Ishikawa’s pod bumped against something metallic. He heard chains, then a knock on the hatch. Anybody who wasn’t using a can-opener must mean well; so he pushed it open, stretching and breathing the best air Juno had to offer. He looked around.

His pod had been chained to the deck of an ocean-going vessel. The gale had abated, and Juno’s primary filled the sky like a malevolent rainbow. Several other pods were on the deck. Their occupants emerged, blinking and stretching.

On the vessel’s bridge, he could see Reckall showing the commander the pods still at sea, pointing at up to four of them at a time. The gesture didn’t surprise the commander; she had four arms too. Her complicated yet minimal bikini made it clear that her arms were all real, as were other supernumerary attributes that proclaimed her gender. A few other crewmembers moved about; they were of the same design, uniform and sexual persuasion as their commander.

She slipped her two starboard arms possessively around Reckall.