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to think. Carefully, Edward poured boiling water into the pot, steam swirling about his hand.
    “Saskia,” said Maurice urgently.
    “What?” she said.
    “I think you’d better look. It’s the Stranger. I’ll put him on the main viewing field.”
    Edward put down the kettle and came forward. There was a shimmer in the air between the white sofas and another Eva Rye appeared there. It was not quite the old Eva Rye, just as their ship was no longer the old Eva Rye . The ship that floated in the middle of the room was still a rainbow of colors, only now there was some pattern to them. A glorious reproduction of the Mandelbrot set trailed along its teardrop hull, the squashed heart and wandering branches of the shape defined in heartbreakingly beautiful silver and rose.
    “Oh, not the bloody Mandelbrot set again,” muttered Maurice. “We’ve wandered into a twentieth-century SF novel.”
    Edward was leaning forward to get a better view. “It’s nice, but I think I like our ship better,” he breathed.
    “Shhh,” hissed Saskia, waving a dismissive hand at him. “Maurice, zoom in on the front of the ship, between the two main lobes of the Mandelbrot set.”
    “I was doing that already,” grumbled Maurice, sliding a finger along the surface of the console.
    The Eva Rye expanded, centering on the twisted cross of the Stranger, his four legs twisted downwards with tendrils spread out to grip the multicolored pattern of the hull.
    “Hello there, Edward, Maurice, Miss Rose, Saskia!”
    The Stranger twisted the four glassy lenses on its upper surface to face them as it spoke. Edward supposed Miss Rose must be watching this scene from her room.
    “What’s going on?” asked Saskia. Edward thought she sounded annoyed at being mentioned last.
    “Merely fulfilling the last part of our deal,” said the Stranger. “The Eva Rye was never going to work with the mix of people you had on board. I’ve merely rationalized your systems.”
    Saskia was staring at Edward. Her lips were narrowing.
    Maurice spoke up. “Could we speak to the others?” he asked quickly.
    “You can do whatever you like,” said the Stranger. “Here, allow me to help you.”
    The viewing field split in two, the lower area opening up to show the living area on the other Eva Rye . Joanne stood on deep red carpet, a look of immense satisfaction on her face. She was wearing a tailored green suit that complemented her red hair. It also made her breasts stand out more, Edward noticed.
    “Hello there, everybody,” she said. “Gosh, I like the black-and-white theme! What do you think of our ship?”
    “It’s very nice,” said Saskia through gritted teeth, taking in the rich golds and reds of the floor and furnishings of the other living area. “And how are you, Captain ?”
    Joanne gave a little smile.
    “Just call me Joanne,” she said. “We’re all fine. We’re taking the Stranger to his destination, then we’re going to follow a lead he sold us. Isn’t that right, Michel?”
    Michel was sitting on a red-and-gold sofa, tapping at a console and looking more relaxed than he had seemed in weeks.
    “That’s right,” he said. He gave a sudden gulp of laughter. “Hey, I’ve just realized. We’ve got all your colors! You’ve got all of our black and white. The Stranger has a sense of humor.”
    “Obviously,” said Maurice tightly.
    “Hello, Craig!” called Edward, walking up to the viewing field with the teapot in his hand.
    “Careful, Edward,” said Craig warningly. “Don’t spill that tea!”
    “Are you coming back?” asked Edward.
    Craig looked guilty. “I don’t think we can at the moment. But I’m sure we’ll meet up again sometime.”
    “Oh.” Edward felt a heavy weight settle in his stomach. He looked at the floor through blurry eyes.
    “What do you mean, you don’t think you can?” Maurice called out. He was fiddling with his console, checking local space. “You’ve certainly wasted no time in putting some