Alinked cluster of robot drones scuttled over the Dream Voyager‘s hull as the craft sat in a drydock structure that spanned an artificial crater on the spaceport grounds. Tiny machines crawled into exhaust ports and scoured the reactor chambers, a coordinated army of maintenance units repairing the damage inflicted by the League Armada.

Vor and Seurat stood on a platform looking at the drones, confident that the repairs would be completed according to programmed specifications. “Soon, we will be able to depart,” the robot captain said. “You must be anxious for me to defeat you again in our war games.”

“And you must be anxious to tell more jokes that I will not find amusing,” Vor countered.

He did feel restless to be back aboard the Dream Voyager, but Vor also had a different sort of impatience, an ache in his chest that grew worse every time he thought of Erasmus’s beautiful house slave. Despite Serena Butler’s complete dismissal of him, he could not stop thinking about her.

Worst of all, he did not understand why. Because of his paternal ties, Vor Atreides had enjoyed numerous pleasure slaves, some as lovely as this one. They had been bred and trained for their duties, and lived in captivity among the thinking machines. But the female house slave of Erasmus, despite having been brought to the robot’s villa against her will, gave no impression that she was defeated.

Vor could see her face, the fullness of her lips, the penetrating gaze of her lavender eyes as she looked at him with displeasure. Even though her pregnancy showed, he was still drawn to her, and felt a strange simmering jealousy. Where was her lover? Who was he?

When Vor returned to Erasmus’s villa, she would undoubtedly ignore or insult him again. Nonetheless, he looked forward to seeing her before he and Seurat departed on another long update run. He practiced what he might say to her, but even in his imagination she could dance circles around him with her wit.

Vor climbed a ladder on the drydock framework and crawled into a narrow interior wall space, where he watched a maintenance drone lay down new webs of liquid circuitry for the main navigation panel. The scarlet drone worked efficiently with its built-in tools. Vor inched deeper into the confined area and peered at the open panel, noting the dizzying pattern of colored components.

“You will be disappointed if you expect to catch it making a mistake,” Seurat said from behind him. “Or are you attempting your frequently threatened sabotage again?”

“I am a dirty hrethgir. You can never tell what I might do, old Metalmind.”

“The fact that you do not laugh at my jokes indicates that you have insufficient intelligence to institute such a devious plan, Vorian Atreides.”

“Maybe you’re just not funny.”

Unfortunately, banter and repair activities did not distract Vor from thoughts of Serena. He felt like a giddy boy, exhilarated and confused at the same time. He wanted to talk to someone about his feelings, but not his robot friend, who had even less understanding of women than Vor did.

Rather, he needed to talk with Serena. Perhaps with her insight and intelligence, she had seen through him and didn’t like what she saw. She had called him “a kept slave who cannot see his chains.” A baffling insult, considering all the privilege in his life. He had no idea what she meant.

The repair drone finished tracing the high-flux paths of an electronic module, then switched tools to tune a data-collection port. The machine’s slender arm extruded farther out so it could interface with an adjustment pad deep inside the panel.

Standing inside the Dream Voyager‘s cockpit, Seurat powered up the ship’s primary controls, using built-in diagnostics to verify the navsystems. “I have discovered an interesting shortcut to our second stop on the update route. Unfortunately, it entails flying directly through a blue-giant star.”

“In that case, I’d advise a different route,” Vor said.

“I concur, though I dislike wasting time.”

He wondered what would happen to Serena when the baby was born. Would Erasmus assign it to the slave pens to keep it from interfering with Serena’s duties? For the first time in his life, Vor found himself empathizing with a captive human.

As a valued trustee, he had always considered himself part of the Synchronized Worlds, and he looked forward to becoming a neo-cymek someday. He believed that Omnius ruled humans for their own good; otherwise, the galaxy would crumble into unguided chaos.

He was accustomed to situations where one party was dominant and the other submissive. For the first time he wondered if there could be other types of relationships, on an equal, cooperative basis. The robot captain of the Dream Voyager was clearly Vorian’s master, but they had a productive partnership.

Vor wondered if he and Serena could go a step further and form a relationship in which the two of them treated each other with complete equality. It was a radical concept, one that jarred his sensibilities. And yet, he didn’t think she would accept anything less.

Wedged into a narrow space behind the bulkhead and the navigation panel, the maintenance drone made odd sounds, signaling to itself in staticky gibberish, repeating test connections over and over.

With a sigh, Vor said to the drone, “Here, let me try that tool.”

The drone spun toward him and surrendered the diagnostic probe, but part of its metal-film extensions crossed a connection in the exposed circuit field, and a hot jolt of electricity struck like a hammer. It squealed. The stench of melted circuits and fused hydraulics curled up from the now-ruined system panel.

Vorian scrambled out of the confined space, then wiped a hand across his forehead. Seurat scanned the damaged drone and the blackened components of the ship’s navsystem. “It is my expert assessment that we need to perform a bit more maintenance here.”

When Vor laughed at the comment, Seurat was surprised. “Why do you find that funny?”

“Never ask someone to explain humor, Seurat. Just accept the laughter.”

After shutting down the power supply, Vor removed the blistered, malfunctioning drone and dropped it with a clatter onto the deck. These units were expendable. Seurat transmitted a request for a new drone.

While they waited for the repairs to continue, Vor shored up his resolve. Collecting his questions, he mentioned the quandary of his feelings. Perhaps something in the robot’s database would be useful.

Embedded in his smooth face, the robot’s optic threads twinkled like tiny suns. “I do not understand your problem,” Seurat said while he uploaded a diagnostic summary from one of the ship’s databanks. “You have appropriate standing among the thinking machines. Submit a request to Erasmus.”

Vor was exasperated. “It’s not like that, Seurat. Even if Erasmus transfers Serena to me . . . what if she refuses me?”

“Then widen your search. You make this unnecessarily difficult. Among the human candidates on Earth, you will easily find a compatible female, even one with features similar to this particular slave, if you value her physical attributes so much.”

Vor wished he had never brought up the subject. “Thinking machines can be utterly stupid at times.”

“You have never expressed such emotions to me before.”

“That’s because I never felt this way before.”

Seurat froze in place. “I am intellectually aware of the human biological imperative to mate and reproduce. I am familiar with the physical differences between men and women, and of the hormonal urges you have. Given acceptable genetics, most female reproductive systems are essentially the same. Why should this Serena be more desirable than any other?”

“I could never explain it to you, old Metalmind,” Vor said, as he looked through a porthole and watched another drone marching across the drydock platform toward the ship. “I can’t even explain it to myself.”

“I hope you figure it out soon. I cannot afford to keep replacing maintenance drones.”