Later in the evening, we sheltered the Kitty in the special cargo hold of Rodrigue’s first generation Falstaff. This prestigious British exploration vessel was christened the Chrome Condor because of its 200-meter wingspan.

“Ready to go!” Rodriguette proclaimed as the two Rolls Royce reactors purred like a storm on Mercury.

Slipping between the solar winds, the three of us set out on our way to the ball. According to the Marquis, the latter took place within a station whose position was only known by the system’s orgadroids: the famous floating manor of the Liddenbürg dynasty.

Our new friend proved to be a remarkable host during the crossing of the Himalia group. He was cordial, very interesting and extremely amusing. He had experienced a thousand adventures through the inhospitable void aboard UN expeditions and TMC war frigates. I saw from the silvery sparks of his glass eyes that none of his stories were a lie.

“I heard on the tube that the Kirkwood Gaps are home to giant worms. Is that true?” Ali asked on the first morning, a chocolate-coated Eggo waffle in hand. All night, she fired questions faster than drinking sodas.

“Nonsense and balivernes!” Rodrigue denied. “However, I met some old Soviet cosmodons out there, savvy?”

“Impossible!” I replied, at least as captivated as my sapiens.

“And yet!” continued the storyteller. Melodramatic, he jumped on the table; his sword whistled over our heads. “Alas, that day, my coward of a coxswain recused herself from fighting! She flew away with my caravel as I was preparing the sailors for battle in the assault pods!”

“Why?” Ali and I asked in chorus.

“To be fully honest, all the rhodium in the universe isn’t worth a scuffle against a nuclear-powered metal giant.”

The aristorobot was right. Even nowadays, a Marine’s cruiser and its escort wouldn’t match these belligerent drifting goliaths.

Our destination pinged on the Chrome Condor’s radar just in time for the ball. And I couldn’t wait to behold the Liddenbürg’s manor. “It is said to be a real castle floating in space,” I reported to Rodrigue while helping him to set up the approach procedure. And it was! Sitting on the main board, I could contemplate on the screens the fortress in forced orbit around an unregistered asteroid. It had suddenly appeared behind a cloud of glittering celestial dust. The estate’s ramparts shone like a comet’s multicolored tail. This strange space station had long white towers with arrow slits and slate roofs where long holographic banners flowed. “A manor?” I exclaimed, my paws against the bridge’s main CRT. “This chimera should be called the ‘Versailles of the Liddenbürg’!”

“Many Children of the Genome will attend this year,” Rodrigue commented as a multitude of exotic ships circled the imposing dungeon. “Notwithstanding, lady Ali will be the most resplendent!”

I chuckled while glancing at the elevator’s opening doors behind us. “My sloven of a partner’s a lot of things but resplendent is n—Sacrebleu!”

The aristorobot didn’t skimp on flattery when my associate joined us to buckle up for the deceleration; and Rodrigue hardly needed to be imaginative because my young sapiens sparkled in this Polish dress of red fabric. The gold bodice perfectly followed her curves and merged at shoulder height with her beautiful curly blond hair. On her bouncing breasts, thanks to the corset, rested a diamond pendant: Rodrigue’s personal gift.

“And you, Monsieur Lee, your mane is as silky as the most gorgeous nebulae,” Rodrigue mentioned as a laser beam guided the Falstaff to the docks. “What is your secret?”

Such a compliment didn’t leave me indifferent. This robot had just climbed another rank as a loyal servant of the feline race.

Once inside, the mansion appeared to be even more beautiful. Gold-embroidered carpets lay on the floor; very pleasant for my paws. Soft pillows with the effigy of a king or queen lost in time adorned each chair; very pleasant for my bum. Each porthole was the size of the Kitty and embellished with silk curtains; very pleasant to sharpen my claws. The rest remained suitable for humans with high ceilings lined with gilding, marble fireplaces, master paintings updated to highlight robots’ legacy, crystal chandeliers, French buffets in real wood. A true fairy tale setting that greatly delighted my sapiens and me.

