The shuttle vibrated slightly as it was pulled from the dash.

It had been a short trip. Y had expected it to be longer - a few hours, at least.

But no, it had been quick - they were not even far from the station that had re-routed his dash.

Interesting.

He took in the data of all the shuttle's system, building himself a picture of what lay around them.

It was empty space, the vacuum about as immaterial as within any system. The cosmic wind of the star, about five AU from him, was relatively weak. It was only a mid-brightness red dwarf, and at this distance they were near the frost line.

There was a single object; a ship.

It was a round leisure craft, meant for short jaunts in space from a home port, not typically found floating in an empty system.

Clearly, it was his destination.

A tight-beam signal came in, giving him navigational data to dock.

He put the ship on the course, waiting for anything else; a greeting or to hear from the man that Captain Brooks had been in contact with. But nothing came in.

He docked with the ship, and switched his consciousness from the shuttle itself to his ambulatory body.

The airlock opened for him, and he stepped through.

The majority of the ship's volume, he could see, was taken up by a single large chamber.

It was circular, both floor and ceiling curving slightly upward to create the effect of drawing attention to the center.

He scanned all areas equally, but the effect would have been, to biological senses, very effective and striking.

The space was used well, too. There was no gravity or even the possibility of spin gravity on a ship so small, but every attempt was made to visually hide that; the deck was covered in a surface of very naturalistic soil, trees that had been grown in gravity had been transplanted into the substrate, with large rocks being in strategic places to create the illusion of a natural surface. Under crystal glass, so clear that a human eye might miss its presence, water flowed, creating a pleasant, trickling stream.

In the center, an old stone table - and it was indeed an old table made of planetary stone, his sensors told him - was situated, along with two stone seats. Quite ostentatious, when every gram mattered for a ship that wasn't cratonic.

At the table, a being was sitting.

She had the form of a human, but she was not biological in any sense that he could see. She possessed three arms on each side, and her skin was a gold alloy, textured like human skin - so convincing it almost looked like it was living. Her eyes were a sapphire blue, and long pseudo-hair made of flexible silver wires hung down her back. She wore a white gown; simply adorned but made from a rich fabric that refracted the light so that it almost seemed to glow.

She was watching him, all six of her hands folded in her lap, waiting.

He approached the stone table, and she spoke.

"Greetings, Doctor. I trust you had no difficulty finding your way here?"

"Of course not, Madam Dawn, your directions were perfect," Y replied.

"Madam? Oh my, do I appear so old? I thought I looked ageless in this form."

"Consider it merely a token of great respect," Y said, judging her image and coming to a conclusion;

She was not actually here.

What he was seeing was one of the best projections he had ever seen. It had been crafted to fool, at first glance, even the best sensors. Perhaps even tailored specifically to the sensors possessed by his bodies.

It bespoke great effort on her part to create a plausible facsimile, but also told him that she knew, in very great detail, the specifics of this body's build. The only clue that broke the facade was a tiny flicker, so fast that a human eye would not have perceived it.

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He did not expect that she believed this would fool him for long. But it was a testament of her knowledge and skill that she could fool him even for a moment.

Quite interesting.

The details of his mechanical bodies were not exactly top secret, but were also not publicly available, and under some level of security, for obvious reasons.

"Please, have a seat," she told him, gesturing with one hand.

He did so. It was only a formality, but it seemed they would be playing that game.

"Might I offer you a sensory cup?" she asked.

"I would accept that offer," Y replied.

Moving with grace, she took a small, cup-like object from the table, activating it with a touch of a finger, and presenting it to him.

Y accepted it, pressing a finger into the cup.

At the end was an interface, which he could interact with.

There was nothing else but data; the sensory data of physical sensation, of smell, sound, everything that was needed to complete the tranquil scene around them.

Birds sang in trees, the wind blew, which his surface sensors could feel as if it was real.

It was, he thought, a pleasant scenario.

"Why are we in this location?" he asked. "Not that I am complaining, mind you - I just feel there must be a reason."

Dawn smiled. "It is, I am sorry to say, not a real place. It is only a place I have seen in my imagination."

