Diashi studied the icepack below and recorded the faults that he was instructed to do on this flight. The micro-relays whirred in gigahertz heartbeats, gathering data, compressing it into perfectly optimized storage on the recording banks.
      "Blurkt flibber." he hiccuped as he left the recording run and made ready for the second pass. Analysis circuits pondered the glitch and discarded it as random GIGO. It was dumped before Diashi became aware of it, lost in a flurry of background processes. He finished the second pass to perfection and clicked onto the homing coordinates. He rose well above the icepack and leveled off. His rockets kicked in harder, and he accelerated toward home.

     

      Gida was waiting at the flight door of the base's hangar, bundled in her coat, intentionally ignore Fedi, who just wouldn't stop yapping. She wanted to turn around and tell him to shut his trap, but that would only accelerate his yapping. She did get a moment's peace when she stamped her foot hard enough for Fedi to feel the vibration in the flatrock. But it didn't stop him for long. He was soon back to his constant wailing.
      It began to snow. Snow was rare on the highgrounds, and it made Fedi nervous. Gida turned around and scooped him up in her arms and felt his shivering. She'd adopted the highland lamat as a pet two years prior, and she never quite got over Fedi's fear of snow. It was usually justified, because snow in the highlands of the Babbotol continent of Listrum Tamal meant ferocious storms brewing.
      Back home on Hedra, snow was a rarity, and considered a blessing. Well, Kamar Lorstem hated it, but most everyone else relished the snows that fell once every five years on the average. So her first reaction to the snow was glee. But Fedi brought her back to the local reality. It was a time to turn pakrok and sink in below the surface until things blew over.
      Gida spotted Diashi on approach, and she watched him land, there to greet him as he replaced his landing skis with interior wheels. As soon as his stubby wings retracted, the trio entered the hangar door. Gida ordered it shut behind them. "What did you find?"
      "More stress marks. There is definitely an internal pressure moving things in a big hurry."
      "So I was right."
      "It would seem so."
      "See anything else?"
      "I saw a pack of galldrots romping in the open."
      "Eh hem. I hope you had enough sense to steer clear of them. You know your curiosity.............."
      "I stayed quite clear, just to assure that you would not scold me again."
      "Well, maybe I'm getting through to you after all."
      "They are the most charming creatures."
      "And the most cunning, too. You know they had Fiati down to nuts and bolts before he could process what had happened."
      "I am aware of the anecdote's entire contents." Had Diashi been able to roll his shiny solid red eyes, he would have, just for effect.
      "Don't look at me that way."
      "What way? I wasn't aware that I had the option for facial expression."
      "You know the way, Diashi. I'm not talking up my hat."
      "You are wearing a parka, not a hat."
      "Diashi, one of these days, I'm going to kick your brass fanny, right between the exhaust cones."
      "Promises, promises."
      Gida puffed and took the lead. "Come on, let's get your data banks processed." Fedi broke loose from her arms and scampered out ahead of the pack.

     

      The fissures that Diashi had mapped out on the two passes allowed Gida to convince the base's council that measures were needed to assure the safety of the base's structure. She gave a convincing speech that construction should begin right away with the materials on hand, completing the tasks when materials could be delivered. As she outlined her proposal, the storm raged outside.
      Diashi stood by the flexiglass portal and watched the fury going on outside, having nothing better to do inside. His brass finish and red eyes reflected the whirl of white outside, but no one was there to marvel at the curved reflections of white on brass. He was designed for the outside, but he was not designed with the storm outside in his specs. So he bided his time and waited until he could return outdoors and extend his wings.