Yes. I admitted I like fairy tales. Give me a break…

In the Grand Salon, Rodrigue introduced us to all his acquaintances— androids with orgatronic units. All wore a fictitious title. Yet, most of them seemed to see it as a banter carried over the years.

“This exquisite Lapérouse!” snickered one of them with a powdered wig as tall as Big Ben. “Where did you get those beautiful adornments?”

Unlike his companions, Rodrigue took his role as an aristocrat very seriously. That evening, he had more ribbons than usual and wore his highest boots, impeccably waxed. Despite his frivolities, he was still as attractive; force of an imperial aura. “Alas! These are insipid in comparison to yours, Duchesse.” The duchess then giggled before disappearing in the crowd with her dance partner.

By contrast, the humans at the androids’ side—men as women—looked like pirates or brigands despite their far too chic clothes. I wasn’t surprised when I finally identified the crowned head’s partner as José Gacha, a belt’s drug dealer on the run with a substantial bounty.

“Rodrigue, what is this convict doing here, beside the charming… Queen of… Borovia?” I asked our metal-skinned companion.

Ali hanging on his arm, the Marquis turned around to gaze upon the guests: “Queen?” he jeered. “By no means! This delightful person appeared to be the seductive Magnificence Liddenbürg, the eldest daughter of our party-giver and his first heiress. I see she’s in gallant company tonight.”

“Gacha and ‘gallant’ don’t sound well in the same sentence,” I replied, also thinking about the fact that robots could apparently beget children in this out-of-time palace.

My sapiens also recognized the narcotrafficker from Las Pallas. But her mind preferred to focus on the buffet, richly stocked with exquisite dishes. “I didn’t know the robots have to eat until we spent some time with Rodrigue,” she said, as the Marquis vanished to greet a new group of aristorobots and their organic guests.

“I recall telling you once that the first generations of orgatronic units needed fluid and nutrients,” I pointed out to her before reorienting the conversation to my concerns: “Do you recognize this unsightly biped next to the fountain of Champagne?”

“For sure! It’s Gacha. He was in your database the other day.”

“No—I mean yes.” My partner had browsed my database. This couch potato doing her homework was surprising enough to mention it. “But I was talking about the one behind the old Liddenbürg couple, see?”

“The dude with the flamboyant haircut?” she responded as I jumped on her left shoulder. “He looks like that Martian tennis player—Agasi or something.”

“Exactly! But that’s actually Ottis Speck. He’s worth C$27’000 on Gygax—Mercury’s invisible moon,” I said with my paw pressing on her cheek to make her glance on the right. “And there! Near the chocolate fondue! These two noisy geese with chopsticks-like teeth are the Hydra-Morays Sisters of Carmine—C$35’000 per scalp! And these Freaks have four!” They couldn’t be the only ones around. Hijacking this mansion would have made us millionaires! Ali had to check her wrist computer.

“I know what you’re pondering over, smart-ass. And that’s a no,” she chastised, jamming a caviar toast between my fangs. “Enjoy the evening and we’ll catch a few contracts once we leave. They won’t get far with the hangover coming!” As a captain, I had to insist but my associate didn’t see it that way: “I already told you that I’m a princess until midnight, and you’re not going to take that away from me!”

“Did you forget we have to earn a living?” I hold on while jumping back on the table. “At least, reckon that it can’t be a coincidence and w—”

“Oh my god, Lee! I don’t give a fuck!” she stopped me, raising her hand to bring attention to the sumptuous party. “I need all this, okay? I’m enjoying myself for the first time in months! Can’t you understand that I need a break? A break from the Alliance and their Purges—from the Marine’s shady experiments, Triads rapists and cagey data-thieves who disappeared for months without a word—a break from my fucking miserable life!” As our evening’s atmosphere immediately darkened, I heard her sigh. “Listen, Lee. I just don’t want blood on my face tonight…”

“Alright. I understand,” I huffed while withdrawing from the table, the tail straightened; hurt like never before. “I beg your pardon for being part of your miserable life…”

“It’s not what—come on! Don’t be sulky!”