Daphne jumped up from the pilot's seat as she heard the frantic banging on the shuttle's airlock. As soon as she opened it, a flustered Rachel tossed the blocky object of their larceny into her hands. "Keep that here. Dex and Saul got pinched tryin' to get outta harm's way. I gotta go back in and fetch 'em before the Feds get here. Stay here; I want you ready to fly us outta here when Artemis comes back. Wish me luck."

The captain slammed the door shut behind her, and Daphne stood in the middle of the shuttle, the priceless artifact hanging from her fingers. She blinked. "Uh…good luck."

Dex ran his hands carefully over the edges of the device's surface, muttering to himself. The panels were well-assembled, but there were a few spaces where he could feel the tickle of static from the circuitry inside. A brilliant smile lit his face as he flipped open the control panel, mentally calculating the number of possible AI routing algorithms. He reached out, longing to press just one button, and Saul scowled. "The hell you doin'?"

The mechanic suddenly cleared his throat. "Sorry." He turned around in the cramped quarters. "But, I mean, this thing's a marvel o' modern technological frivolity. You have any idea the kind of cross-typing you need to work out—"

"Ai ya!" The former bounty hunter bound to his feet, a dangerous look filling his eyes. "We're locked…in a broom closet…about to get turned over to the Feds…and you're havin' an affair with the Gorram vacuum cleaner!"

Dex looked at Saul as if the cook had just stabbed him. "Saul, it ain't a vacuum cleaner. It's a full-fledged DML-21-type household assistant. This thing could clean the entire manor unsupervised, the algorithmic detection's sharp enough for it to pick up the—"

"Can…it get us…out of this room?"

"No." Saul raised his eyebrows, and the redheaded mechanic sighed and resigned himself to leaning back against the trash-can-sized robot's side. "Hey, I ain't the one got us into this."

"Oh, I beg to differ. Your little doodad didn't blow up, we wouldn't'v