Star quest

and the thin finger touched his arm. "I feed him after we are done. It is always like this."
    Tohm looked about at the others, then back to Mayna. "I le can't feed himself?"
    Her eyes suddenly sparked with a bright light that glittered behind the green little globes. "No, he cannot feed himself! Yes, he is next to helpless! So what is that to you?"
    He sat, mouth open. "Well, I didn't mean—"
    "Of course you didn't," Corgi said quickly. "You don't understand many things. Mayna gets carried away at times." He gave her a stem look.
    She was no longer breathing heavily. "I'm sorry," she said, looking directly at him. "I didn't mean it. Corgi is right. The pressure."
    They ate in continued uneasiness, although everyone had made an apology. Tohm wanted nothing more than to get through the entire experience without offending anyone. If Triggy Gop had only had material that would have given a stupid man the basics…
    The food was, though more refined than that on Haza-bob's ship, every bit as good as any he had ever eaten. There were thin, delicious sprouts of some green vegetable done in butter sauce and sprinkled with tiny black nuts. Three different varieties of fruit salads dotted the table. The main course was a noodle casserole in some delightful custardy sauce with miniature onions.
    "We don't eat meat," Corgi said from across the dish-littered table. "Too many of us are semi-animals in appearance. Somehow, it would be like eating a brother. We stick to fruits, nuts, vegetables. Mayna can do some marvelous things with them."
    "Mayna cooks too?" Tohm asked, looking at her with new admiration.
    "Oh, yes. And Mayna is an expert with the hand laser too. Best marksman—rather, markswoman, we have."
    She smiled at Tohm and nibbled daintily on a snaky green bean.
    "Perhaps you would be interested in knowing what each of us does here," Corgi said, warming to his subject. "Babe, as useless as he seems, is the best man on explosives in this arm of the galaxy. Often, we have to rescue Muties from Romaghin clutches. Babe can make a bomb out of ice and water."
    "Not quite," Babe said through a mouthful of casserole.
    "Just about," Corgi continued. "There are times, Tohm, when we would not have succeeded in springing our soulbrothers had it not been for Babe. The Romaghins and Setessins will fight fiercely to hold them for torture and execution. Technically, since they created us, they should be supporting us or at least be letting us have jobs and citizenship. Instead, they kill us on sight. It is an old trait in men. I think it is an attempt to salve their consciences for the wrong acts that caused us. If they pretend we are evil, attribute to us a relationship with the devil or with the enemy, killing us makes sense. And when they have murdered all of us, they will no longer have to face the mistake they made."
    "That Black Beast, the superego," Babe said.
    "Then Fish," Corgi continued, "comes in exceedingly handy. He can get by on land using his lungs or in the sea by closing them up and working through his second respiratory system. You noticed the gills. When a passing ship is taking Muties to the docks to be unloaded and penned for execution, he can swim out, board it, and usually complete his mission with great success."
    Fish didn't bother to look up. He was, Tohm could see, the loner of the group.
    "Hunk is invaluable, because he is slightly telepathic."
    "An Esper?"
    "Yes. The Romaghins tell you there are no such things. But he is a living contradiction."
    Hunk lifted a tuft of lettuce and munched on it.
    "Hunk tells us when he senses any Muties in distress. When an individual, especially a Mutie, is under pressure, in pain, or just plain scared, he radiates a stronger thought pattern. Hunk can then pick it up. We go into action on his advice. Not every hutch, which is what we call this place, is lucky enough to have a telepath."
    "Hunk tells you when a ship with Muties is approaching."
    "Exactly," Corgi said, taking a sip of his wine, an amber fluid that sparkled like prisms, refracting the light as if it were a gem and not a liquid. "And I have a multiplex brain."
    "A what?"
    Mayna nibbled away at another bean.
    "A multiplex brain. I see what is happening now and can plot the possible futures for it in an instant."
    "You see the future?"
    "No, no. Nothing so wonderful and horrible as that. I see the possibilities. There are thousands, millions, countless possible futures. I scan them at any moment of crisis. If