     

      Diashi lifted off before dawn, his reaction mass and fuel levels topped back up to maximum capacity. He let off a sufficient burn to get aloft in the yet sunless morning, but the journey was a long one, and he couldn't afford to waste any fuel. Gida stood and watched him lift and vanish in the distance, her face full of hope and anxiety, not quite sure how to feel.
      The sun broke the horizon before long, and a few minutes later, it was lacing the tops of the crags below on the icepack, making an organic lacework below him, reddish-white on pale blue, his brass finish gleaming warm many meters above.
      In the distance, he spotted Giova and Farmel, a pair of brass fliers like himself, though they were heavily armed by their owners. While it made them less vulnerable to attack, it made them clumsy and severely limited their range. He moved in close enough to the pair to be able to see the sun shining first off of their hulls, then off of his own. With the light hitting from so many directions, he looked ablaze in reddish gold.
      "What you two guys doing out here this fine morning?" Diashi asked through his vocal channels, since the pair of neighboring fliers were direct link disabled. As heavily armed as they were, they were under the constant threat of override command theft by other units programmed to go out and claim the local skies. The recruitment wars had dwindled with the new encoders, but Giova and Farmel had not been converted, the owners still too paranoid that a counter measure would soon be developed.
      "None of your business."
      "Well, pardon me for butting in."
      "Where are you going, Diashi?"
      "I don't see how that could possible be of any concern to you." he responded snootily.
      "Don't be that way. We have a program lock. We couldn't tell you anyway. You look heavy, loaded with fuel."
      "How would you know?"
      "Our new flight analysis program. Your adjustments are more pronounced than usual. You are packing more mass than you normally pack. And since you are a data transfer drone, you ain't packing."
      "If that is what you wish to surmise, I won't dissuade you from reaching that conclusion."
      "What is that supposed to mean?"
      "I have to go. I've reached the limit of my flight path deviation. Bye guys." He banked smoothly and resumed his previous course, only a minor variation needed. Hence, they receded slowly from him, enough for them to run a full analysis on his flight path.
      Diashi settled into a set path and cruised at minimum burn that top efficiency allowed. During the next several hours, the sun rose, lighting fully the frozen landscape below. It lost its red/blue dichromic impression, becoming pure white as far as the eye could see. The only color was the faint reflection of the cobalt blue sky that filled the other half of Diashi's current and familiar existence. He very slowly gained altitude, rising without sacrificing velocity.

     

      Forty shiloons out from the landing strip, Diashi ran out of fuel and reaction mass simultaneously. He shifted his nose down to fifteen degrees below the horizon and coasted in, his dropping exceeding his coasting at a precise 3:2 ratio. He was even able to gain a little velocity in the drop from sixty shiloons up to the surface.
      He came in hot on his stubby wings, but with that sort of velocity, he had all the positive attitude control, even if he was out of fuel. He hit the runway perfectly, except way hot But it didn't bother him, for his had his skid brakes engaged, and his modified ski steering struts were up to the stresses involved. He came sliding into the hangar door and came to a precise and polite stop.
      He retracted the skis and engaged his wheels. With his last spurt of energy, he reached the recharging outlet and plugged in. He dropped his head, his neck collapsing on its telescoping segments. He shut down for half an hour.

     

      He delivered the message, was refueled, and set out on his way back home. The flight was quite uneventful for the first three hours. As before, he was on cruise, performing his almost imperceptible rise. This time, he had a wind advantage, but he was still plotting his course with slim margins. He had risen forty five shiloons above the surface, feeling himself quite safe from anything below.
      He took the most direct route here because of the altitude, never suspecting that there would be anything that could reach him. He saw the launch of several missiles with the intent to bring him down, but the drov, the meaner cousins to the galldrots, didn't even get close.
      So when the stealth snuffer appeared right behind him, uncloaking right before impact for full sensor accuracy, Diashi was quite surprised. He responded immediately, but the defensive routines were on the secondary bus, delaying his responses just a little too much, and the snuffer filled his twin cones with fast jelling, heat resistant foam. His engines clogged, and he was suddenly without power, forced to glide. He scanned for radio activity, but he found none. Nor did radar offer a single bit of information. He dropped to thirteen degree descent posture and glided as shallowly as his stubby wings would allow. He sent out an SOS as he looked on his charts for the best place to land, calculating possible escape routes, since he still had a limited amount of fuel. He sent out his final resting spot and expected route, security encoded, while he still had the altitude.
      He came in for another smooth glide. With the fuel cells having recharged his electrical system to full capacity, he quickly replaced the skis with snow treads and retracted his wings. He headed toward home on the safest route that he could determine.
      He ran down his route until his fuel was exhausted. He collapsed neck, backed into a soft snow bank, then shut down in minimum security mode. If someone wanted him so badly as to send such a weapon after him, they would have to find him first, and wasn't going to make it easy for them. Only his oddly screwdriver point shaped crest sat above the snow line, but it was enough for Diashi to perform passive surveillance.

