She followed Shanelle anyway. Curiosity was human nature, as well as walking eyes-open into traps because of it. So what would they tell her when she still had her scars afterward? That the machine was currently malfunctioning, or that the scars were too old to be erased?

There was a row of them in the pristine white room called Medical, but no technicians around to operate them. They were longer than the massager, wider, deeper, and really did resemble oversized coffins. Brittany almost balked at getting into one of them. This was ridiculous. The thing couldn't do what they said it could. Yet this was her idea; she couldn't back down from it now. Well, she could, but she preferred to not give a cowardly impression if she could help it.

The lid on the closest one opened automatically as soon as she got near it. The unit was low to the floor, the bottom about the height of a couch, easy to sit down and stretch out in. It was padded on all sides, and not as deep as its size seemed to indicate. Considering that there wasn't much depth to the lid either, they would probably only accommodate lean people, which was pretty silly when you considered people came in all sizes and shapes.

"What happens when people with a weight problem need to use one of these?" she asked as she cautiously laid down on the one that had opened for her.

"I mentioned they aren't designed to deal with pregnancies, didn't I?"

"I mean just your average person who likes to eat too much."

"Ohhh, well, I suppose they would need to lose some weight first."

"And die in the meantime?''

Shanelle smiled. "The world that created these is a world that no longer uses its animal resources, the few it has left anyway, for food purposes. They subsist on food that has the texture, taste, and look of the real stuff, but it's not real, and it's virtually impossible to become overweight on such a regulated, nutritious diet."

"But you also said these get sold to other worlds-have they all conquered obesity?"

"No, indeed, but can you imagine a better incentive to keep your body healthy? I'm sorry, that was a rather tasteless bit of humor; Actually, most of the higher advanced worlds have 'conquered,' as you put it, such health problems, if not through government, regulation then with simple intelligence and an appreciation of a healthy environment. Then, too, you have militaristic worlds that I keep fit for other than health reasons. Either way, once a world, has been discovered, they can opt to advance their way of life, or…" continue to progress normally. The League of Confederated Planets, has a strict policy of noninterference if a planet opts for he latter.

"But why would anyone refuse such-miracles-if they were offered?"

"For any number of reasons, including ingrained culture, ignorance, natural distrust of off-worlders-" Laughter circled, echoed: about the room from the many wall monitors, causing Shanelle to make a face before adding, "Okay, and warrior stubbornness."

"I think she was being amused by my distrust," Brittany said, making a face of her own.

Shanelle just grinned. "Don't kid yourself, kiddo. The Sha-Ka'ani have other worlds beat hands down when it comes to not liking off-worlders and off-world inventions."

Shanelle stepped back then, and the lid closed on Brittany. Panic flared, but didn't last long. Once again she was completely encased in one of their machines, but this one was simply like a soft heat that moved around her, passing over all her limbs, a tingle here and there, and then the lid popped open again.

Brittany frowned as she sat back up. No more than a few seconds had passed, barely enough time to hear the low hum on the machine as it came to life and to feel that gentle heat surrounding her. Just as she'd figured. They were going to claim the thing had malfunctioned.

She beat them to it. "Not working, huh?"

Shanelle frowned at her. "Why? You still have some scars left?"

Expecting excuses, Brittany hadn't even thought to look down for proof. She glanced at her left hand, the one that had suffered the most injuries during the years she'd been learning her craft. She looked at both sides of it. Then she brought it up in front of her face for closer examination.

Her expression must have mirrored her incredulity, because Martha, viewing the room from the wall unit across from her, complained, "Oh, sure, I offer her a walk on the moon and she's still skeptical, but one little visit to a meditech and she enters 'have to believe it' mode."

Brittany snapped her jaw shut and gritted her teeth. "It's hypnosis, isn't it? The scars are still there, you've just convinced my mind not to see them."

"Hey, I'm impressed," Shanelle said with a chuckle. "That's a really good logical deduction if you're determined to doubt. But let's hope we don't need the meditech to prove any more points. Shall we adjourn to the Rec Room now? Dalden's probably done with Jorran by now and wondering why you're not where he left you."

Brittany had forgotten all about Jorran. "That egomaniac is behind lock and key, I hope?"

"Better than that, he's in a containing cell. It doesn't have doors, windows, or any other means to get out of it without Transfer. A very luxurious suite, actually, which in my opinion he doesn't deserve. But we don't mistreat prisoners, we just make sure those needing isolation get it. Though Martha has been Transferring his people aboard-they've all elected to travel with Jorran, rather than return home on their ship-they aren't going to be allowed to speak with him during the journey and are being delivered to an unused portion of the ship where they'll be kept happy but out of the way. Putting him with them would just be asking for trouble. How's the collection going anyway, Martha?"

"Two rods left unaccounted for," Martha replied. "But two of Jorran's people haven't checked in yet to know he's been captured. Current estimate is another three hours before we can depart."

"The captain of Jorran's ship is being very cooperative," Shanelle explained as they headed out of Medical. "Once he got a look at the battleship hovering over him, he gave the exact coordinates for the remaining Centurians on his ship, wanting them all off it immediately, and he's making every effort to find the remaining two still down on the planet."

"Then he's not a Centurian himself?"

"No, it's just a simple trader with a full crew that Jorran hired to transport him to his new 'kingdom.'

They had arrived at the Rec Room. It was a really big room, designed to entertain the ship's crew in their off-duty hours. This ship had Martha, rather than a crew, but the Rec Room was filled with men anyway-nearly fifty of them, and all huge like Dalden.

"You aren't going into shock again, are you?" Shanelle asked with concern. "Weren't you told that there were other Sha-Ka'ani here?"

"I don't recall."

"These are my father's warriors, sent along to protect my mother on her trip to Kystran. We were on our way home from that planet when we got the distress call from Sunder. Mother insisted the warriors accompany us, and went home alone." Shanelle's voice rose to reach Martha amid the noise in the room, even though there was a wall monitor right behind them. "Assure me again, Martha, that the Probables say she didn't get punished for that? "

"Stop fretting, doll," Martha replied. "You know your father is more understanding than that."

"Except when it comes to the protection of his lifemate," Shanelle said in rising agitation.

"Punished?" Brittany choked out.

"You don't want to know," Shanelle replied before she stomped off, really upset now.

"Martha?" Brittany demanded, her own upset getting out of hand.

But Martha just purred, "She was right, you don't want to know. Besides, Shanelle typically overreacts whenever she thinks her mother has earned her father's displeasure. In this case she's dead wrong, but there'll be no convincing her of that till she gets home and sees for herself." And then Martha added, "But why get into the oddities and peculiarities of a people you don't believe exist?"