Chapter 7

Xerian woke up fully charged, but still slightly sleepy. The cameras inside his head came out of standby and confirmed that he was still in crazy land instead of the peaceful one he called home.
His internal clock was indicating some ungodly hour - not only was he in a strange timezone, but the length of the day was different. He recalibrated as best he could, and then suddenly realised that he was wearing gloves. Xerian swore to himself.

"Good morning," the panther robot said as he opened the door. "Hope you slept well. Want me to take you to Jakob?"

"If that's okay," Xerian confirmed. "By the way, you didn't let anyone in during the night, did you...?"

"Certainly not," the panther said, sounding slightly offended.

"Well, I woke up wearing these gloves," Xerian said, gesturing a shiny hand. "But since some people here can walk through walls..."

"That sounds just like something Daryil would do," the panther sighed, padding down the corridor with the Synth in tow. "He probably teleported into your room. I wish they wouldn't do that, it makes a mockery of us guarding the place..."

* * *

Jakob was shirtless himself now, wearing the same shiny opera gloves that Daryil favoured. Xerian's eyes flicked towards him in askance.

"I was dressing more formally for your benefit," Jakob said. "But I figured it's time to let my hair down as you get more used to us anyway. Concealing who we are has got my kind into a lot of trouble, after all.
"What do you think of those gloves, by the way? We took your measurements while you were being repaired, just in case. Some Mythos races have two fingers and a thumb so it wasn't too hard to find some that should suit..."

"I woke up with them on," Xerian said sheepishly. "I think Daryil did that, but I'm worried he'll be offended if I remove them..."

"They look good on you," Jakob said encouragingly. "Keep them on for a bit longer."

"Maybe you're right," the Synth replied, doubtfully. "It's not like anyone from home is going to see me like this..."

"In any case, you don't have to conform perfectly to a specific gender identity at all," Jakob pointed out. "Anyway, what do you want to do today? Anything you want to see, people you'd like to meet, things you'd like to know about the world? I could take you into the desert and up an high mountain to meet Real Daryil if you want."

"I'm concerned about my ship," Xerian said. "Is it still outside?"

"We've got engineers working on moving it inside the complex. Then we'll have a better idea of how we can start to repair it. I take it the ship doesn't have a nanite repair system of its own?"

"Not really. That works better for systems that need to be constantly powered, like me. A ship gets shut down at the end of the flight."

Jakob glanced down at L-TRK. "You can return to your regular duties for now," he said. "We may need you again in the evening." The robotic jaguar made a saluting gesture with one paw and began to pad away.

"Does he have to go?" Xerian interjected. "I'd prefer if he stayed."

"Oh...?" Jakob looked a little surprised, and the panther halted and glanced back at them.

"I don't know... I find his presence strangely comforting," the Synth admitted. "Maybe because I'm part-panther now, if I understand you correctly..."

"Fair enough," Jakob said, beckoning at the panther with a black-gloved hand. "I figured you'd be worried he was spying on you or something... Still, we have enough panthers to spare one as a guide for you, if that's what you want."

"Thank you!"

"Try not to spoil him," Jakob said.

"Well, I do need some downtime," the panther pointed out.

"Yeah, get someone else to cover for you tonight," Jakob said. "We'll give you time in lieu for the extra shifts."

"They're unionised?" Xerian asked, looking at the panther.

"No, but I have suggested it," Jakob said. "We've finally been allowed to start rolling them out to the rest of the world. But unlike in their home realm they're not slaves, and they must be subject to the usual working hours directives. I insisted on that with the Being-Creature Commission."

"Where was their home realm?" Xerian queried, interestedly.

"As I mentioned, our panthers were built from technology I stole from another dimensional plane," Jakob said. "When I was looking to start building androids here, I had access to a machine that allows for dimensional travel.
"I visited your world, Xerian. I had intended to steal Synth technology and bring it here. Had I not already acquired detailed specs from your homeland, we would surely have had to stick you into a native body such as the panthers or wolves.
"But as I have mentioned, we found the technology was not suitable for use in our own realm.

"Does the travel machine still exist?" Xerian asked excitedly. "Could I use it to get home...?"

"I'm afraid not. The event that booted the Dragons out of our world involved a change at the cosmic level, it also stopped the machine from functioning," Jakob sighed. "Besides, it was never entirely safe. Once I had obtained the technology I needed, I never really used it since."