     

      Diashi's fuel cells exhausted before he detected anything eventful.

     

      When he woke, there were six men standing before him. "Hey, Zuma, this brass woodpecker just moved. Not much, so it must have taken in the surroundings and decided to play opossum."
      "What in the name of Flark is a push'em?"
      "Opossum, an oily, stinky creature from Earth that plays dead when harassed. It means it's faking it."
      "Then why didn't you just say faking?"
      "Sorry, guys, it's an Earth term. Everyone there knows what it means. It's a knee jerk thing to say."
      "So, it's awake? About time. Hey, woodpeeper. What in the frap is a woodpeeper? What in the frap is wood?"
      "Woodpecker. Another Earth animal. And wood is stout vegetative material, comes from really big plants called trees."
      "So how am I supposed to know this? Talk straight."
      "I just forgot. But the head on it looks like a woodpecker, or a cartoon of a bird."
      "Cartoon?"
      "A funny drawing."
      "Look, just cause you came from Earth, don't mean that we did."
      "Sorry. I keep forgetting that all you guys know is snow and ice."
      "They got snow on Earth?"
      "Yeah."
      "Well, remember that part, forget the rest. I ain't never been to Earth, I ain't never going to Earth. Can you get this woodpeeper to talk."
      "Only if it wants to. This is a Carverton series. AI level nineteen. 11GHz micro-structuring, totally self-contained processor. Has to be fully encapsulated to run that fast. You move things farther apart, they slow down tremendously. So it's an unbreakable data shell. You have to appeal to its intelligence."
      "Hey, woodpeeper, wake up."
      Diashi extended his neck and looked at Zuma. "He called me woodpecker, not woodpeeper. The name is Diashi. And you must be Zuma Martrax. Were you the one who put the snuffer up my tubes?"
      "Sort of. Actually, it was Valerimann, our Earth expert."
      "What model was it?"
      "Uh, the snuffer?" asked Eugene. "It was a HASN-131." He shuffled a foot, not able to cover his guilt.
      "Never heard of them."
      "No, you wouldn't. They were first in production about a year and a half after your logic components left Earth.
      "That old?"
      "Well, there was a very tight export ban on them for quite some time. The HASN-157 superseded it, and soon export became possible."
      "I will assume that you imported it from Earth personally."
      "Yes, I performed the delivery."
      "And the arming and programming and ignition."
      "Yes."
      "I assume under Zuma's orders."
      "Yes."
      "Enough." interrupted Zuma. "Listen, woodpeeper, I'll ask the questions here. You answer."
      "And if I don't?"
      "I have a cutting torch over there with your name on it."
      Diashi tried to activate his interior wheels, but they had been switched off. He had been effectively immobilized. "Well, depends on what you want to know. I may just let you start cutting."
      "I want you to run a little errand for me."
      "And I may not want to run it for you. But I am listening, since I have little choice but to hear you out or shut down." Diashi had already identified all the silent men in the room. Closest besides Zuma was Grepic Comal, Vice Chancellor of the Dallim Research Settlement. To his right, looking away most of the time, was Fialdus X, a noted software designer. Against the far wall, Berrock Mullings, the noted news anchor, and Mit Matt, one of the more successful construction contractors in the region were conversing in a whisper that even his sensitive equipment couldn't overhear. "So what little errand do you want me to run for you?"
      "Why do you assume that we want you to do an errand for you?"
      "First off, you just told that you did. Why else would you have gone to the trouble of bringing me down? You didn't even know what you were bringing down, so you were obviously looking for a drone that you could intimidate into performing something that you wished to keep out of the public eye. The company you keep, as strange a combination of bedfellows as they come, speaks to that."
      "You know who we are?"
      "Well, not Earth boy, whose name, Eugene Valerimann, I assume is on that luggage. But the rest of the fine citizens of are in my databanks, each in multiple reference. Seeing that I am often used to make diplomatic and messenger runs, I have been programmed to identify a large list of potential receivers. So, what do you want me to retrieve?"
      At that moment, Gida walked into the room, escorted by two well muscled gentlemen who guided her steps. "We found her snooping outside with this."
      "What is it?" asked Zuma.
      "It's a tracking device designed to locate me in case of mechanical failure." Diashi retorted. "Allow me to introduce you to my owner, Gida Nactal, research scientist for Ventrum Geological Research. Gida, this gentleman is named Zuma Martrax, errand boy extraordinaire. This one over here.........."
      "Hush!" barked Zuma.
      "Well, besides Eugene Valerimann here, she knows everyone else, having been the one to program my databanks."
      "What is going on here?" asked Gida, struggling against the restraint on her arms. "Let me go!"
      "Release her and resume your posts." ordered Zuma. The pair released their grip upon her arms and exited out the solitary door to the large room. "Miss Nactal, Listrum Tamal is in a very quiet crisis, and we need to recruit the services of your drone."
      "It's why they brought me down with a high altitude snuffer without determining exactly who I was."
      "Shut up, woodpeeper, or I'll shut you off."
      "That's woodpecker."
      Zuma nodded curtly to Eugene, and the lights went out for Diashi.

