Chapter 1

I woke ... reluctantly.

Reluctantly, not because of the sweet voice nagging me to do so, or the pressure of a shapely body against me – either would normally be well worth waking up for.

A year after my first landing I was still every bit as enamoured of Romy, avatar of Andromeda, the self-aware computer which managed the planet we also called Andromeda. Romy, constructed specifically to please me, to interface between me and Andromeda, the computer. Constructed initially to keep me there. Constructed so effectively ... I fell in love with her ... it.

No. I was reluctant to wake partly because she ... Okay, I know I'm talking about a construct, not an organic person, but bear with me; I just can't think of her as an 'it' ... tired me out very effectively the previous night. Actually, it was more like early this morning when I finally dropped into an exhausted slumber. I mean, think of your personal ideal partner brought to life – physically, intellectually and emotionally a perfect match – if not actually human, then so perfect an imitation and so fully functional as to be indistinguishable from the real thing.

I was also reluctant because as the Governor representing Old Earth here on Andromeda, I was due for a meeting to discuss the planet ecology and the possibility of introducing Earth species, as well as further immigration. To date, the growing number of humans on the planet were all professionals from the 'Exploration' part of 'Exploration and Colonisation' who would probably, for the most part, move on to other projects in time.

It would be my first such serious meeting since my formal appointment a couple of months previous and I still wasn't at all sure about it. I was a pilot for God's sake, not a politician. The only reason I was still there and accepting the post at all was laying in bed beside me. I rolled toward her and stroked my hand up her thigh, over her hip to her shoulder. "I don't want to go," I said, petulantly.

She rubbed noses with me and brushed my lips with hers, in the process, pressing her taut breasts and erect nipples against my chest. "But you will, Hex ... won't you? For me?" Said in honey-sweet tones.

I rolled her onto her back and loomed over her. Her legs spread beneath me, but even were there time (and, by God, I was the Governor ... they couldn't start without me) there was no way after the previous night I had any chance of managing a serious erection, even for Romy. There was a definite stirring, to be sure. "You know me, Romy. I would anyway, even if there were any way I could refuse you anything."

"Let's shower, then."

Showering with Romy ... always a delight. The Planetary Governor ... Me! ... accompanied by his personal assistant, who happened to be the Planetary Representative ... arrived at the conference room in one of the buildings at the spaceport. I wasn't formally dressed; I didn't see any point in getting high-falutin' – if anything formal was needed, there was always uniform. So I was in soft khaki denim and Romy in one of the robes or gowns I thought of as 'Grecian'.

"Good morning, sir." A youngish couple stood as we entered; it was the man who spoke. I'd met them briefly when they first arrived, months before.

"Simon, is it? Peggy?"

"Yes sir," they chorused. "Sir ... I'm told you can interface with AV equipment here?"

"Romy?" I turned to my ... mate? PA? Lover?"

"Done," she smiled, as an area in the centre of the table shimmered and displayed a representation of the E. & C. logo hovering a foot or so above the table.

"Wow!" The girl, Peggy, sighed. "What technology! Captain Finch ... sir ... Ma'am ... shall we begin?"

"I think we'd better wait a few moments for Colonel Abercromby, don't you? There's no hurry, I think, and we are a little early."

The Colonel entered the room on the dot of nine, followed by his most junior (and most attractive) assistant, Sergeant Katsinski. Anya. When I'd returned to Andromeda and met the good Colonel for the first time, Anya was the only one of his team who appeared to have any human tendencies. Then, and since, she'd always had a smile for me. If it hadn't been for Romy I'd have been very tempted to make a pass at her. Tall at five foot ten, long dark brown hair usually gathered into some sort of bun at the back of her head revealing her shapely neck, medium, athletic build, sculptured features, curved lips suggesting sensuality...

"Governor..." the Colonel inclined his head. "I hope we haven't kept you waiting?"

"Moments only," I reassured him, then smiled. "I think we might get along more expeditiously with a little less formality ... James."

He sighed, then smiled too. "Very well, Hex. Ma'am..." as he acknowledged Romy.

Romy smiled ... those dimples... "Colonel. Romy will do well, Colonel."

"Very well, Ma'am ... Romy. Given names all round, then, for now." But he then grinned at the two ecologists and his assistant, "or whatever is most comfortable..."

The smiles on the faces of the two ecologists were a little sickly.

"So..." the Colonel looked round expectantly.

"Sirs, Ma'am..." the man spoke first, "I'm Simon Pendle, and my colleague is Peggy ... that is, Margaret ... Smith. I need to start by saying that, no matter what we'd like to think, we do not have an absolute understanding of xeno-ecology. Also, our report must be considered preliminary; it would take decades and a much bigger team to compile anything comprehensive."

"I think we can take that as read, Simon," I interjected, "but it will go in the record."

"Thank you, sir. Peggy?"