Xerian looked thoughtful for a moment. "Why did you do this at all?" he asked suddenly. "The way you tell it, you risked being... e-executed, or whatever terrible death the travel machine would mete out if it went wrong, all to build a bunch of robot cats! Were they really that important?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Jakob shrugged. Then he grinned. "I kid. While 'Cubi are an emotional and flighty race, prone to doing weird things on a whim, I had a definite reason for taking such risks.
"Strictly, the panthers were a proof-of-concept," the wolf explained. "They are sentient guard robots I rescued from a totalitarian world, and I have built more of them locally to ensure I understood the technology of their neuroprocessors.
"But acquiring such technology allowed me to create androids who are almost indistinguishable from a normal Furre. That is what I was risking death or obliteration for. But there is a deeper, more personal angle to it as well."

"I don't know how long your kind live, Xerian, or how long members of your creator race live for, but my kind stays young for a thousand of our years before we start to age and die.
"I was reaching the point where I would begin ageing again, and I wanted to forestall that. We embarked on several projects - one of which was to boost our innate energy so that we could use rejuvenation magic far beyond its usual effectiveness. Traditionally, creatures who survived into old age would resort to eating souls... It kind of made sense if you were desperate enough, that killing just one little person - who'd soon age and die anyway - would give you maybe another thousand years of youth.
"I wanted to achieve the same results, but using an artificial energy source instead of destroying some poor unfortunate. And we did get that working in the end.
"Daryil's ascension has helped as well - members of a Tri-winged clan tend to have longer lives before they age. But I digress. The purpose of the android project was to build a suitable body which my soul could be transferred into if need be. And I also wanted to give others that chance too, not least my old friend and mentor, Lord Page."

Jakob paused and looked sad. "I've done... questionable things, Xerian," the wolf said.
"Long centuries ago, I was a tyrant. I got better," he added quickly as Xerian gave him an appalled look. "When I finally came to my senses, I left that kingdom. But... I wanted to try and make amends for the people I killed, the lives I ruined, all the people who lived in terror of my wrath."

"Each time you tell me about your world, I learn something worse," Xerian remarked, shaking his head.

"It's better than it has been," Jakob sighed. "Had you arrived a mere two centuries ago, I wouldn't like to think what would have happened to you..."

"Ah, Yak," a voice said. Turning, they saw a tigress demon, pastel blue with dark blue stripes, and wearing a yellow hard hat.

"This is Eliza," Jakob said, glancing at Xerian. "She's been managing the recovery of your ship."

"Ah, so this is the owner!" the Demon exclaimed, appraising Xerian. "We've managed to melt the ice surrounding the vessel, and lifted it onto a transport. We should have it safely inside Hangar 03 within the hour."

The Synth made an expression of relief.

"Don't worry, we could probably have built a new one," Jakob said. "We don't have transstellar capability, but if Bob was able to give you a lift to an inhabited world in your universe, it would barely matter."

"I guess so..." Xerian said, "But... well, the cargo. That's just as important as the ship... if not more so."

"Really?" Jakob looked curious. "What is it? Something valuable?"

"I don't know," Xerian said simply. Eliza looked at him curiously.

"It's not mine," Xerian protested. "I was delivering it to the planet Varius. It was a courier job... you don't open other people's post!"

"Oh, you're a space mailman," Jakob said. Xerian frowned slightly.

"Freelance delivery agent," the Synth insisted. "Our civilisation does have bulk postage between worlds, but it takes a long time. You need something delivered promptly? You hire someone to transport it. Someone like me.

"Like a motorcycle courier," Eliza added. Jakob had a slightly dreamy look for a few moments.

"'Cubi," Eliza smirked, as Xerian glanced at her in askance. "Easily distracted by thoughts of tight, shiny clothing. It's amazing they get anything done at all."

"It takes willpower," Jakob said, snapping out of it. "And that's another reason we dress weird, it helps build up an immunity. I've been dressing more like an accountant for the last week to make a good first impression and it's worn off a little.
"Anyway, I get the point... you were delivering a parcel, it's still in the ship and you feel responsible for it, even though this ordeal is an Act of Gods and not your fault at all."

"Yes," Xerian said. "It looks like this particular parcel is going to be very, very late."

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Chapter 8: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/38180078/
Chapter 1: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/36864702/