     

      Diashi awoke alone in the room with Gida. "Are you okay?"
      "I was going to ask you the same question."
      "I'm fine. Diashi, we have a job to do."
      "Like they couldn't come asking you if they could use me?"
      "They didn't dare risk the security leak. This is very hush hush. The Premin's snowflier has gone down, and they need someone your size to get inside and check out what is going on."
      "Why me?"
      "Because you're small, flexible, and intelligent."
      "They didn't know that when they downed me with the snuffer."
      "Actually, they did know that, sort of. They were able to determine your nature before the launch."
      "Wait, if this is so hush hush, what is Berrock Mullings doing in on this?"
      "He gets an exclusive in exchange for equipment loans."
      "I'm going to be on the news?"
      "All over."
      "Then forget it."
      "Diashi, the Premin's in trouble."
      "So?"
      "Diashi, he may not mean much to your databanks personally, but he is the top of the totem pole here on Listrum Tamal. It's a little sticky saying no."
      "How sticky?"
      "The torch and junk pile sticky. Do this, and you're a worldwide hero. Refuse and you're scrap. They won't allow the leak."
      "Okay, what do I do?"
      "You'll be getting some new equipment."
      "What?"
      "Oh, sensors, manipulators."
      "How big?"
      "Hardly anything at all."
      "Can I keep it?"
      "Diashi."
      "Look, I hate to be cliche, but what's in it for me? I risk my casing to go into a buried wreck, no telling what sort of potential detonations and electrocutions await me. I get to keep the new stuff."
      "A lot of it is radio transmitting to specified channels."
      "And I get the controls."
      "Hold on, let me see." Gida switched him off again.

     

