.”

Chapter Thirty-Six: The Big Reveal

Chapter Thirty-Six: The Big Reveal

Day 29. Friday morning

I reflexively pulled at the T-shirt collar. My new clothes didn’t feel quite right. Sheldon insisted that the form and weight were identical to those of the originals, but the actual experience was just a little bit off. From the shifting and squirming of Patrick and Nat, I assumed they were noticing a difference as well.

Still, it wasn’t uncomfortable, just different enough. Like wearing silk instead of cotton. I’d probably get used to it in an hour or two, and that would be that. The clothes looked normal enough. Not shiny, at least, thank God. Jeans, tees, a jean jacket for Nat, one of those weird-ass blingy hoodies that Patrick seemed to love, nothing that would raise an eyebrow out in public. Well, maybe the hoodie, but that wasn’t Sheldon’s fault.

And our old clothes had been getting a little gamey. Despite Sheldon’s pleas, we’d opted to have our clothes cleaned instead of burned. And the showers helped. The Gennan toilet facilities might have been spartan, but their showers were bordering on decadent, with infinite hot water, settable in about half-degree increments. Apparently for a furred sentient, a shower was something more than just a luxury.

I finished my breakfast and returned the bowl to the auto-attendant. One of the advantages of an alien spaceship, anyway: no dishwashing.

“Have you noticed the lack of automation?” Nat said behind me.

“What? It does the dishes,” I replied. “How is that a lack of automation?”

“Not what I meant,” Nat replied. “I mean there’s very little in the way of visible stuff. No robots. There’s no Roomba running around cleaning the floor, no mechanical butler fetching things for us, and the auto-attendant is designed so you never see the internals. How does Sheldon maintain himself, for instance? I’d visualize some kind of spiderlike robot, roaming around fixing things, but so far, nada.”

“We could just ask him.”

“Been meaning to, but we’ve been a little busy, know what I mean?”

I nodded, just as Sheldon said, “Since you ask, even though you didn’t, you’re correct, Nat. The Gen consider mechanical servants such as you describe to be, erm, something between gauche and offensive. There’s no real English equivalent. On the other hand, they’re quite happy to not do their own dishes, so a considerable amount of effort is put into making sure that they have all the modern conveniences but that nothing shows.”