It was something of a deja vu, entering a space station through the hard vacuum of spa an open hangar. But this time it was not to repair the ship.

  The airlock to the trol room could not be vented. o vent, there was no air oher side. The elongated airlock hatch easily swung open to reveal a se of destru. A huge and very dead monster cat, bloody and missing one arm, swayed gently in the low gravity o the door across the room. Nearly twice Rerra's size, with massive cws that had scratched ahe massive steel hinges of the other door. The cause of death was obvious, the monster cat had tried to get out. "Suffocated." He swallowed bile.

  But Rerra was elsewhere. "Rarrar," she called over the radio. She was looking behind the row of scorched dispys and trols. Then she dived down, lifting a rge, badly mutited cat from the small space behind the terminals. Her fur may have been grey but she was covered over and over with brown dried blood. Her left forearm was missing, and her right cw had only three fingers, still clutg a bloody rivet gun. And she had blown a hole in her head with it. He turned away.

  "By the great Kerrentes, help us!" He was nious, but with so much death around, the prayer helped to focus.

  "Rarrar!" This time Rerra wailed the name. "It was not your time." She banged her hand on the broken ss, many times, until faint wailing was all that came over the radio.

  Then he came over, tapped her shoulder and opened his arms. The thinsuits were not that thin. Thus, it was much more symbolic. But Rerra’s shaking stopped. They embraced in plete silence, except for the faint whisper of the airflow from his thinsuit's life support.

  "You were close?"

  "Coworker," she whispered, ignorantly amplified to normal loudness by the radio.

  He ran his gloved hand over her sides as the back had the hard life-support unit. He cursed the stupid thinsuits, he wao fort her. But her sobbing and wailing stopped.

  "Thanks." And she pushed him gently away. "Let's find a trol terminal."

  That certainly distracted her enough. He learnt quite a few swear words while she tried to wake up at least oerminal. So he learned about half of the ungrateful extended family of Hopkins II while they drifted down the row of destroyed terminals and trol ss, lit by three lonely overhead strips. The only thing in this room that worked. The deep cw marks made it clear that some of the terminal had beeroyed by the monster.

  "I think it tried to stop the venting."

  She still had a new one, "Balding idiot. e."

  Before she closed the airlock hatch, she bowed to her dead colleague.

  He followed her through the hangar, almost floating in the low-g jumps along the ship to the other side, to another airlock. It was without power and had to be cycled manually. But the cloud f at the purge exhaust meant there ressure oher side.

  Rerra went first, after showing him the procedure. Which was unneeded. Any spacer capable of walking could operate an airlock manually. Even without the instrus in five written scripts and the pis.

  She waited oher side with her helmet off.

  He unlocked it too. The air smelled strange, but then each station had its distinctive aroma and so had Hopkins II. And the air was cold and dry, colder and drier than even in the cockpit. He was grateful for his thinsuit. "Where now?"

  "We have to get to the hub!"

  It was so good to hear her real voice again unfiltered by the radio.

  "Wait!" He hugged her again, at least feeling her muzzle o his fad ruffling her hair. "You are better?"

  After a moment of surprise, she hugged him back forcibly, rubbing her muzzle o his ear. "No, not," she whispered

  "I'm sorry," he whispered.

  "She was a good cat."

  He didn't know what to say. So he just held her. Each of her breaths took longer and longer until she was rexed again. She lifted her muzzle gently from his neck.

  "We tinue?"

  "I don't know." She sighed and took her pad from her pocket. ", not even here. And so much blood in the air."

  He sniffed. Blood? If she said so. "Close?"

  "No faint, just carried by the life support." She hesitated, shook her head again. "But first we need a terminal with administrative access. There are several pces. The main trol tre is in the hub. But it's probably sealed off because that's the one everyone knows about. Then there are sedary ones, like the shipyard. Another one is at Flight trol. But Flight trol robably the first to be taken over or destroyed or they would have answered. This station needs ining ships."

  "So where to?"

  "Outwards. Let's go to the office first."

  * * *

  They had to cross the shipyard to get to the office. The lighting was dim, just tiny emergency spots. But otherwise, the shipyard was untouched. It was rather depressing for a shipyard, more reminding him of a shady repair shop on a third-css world outside the main trade lines, where tinfoil and spit were the main ingredients. More than once he had brought ships on their st travel to such pces.

  Before the office was the long dder. Twenty metres or more; not much of a physical challenge. But like most spacers, he was not used to being high up in wide spaces with gravity. He preferred to follow her rump iight thinsuit, her tail bulging below the suit.

  Gratefully, he took her hand a her lift him into the dark offio power, the only light ing from the low glow of the emergency lights in the shipyard shining through the rge window. It was enough to see the mutited corpse, skinned and half-eaten.

  Rerra stood and sniffed. "No," she whispered.