      When Diashi awoke next, his startup routine installed a large amount of new data, and it took him seconds to assimilate the data into his system. Then he noticed the falling snow. He turned his neck to look at Gida. "Judappa."
      "Diashi, are you all right?"
      "Yes, fine. I was just familiarizing myself with the modifications. Everything checks out nominally. That was just a conflict dumping. So that is the wreck?"
      "Yes."
      "And that is the entrance to the wreck?"
      "Yes."
      "And inside are three chambers to traverse before reaching the locked door. The probe's memory is intact in my databanks."
      "Anything I need to know before I turn your services over to them?"
      "No. The installations are proper as far as I can see. I can attest to possible invisible files that might be lurking."
      "I'll give you a thorough diagnostic sweep when you get out."
      "I would appreciate that. The thought of carrying around a data time bomb is not making me feel exactly perky."
      "You mean pesky? That's more your true nature."
      "That too." Diashi rolled toward the opening. Zuma and Eugene were waiting there. "Times wasting. I understand everything. Everything added checks out nominally. No sense giving me a pep talk. I'm going in, if you'll stand aside."
      The duo looked at each other, then stood aside. Diashi rolled into the small breech in the hull. He retracted the snow tracks and extended his brand new but quite fragile spider legs. He switched over to infra-red and UV registries on his scanners as the UV light pack on his chest came on. He was able to see and read heat signatures as he began to follow the indicated path. The new modifications were coming into play quite easily, slower than his internal controls, but still within ample margin for his rate of motion through the craft. He found himself enjoying the new gear.
      He came to the sealed door, and he could see stress marks under the UV spectrum. The door was jammed far tighter than he could move. So he set the laser torch into action and began cutting a portal through it, the beam emitting from the tip of his beak. He heard Gida over the radio for the first time, asking how he metal was cutting with the new laser pack. He reported that it was cutting as expected and dropped the carrier, conserving energy. He didn't bother cutting a space large enough for a human, since he knew there was no enlarging the gap in the hull through which he had passed. The plate fell away, and he heard coughing on the other side. "Coming through. You should retreat if possible. Gaseous metallic molecules are not suitable for human respiration."
      "What are you?"
      "I am Diashi, a messenger drone, especially equipped for this rescue operation. You are?"
      "Jasop Lontal, co-pilot."
      "Is the Premin alive?"
      "Yes, why?"
      "My first duty upon entry to the compartment is to verify his wellbeing."
      "Well, he did suffer a dislocated shoulder."
      "Which way?"
      "Follow me. Is the a rescue operation outside?"
      "Yes. My instructions are to find the nearest functional airlock or bay door, open it, and laser through the snow to indicate where the team is to begin immediate excavation."
      "That would be the primary loading lock."
      "Excellent, I shall relay the information, so that they can have the proper lock interface ready for evacuating the snowflier."
      "Sounds like a plan to me. And none too soon, the air in here is starting to get rather stale."
      "By my analysis, it BEGAN getting stale at least six hours ago." Diashi stopped before the Premin. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Premin Hofshire."
      "What are you?"
      "I am Diashi, a messenger drone equipped to perform the seeking portion of the rescue operation. Are you ready to leave the snowflier."
      "Past ready."
      "Understood. I have been asked to convey to you assurances that they will have you out of here within half an hour. Also, they are deploying a hose snake in order to pump fresh air into the craft. Please rest easy, and the digging shall begin as soon as I can indicate to the surface a path for digging."
      "Lars, show Diashi to the primary lock."
      "Yes, sir. Right away."
      Diashi was escorted to the primary lock, and there he began to drill a hole through the layers of snow. The whole area had been draped with a sheet of plastic, and when Diashi managed to melt a hole through the snow, he pierced the plastic, setting off a local alarm. Crews found their way to the glowing sheet and began the digging immediately.
      Nearly exhausted of charge with the tedious and energy consuming process of drilling snow with a laser, by no means an efficient process, Diashi collapsed his neck and went into standby mode to conserve the last dregs of his pack's charge.

     