She looked around. "It was once a favorite past-time of mine to create such scenes. While many work with memories, I always felt it was more enjoyable to try and create something that was believable but was not based on anything in particular."

"That must require a great amount of research," Y noted. "The plants and animals present are all native to Sakha. It is difficult for me to find any flaws. I believe that this could be a real location."

"You are too kind," she replied. "But you have not come all this way just to discuss my holographic creations."

"No," he admitted. "I have come to settle a debt, as you know. Since you are not physically here, I trust you do not need medical attention. So the question is; what else is it that you may require of me?"

Dawn seemed unperturbed, and dipped her finger into her own sensory cup.

"I wish only for your company, Doctor. The sun is setting, and you will stay until the moon reaches its peak height in the sky."

So she would not come out and say it. Y pondered her last proposition, and noted that the sun was sinking at a speed faster than Earth normal for the region they supposedly were in. So it would only be a few hours.

"Very well," he said. "I shall do that, and then the debt will be settled."

"I was quite sorry to hear about Dr. Logus," Dawn said. "Though I understand he is healing well."

It was a sudden change, and Y tried to calculate angles that this approach could indicate.

He discarded the idea that she was threatening Logus; there was no advantage in it, as far as he could see. She already had him here.

"Yes, he is attended to by excellent doctors," Y replied.

"I imagine it was very difficult for you," Dawn said.

The wind seemed to blow harder, enough to whip her clothes and pseudo-hair.

"Yes," he admitted. "But he will live. The trauma will leave scars - while we can heal the physical ones, the mental ones will be longer-lasting. Arn Logus is capable of dealing with them, however."

"Given his reputation, I would expect no less. I am sure you will do all you can to help him. Your own talents are quite impressive."

Y nodded, but said nothing.

"May I ask - what caused you to desire to become a doctor? It seems a curious choice."

"I admire biological life," he told her. "It is an interesting phenomenon. I feel honored to be able to alleviate the suffering of people when I can. And I am capable of doing a great amount of good in this way."

"Doing good," she commented, her head tilting. "I am surprised to hear you turn it to a simple moral stance."

"I would chalk it up perhaps to a shortcoming of verbal language. Truly, there are more efficient ways to communicate. Would you prefer a pure data uplink?"

"No, words will suffice," she replied, smiling slightly. "In a way, its deficiencies are intriguing. We must simply do our best with these tools."

And, Y thought, she likely feared that a direct uplink would give him too much power. Even if she was fully transhuman now, he was born a machine; it was his natural state.

He had met fully digitalized humans before, and while they did in many ways transcend their biological limitations, their minds were still structured like their origins. Without completely changing themselves, they would always hold those elements, and so not take full advantage of their new state of being.

A motion to his side caught his attention; focusing his sensors, he saw a small animal, a mouse. It had a seed pod in its mouth, it was trying to pull it along into the underbrush.

It did not even notice him, and for a moment his attention was captivated; was it simply not programmed to interact with him? Or was it so well programmed that it had not noticed his presence from his stillness?

A part of him wanted to reach down and see if it reacted. But he did not want to break the spell.

"I see you find some of the details of my program most interesting," Dawn said.

"Indeed," he replied. "I am impressed. And you say that this is all your own creation?"

She smiled. "I am under no obligation to answer your questions, Doctor. I owe you no debt."

"That is true," he admitted.

The sun above was covered by a cloud and shadows fell over the land. Every shadow was perfect, he noted, checking for mistakes in it, shortcuts that sensory world creators often used to save time or effort. He found none.

"I understand you spent much time with Romon Xatier before his death," Dawn said.

"Yes," he replied. He did not elaborate.

"It seems he developed a powerful interest in you," she continued.

"You could say that. It was not a mutual interest," he replied.

"Oh? Yet you went to his property on Gohhi."

Ah, so that was how she had known, he thought. Her spies had seen him and they likely kept tabs on Xatier most of the time.

"I did. I had some unfinished business," Y continued.

"You and Apollonia Nor were both present when he died, though." It was not a question.

"Yes," he said.

She tilted her head again, smiling. "You sometimes become short of words, Doctor."

"I suppose that occurs to everyone at some times," he replied, forcing affability.