"This is an impoverished ecology," the woman said. "Also, I believe, a fragile one, with, for the most part, only one species for each niche, and no large fauna at all, as you've noticed." She paused and looked round. "What's interesting is that the chemistry and biology of the planet appears to be completely compatible with that of Earth. We could almost certainly grow food crops here that would be fully nutritious. That is good from one perspective. However, it is likely that anything we import would become invasive and out compete the native species. It might be the other way round, but I don't think so. Similarly with fauna. We cannot import animals without also importing micro-organisms than would interfere with the existing ecology. That, Sirs, Ma'am, is the substance of our report, though we've dressed it up in enough jargon to satisfy the bureaucrats at home."

There was a pregnant silence. Some sporadic clearing of throats never quite turned into speech. Romy's hand found mine. She was the first to speak.

"As I understand it ... introducing Terran flora and fauna will either fail or, most likely, out compete the native species?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And that ... Romy ... would contravene our colonisation rules. Destroying a native ecology on a planet with a sentient presence is a big no-no," the Colonel inserted gravely.

"But if the ... ruling sentient ... made it a request? Not to destroy, but to take a chance?"

"Might work. But might require a personal representation on Old Earth. It would be your decision."

"No, it would be Hex's."

"Law says, native sentience, not Governor."

"Our law says property owner. That would be Hex. Not 'the Governor', Hex."

He frowned. I turned to Romy.

"You're going to lay this on me?"

Her expression was sombre. "I have to. It's how I'm programmed."

Oh, my ... I hated to be reminded of the nature of Romy's existence.

There was a further silence. One might even say, a pregnant pause.

"Romy ... you wanted your planet repopulated..."

"Yes, Hex. That's why I brought you here. Not you, specifically, of course..."

"But you wanted a functioning society..." She nodded, and I went on. "So if I ... as the 'Owner', decided to request colonisation, despite the risk to the native ecology, you could ... you would... do what was necessary." It wasn't a question, and Romy knew that. "Only one problem, Beloved. How do you get off planet?"

"I don't, Hex. My Representative does."

I returned to Earth in my little Sprinter (Alpha Ten) courier ship. Romy's ... Andromeda's... 'Representative' residing in a small device mounted on a belt. I had an identical backup for my own waist.

I'd suppose it was strange for the reception committee to be meeting a tiny, one-man courier ship with full diplomatic honours at the John F. Kennedy space-port. (Some day I really ought to find out who the place was named after.)

I wore a Captain's dress uniform, about the most formal thing I could think of, and actuated Andromeda's avatar just before undogging the hatch. She formed, or materialised, or whatever, perfectly presented in one of those flowing gowns. That one had a deep hood and it was a little hard to tell what colours it was; shimmering greens, browns, reds and yellows that baffled the eye.

Romy and I had discussed this part. The avatar was the default, not 'Romy'. A little over six feet tall and hairless, though with the hood over her head that couldn't be seen. Her voice was a rich contralto, deeper than Romy's. My feeling was that she'd be accepted as the representative of an alien species much better if she appeared alien, and that it would be better all round if we ... that is I, really ... could set aside our, my, feelings for the duration.

I followed her out, down the short ramp to the ground, a pace behind. Our reasoning, arrived at after lengthy study of diplomatic protocols and precedent, was that the elected representative of the Federation Council was 'first among equals', so I, as a planetary Governor should defer to him, but that Andromeda, as a guest, should take precedence over all of us. She took some convincing of that, but played her part to perfection. I saluted. She accepted his bow with a graceful incline of her head and a stream of liquid syllables, followed by, "That is, Mister President, I gratefully accept your welcome and hope that we can arrive expeditiously at a mutually acceptable agreement."

"Thank you, Madam..."

"I am best addressed as 'Andromeda', sir. No further honorific is necessary."

We were conducted to a VIP suite – a highly secure and very swish suite – at the New York Hilton. I'd never moved in such circles, but I did know the place had only recently been completely rebuilt to out-luxury one of the other famous hotels. Andromeda had, I'm sure, upset most of the officials by insisting on sharing the suite with me. It did, after all, have two independent rooms, each with its own facilities, which merely shared a large lounge area.

"But Hex, I would not be at all happy to be separated from you," she'd insisted. "I trust you. Sadly, I don't really trust your bureaucrats."

I grimaced. "I'm sorry, but I know what you mean. Anyhow, I'm here for you. You ... we ... have a press conference tomorrow morning. Then in the afternoon, your introduction to the representatives of the United Planets. A lot of diplomatic hoo-ha and at some point there will be committees which will need your testimony. It could take weeks."

"And all the time, you'll be stuck with me."

I smiled. "I wouldn't put it like that."

Her smooth face was not as expressive as a human one, but I thought I could read her scepticism there. "Well," she said, "there's no need for me to continue to function until tomorrow morning. Let's go and ruffle the sheets in my room and you can shut me down ... then if you lock the door, a knock and a call 'Andromeda', will wake me up."