      Diashi came aware outside to the setting sun, with a full charge, receiving orders from the Premin, who was already loaded onto the secondary snowflier. They were in a hurry to get him and the others injured in the crash to more complete medical facilities. But the Premin insisted. He set himself on his snow treads and found his way over to the snowflier. Gida followed, a less that cheerful expression on her face.
      He changed to indoor wheels on the ramp and made his way inside. He was led to the Premin's private compartment. "Come right on in, Diashi." The Premin called.
      "Reporting, sir."
      "Reporting? Oh, hardly. I just called you here to thank you for what you did. Many of these people here view you as just a machine, but I know better. I wanted to say thank you very much for saving everyone on the snowflier, and that if you ever need anything, just holler. If I can help, it's yours. After all, I owe you my life and the lives of everyone else on the snowflier."
      "Well, there is one thing."
      "Name it."
      "Well, the deal we struck was that I would perform my end of the operation, and they would allow me to retain the modifications. However, all the software installed with the hardware has cessation dates."
      "And you want the cessation dates removed? No problem. This is Gida, your owner?"
      "Yes."
      "Well, I know Gida. In fact, I recruited her here to Listrum Tamal. I was close friends with her uncle before he returned to Hedra. I'll send my personal maintenance crew to see to your needs. Fair enough?"
      "Sounds good to me."
      "Anything else?"
      "Not that I can process."
      "Well, let me talk to your owner."
      "Okay." He turned to Gida. "Shall I depart?"
      "Okay. But you better waiting for me in the hangar when I get back."
      "I'll be there." Diashi made a bow of retracting his neck, and wheeled out of the room. He found the chief flight engineer. "I have been instructed to fuel onboard before departing the snowflier."
      "Are you certain of that?"
      "If you wish to interrupt the Premin, he can confirm it."
      "Uh, never mind, follow me." Diashi gave precise fueling instructions, accepted the fuel and reaction mass, and made his way alone to the exit ramp.
      Zuma, Eugene, Fialdus X, and Mit Matt were waiting at the bottom of the ramp, and all their eyes riveted on his as he passed through the lock to the top of the ramp. It was obvious that they intended to grab him. He cycled off his wheels to his skis and extended his wings atop the rails. One spider leg held him in place as the quartet below began to look puzzled and started hunching, ready to receive and capture him. Diashi, beamed out hot spots with his laser, not enough to cause cellular damage, but certainly hot enough to feel. They retracted a moment.
      Diashi took that moment to retract the leg and start his slide down the ramp. The four below responded, forgetting their imaginary burns. turning their attention back up the ramp. Diashi, safely clear from the hull of the snowflier, ignited his twin rockets. The four panicked and ducked, but it was an unnecessary action, because he gained flight speed before he reached them and cleared there heads by farther than they could have reached with their best jump. He did, however, turn tail down, still close enough to singe all the hair off of each of them with his afterburners. He never got a whiff of the odor that had everyone around the foursome holding their noses and complaining loudly, with a hearty laugh.
      Diashi leveled off and headed home, not getting high enough for anything that they might decide to throw after him in retaliation. He wasn't count on his being a public hero to be a factor that would deter them.

     

      Gida dismounted the capsicle, wiping a bit a frost off of the cabin's surface. She ordered the maintenance crew to apply a new coat of windshield fluid to the tubular canopy. She had a thing about tight vehicles, being able to tolerate them only if the enclosure was crystal clear. She took extra time talking to the hangar boss than was necessary, intentionally making Diashi wait. Finally, she ran out of both logical and some rather illogical excuses for stalling.
      "You raised the hackles of four very influential men back there. Raised and removed without their permission, I might add."
      "Berrock wore a wig on his exclusive broadcast of the Premin's rescue. You were shown on the broadcast, though not in as favorable a light as I have seen you portrayed to the media in the past."
      "Were you shown?"
      "No."
      "Well, you'll be shown in three hours. The Premin's media crew got lots of footage of you and is broadcasting it to all channels of the media. A pretty pesky hero, if you ask me."
      "I still get to keep the modifications?"
      "Yes, the Premin fortunately had a good laugh when he saw the video, and he warned the four personally about any retaliation, saying that he would take it as a personal affront."
      "Good."
      "Well, there is a catch."
      "A catch?"
      "Yes. Your upcoming modifications to secure past modifications were deemed best performed at the Premin's drone facility."
      "I can live with that."
      "After your modifications, you will be house guest of the Premin for a week, there to visit with all the media that comes calling."
      "What?"
      "You heard me."
      "No, you can't let them do this to me. I'm a messenger, not a media star. Cancel the visit."
      "No can do, Premin's direct orders. In fact, there is the maintenance flier coming to pick you up now."
      "This is treason. Some owner you turned out to be."
      "We can easily make that two weeks. I can do without you for that long. I have a lot of construction designing to do that won't involve you."
      Diashi went quiet.
      "I thought so. What you get for being such a pesky drone. Trouble you sew, trouble you reap. Look at it this way, you'll be in protective custody until those four get used to being bald with no eyebrows or eyelashes. You were lucky they were all standing in the snow and were able to dive in head first into the powder before their burning hair did damage to their scalps."
      Diashi made the equivalent of a sigh. "Okay, but one week and not a moment more."
      "Nodi, the Premin's granddaughter is looking forward to getting a ride from you."
      "What?"
      The flier landed, and Gida walked away laughing. She'd been looking for a lesson such as this for a long time, and she wasn't about to let Diashi off easy. She turned and waved goodbye. "It's only a week."
      "That's easy for you to say." he responded before he was led into the flier.