  "Do you know who?"

  "Not sure," she whispered again.

  Outside in the corridor, most of the lights were on, blinding him. His breath was still making clouds.

  "I think it's safe," and she took off her thinsuit, packed it into a small bundle and hooked it to her belt. Just a bck t-shirt and shorts, while he froze from breathing the crisp air.

  "Let's head for the stairwell."

  He followed her steps, keeping to the right side of the corridor. It was divided by a dried bloody trail, sometimes faint, sometimes thicker, which also led to the stairwell. At least it got faihe closer they got.

  The stairs were long. At first, they stopped at each level, listening and Rerra was sniffing. Given the bloodstains, quite some injured people had moved down these stairs. But they never smelled, heard or saw anyone. Every level or two, arail of blood stains joihe stairs down until there was no way to avoid them. As the stair's flrew darker, the gravity increased, as if the wounded had been pulled down by it.

  He had fottearting floor level. Now they had just passed level 5 and the gravity was already strohan on Fallerian. " we have a break?" he huffed, the fans of his thinsuit w full time despite the cold.

  Rerra walked a few more steps before stopping and turning to him. "Just one more level and then we stop at the den."

  "Okay," he huffed and tinued even slower. Rerra waited at the door for level 3. Thankfully, the bloody trail tinued down and only a few dried drops from this level had joi. The heavy door was unlocked, but Rerra's muscles still bulged as she tore it open. The corridor oher side was lit in night mode ay. She silently closed the door behind him and led him a short way down the corridor to a dark regle in the wall, not far from a blood smear on the wall and a dried brown pat the floor. Cursive writing appeared on the door, a cursive he had never been taught. Rerra tapped her fingers on the door in a pattern and it began to open.

  Running could be heard. Her cry, "It's me, Rerra," did not stop it. A cat appeared at the opening door, a long, broad knife in front of her. She was taller than Rerra, but much fluffier and less muscur. Which was hard to miss as she was naked. Even with the bde she did not look threatening. The knife dropped: "Rerra, you really are back! e, e."

  Rerra's stro hand pulled him inside before he could move. Guiltily, he looked to her who was already introdug him to the fluffy cat. "Good to see you well. This is Marik, my current business partner from Fallerian." Theuro him, "Eli from Petra, head of Petra Catering. We challenge you to find a better meal on Hopkins II." She sighed. "I could really use a det meal."

  If the big, fluffy Eli had any bare skin, he was sure she would blush. She gnced bad two more cats emerged from the room on the left. Both less fluffy, but still with longer fur than Rerra. And taller too, the same height as Eli. They looked younger, and they were oo. Their knives now properly poi the ground. Instead, they all began to smile, their toothy cat smiles. He moved closer to Rerra.

  The left cat put her empty left paw oomad bowed. "Human Marik of Fallerian, wele to Petra den. I am Kit." Now the other cat bowed, "Tab, at your service." Both bowed long and deep, their tails doing a hypnotice, clearly wanting to tell him something.

  As a tailless creature, he had no idea how to respond. He wasn't eveo bowing. Most Fallerians could not even bow with their exoskeletons. Nor had it been the on any of the distant worlds oher side of the gaxy that he had visited. He leaned forward a little. "Marik, o meet you," more a stammer than a prreeting. He did not want to stare, but these attractive bd white striped cats, very exoti the tip of their long tails to the rest. He g to Rerra's upper arm with his left hand. While not the tallest, she was still the stro cat in the room by a margin.

  Eli came closer, took his other hand and put it on her shoulder. It was almost floating ohick fur. "Cchischter chare everyg," she purred. He hadn't registered her lisp earlier, was that on purpose?

  "Eli, here!" Rerra had an inhator and pressed it into Eli's other paw. "Don't molest Marik, please."

  Eli blinked a few times, then took it forcefully so that her cws were exposed and took a deep breath. She let go of his hand and tossed the inhator to Kit.

  "We've got water. You better chower." The stress alpable in those few words from Eli.

  Rerra unceremoniously pushed him away from the other two disappointed looking cats and across the tiny lobby. She opened a drawer and took out a bathrobe. "Put your clothes in the washer and then take a shower."

  "Sorry, what?"

  "Horny cats without suppressant hit on the human. Will happen again, but the er you are, the less of a problem. So shower, bathroom's door."

  "Oh." He remembered his first enter with her. If those cats felt the same ...

  He quickly undressed a into the bathroom, only wearing the robe for ter. When the lock clicked, he rexed a little. But the goosebumps in the cold air demanded warm water.

  The shower trols were different, and even the warmest setting would send half the native Fallerian popution into cor. He kept the shower short and then discovered that the third trol started a giant hairdryer. Again on the cool side, but at least warmer than the air ihroom. And without any fur, he was dry in moments, enjoying the flow of lukewarm air.