That's what we did and I went back to the other room. I stood in the middle of it for some time before undressing, showering and getting ready for bed myself. I lay there, wide awake, and groaned. "Oh, Romy."

"Yes, Hex?"

Oh, great. Now I'm hallucinating.

A warm, naked, female body slipped into bed behind me.

Well, if this is a hallucination, it's a very solid one.

"You didn't think I'd let you be lonely, did you?"

I hesitated.

"You did?"

"I thought we'd agreed we had to present a ... polite façade to the world?"

"Yes, but it was easy enough to separate two personae. Shut up, Hex, and make love to me."

So I did. Happily. In the morning, after a joint shower ... for fun, not because she needed one ... she de-materialised. I hated to let her go, but took comfort that she was, in fact, with me in the little unit strapped to my waist.

I knocked on the door of the other room and called, "Andromeda!" The other avatar appeared, wearing an almost imperceptible satisfied expression.

The press-conference was almost vanilla. Andromeda was pressed on the issue of the native ecology of her planet.

"The culture which created me," she said, "effectively made our ecology moribund. I made the decision to try to find a species to colonise my planet rather than have it degenerate into a desert. We will initially restrict the colonisation to the larger of the two continents and involve none of the islands. There will be no need to interfere with the seas. Yes, there are risks, but they are risks I am willing ... that I wish ... to take. I..." she paused, and looked down. It might have been theatrical. It may well have been seen as theatrical ... but I was sure it wasn't. She went on, "I was alone, and lonely. That is no longer true."

If the questions about the ecology were challenging, the next question was intrusive.

"What is your relationship to the Governor ... to Captain Finch?"

"We are colleagues, and we are friends."

"Very good friends?"

Andromeda stared at the questioner for several seconds until she (the questioner) dropped her eyes. "In my culture, such a question would be seen as an unforgivable invasion of privacy. You would be excluded from my circle and as word got round, you would find yourself unacceptable in society. However, I understand that such is not the case here, so I will, just once, answer it. I like, trust and respect Captain Finch. However, I am not capable of having an intimate relationship with him or any other human. Not that it is any of your business, but I lack the ... equipment to do so."

That, effectively, ended the press-conference, not that the journalists recognised the fact and they kept niggling on for a further twenty minutes. Having seen what they could do to others in the spotlight, I was not happy, but there wasn't much I could do about it except murmur in her ear, "Andromeda, I don't think there's anything more constructive that is going to be asked, or that you want to answer. Shall I call a halt?"

"Yes, please," she answered with a smile, and stepped back.

"Ladies ... gentlemen..." I addressed the representatives of the mass media, "Andromeda has nothing further to add today. If you will excuse us, we need to prepare for her appearance before the UP Federation Council." I stepped back and offered my arm in as courtly a manner as I could manage. She took it and I escorted her out of the room.

To be truthful, Andromeda didn't need any time to 'prepare' for her appearance, which even if she did become ruffled, could be amended in moments by the circuits in her projector. The same could not be said of me. A shower to rinse away the sour sweat of my anxiety about the press conference and cool me down, a change of dress from my normal uniform to my full-dress one ... you'd think a modern uniform could be lighter and more comfortable than something from the eighteenth century. The braid alone seemed to weigh a tonne.

Although we were only a few blocks from the UP building, it was apparently necessary for us to go by ground-car – large, black, with tinted, reflective windows. To go with the limo, archaic, two-wheeled outriders ahead and behind. Wheels, on a modern vehicle...

Having become accustomed to travelling at speed, at ground level on Andromeda, at least I wasn't bothered by that. In fact, it seemed we were crawling along at little more than walking speed. But we arrived, nonetheless, and a gaudily uniformed functionary opened the door for Andromeda, who stepped out and greeted the welcoming committee. One of them offered her an arm, but she looked round for me and took mine. That might not have been the most diplomatic move in the universe.

She was introduced to the assembly and stepped to the podium; cool, self-possessed and confident.

"Good afternoon," she said, then repeated the words or their equivalent in fifty different languages and dialects. It was easy to sense the warming of the delegates just from that.

"I hope you will forgive me for continuing in English. I am sure you don't want to be here for several days. I would be happy in the future to communicate with anyone, one-on-one, in their native language." That caused a stir – the implication that she was fully fluent in fifty or more languages, none of which were native to her. I hadn't given a thought to her potential abilities in that area, but I can't say I was surprised once I thought about it.

She spoke for perhaps half an hour, outlining her hopes for a mutually satisfactory co-operation between her and Earth, ending with words about the environment.

"I understand there are concerns about preserving the native ecology of my planet. While I do not wish to destroy for the sake of destruction, and intend to preserve as much as possible, I do see that as secondary to my main aim of restoring a viable society on my planet. I hope we can reach an agreement quite soon, but my remit is to return with an agreement if at all possible, rather than to rush into one without proper consultation. I can say with confidence that I do in fact have the authority to negotiate without reference home. I thank you for your attention and am happy to respond to any general questions that we have time for."