1001 Starry Knights: The Seven Voyages of Sinbad, chapter 4

I groaned as I awoke. The beds on the ship were more comfortable than I had expected, but I was still sore all over. A large arm draped around my waist, a hand resting on my stomach. Renee lay nuzzling up against me from behind. As I began to move, she stirred, and let out a happy noise. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

“Really? God, that’s depressing.” I spoke, before my brain had a chance to properly engage. I didn’t consider myself any great shakes, Heaven knew.

“What?” Her voice was rather annoyed.

“Uh. I’m sorry, I was thinking about the tale of Pai Ten Shi.” I gave her a bright, cheerful smile, and tried to stand up to escape. I hadn’t disliked the night with the young woman. But I was worried she might want seconds, and no matter how good Imperial medical technology was, I knew I wouldn’t survive it. I fled the room, still clutching the sheet.

That evening, as the crew gathered, I sat at the end of the dining table, one leg crossed over the other, a hand on my chin.

“Where was I… Ah! The story of Pai Shi Ten.”

Pai Shi Ten had taken the shape of one of the Cloakers. A race that had been discovered attempting to assimilate into the Empire, and hunted down, forced into servitude, and made a part of the Empire they had hoped to parasitize. They were primarily talented at taking on humanoid shapes, although their internal skeletons made it difficult for them to adapt to the more exotic shapes of the Aberrant Kingdom. As a part of the Empire, they had little use compared to more exotic species. They did not have great mastery of telepathy, or the capacity to take on great shapes for combat or labor. They were mainly useful as spies, and assassins.

The Cloakers were, by their very nature, gregarious. Social butterflies. They enjoyed being around people, and were very good at learning how to fit in. Their culture had been a sort of benign parasitism, living among other sapient races, and imitating them, trying to fit in. They had never been a harmful race. The worst they could be accused of was a distaste for physical labor and a certain shyness about their true identities. They were friendly to a fault, and not well-disposed to killing or hurting those they lived among. This was part of the reason Pai Shi Ten had chosen this shape, for the Cloakers would never suspect someone of attempting to pretend to be one of them. They certainly never had any interest in being Cloakers.

The Vizier, in the Vampire’s body, decided to make an example of the race Pai Shi Ten had become a part of. He saw they had value, if it could only be focused. Rumors were spread out, through the Emperor’s messages and less savory methods, that the Cloakers were his eyes and ears; That the race, as a whole, were spies and snitches. Already the target of suspicion, they were soon viciously discriminated against by their fellows. Their pleas of ignorance were taken as a proof. This is when the Empire began making his offers. Special districts that were open only to the Cloakers. They fled to these sanctuaries, and found their situation had only grown worse.

The Cloaker Districts depended on the largesse of the Emperor, who offered privilege and reward in exchange for information on others. In this place, Pai Shi Ten, now known as a complicated series of consonants that boiled down to ‘Elegant Honey Blossom’, grew up. She was, all things considered, a sweet young girl. She was trusting, often to a fault, and helped others till it cut her to the bone. She fell in love with the wrong boy, and he lied about what she did, and as a result, she was chosen for the Emperor’s schools. At the age of ten by human reckoning, she was removed from the family she lived with, and sent to a world on the outskirts of the Empire.

Her trainers were Serpent Clan, and they taught her the way they were taught. Trust and kindness were punished brutally. This was the end result of the usurper Vizier’s mad plan, to hone and beat a race of friendly shapeshifters into a lethal batch of assassins. And it worked perfectly. By the time she was eighteen by human reckoning, Elegant Honey Blossom was the sole survivor of her class, and had given up hope. At about this time, another rebellion arose among the Aberrant of the Orion Spur, led by a charismatic Slime Clan warlord. He called for a toppling of the Empire, and Elegant Honey Blossom was chosen to kill him. The Slime Clan were notorious for the difficulty of killing them discreetly, but Elegant Honey Blossom was brilliant at what she did. Even with memories lost, the Emperor was a once-in-a-generation talent. She was dispatched to kill him.

Nobody is entirely certain what happened. Some say she was defeated in hand to hand combat, and was shown mercy, cracking a shell that had been built around her. Others say she fell in love, as young people are wont to do, and threw away all she knew and cared about for her foolish love, as all people are wont to do. The Slime Clan warlord did not die, and neither did Elegant Honey Blossom. Instead, they hatched a plan, to assassinate the vile emperor Pai Shi Ten, as the Vizier claimed to be.

It would be unprecedented. Few are the emperors who have met their end at an assassin’s knife, and most of them were brought down by vast conspiracies among those closest to them. For two Aberrants, little more than slaves, to accomplish it was beyond expectation. There were three things that allowed them to succeed. First, they were among the greatest of their kind. Elegant Honey Blossom had been engineered by the Empire to succeed, no matter what. The Slime Clan warlord, his name now lost, was a consummate survivor and warrior. The two of them, working together, were a formidable force.

Second, the great tree Yggdrasil did not warn the Emperor. The Spymaster, All-Seeing Root of the Empire, knew of the Emperor’s falseness, and did not appreciate the attempt to sidestep the great Spymaster. Had he moved against Elegant Honey Blossom and the Slime Clan warlord, they would never have survived.

Third, Pai Shi Ten had been a brilliant emperor. Trusting to a fault and kind, but brilliant. He ensured that his new shape’s genetics would unlock the palace. When the two entered the Imperial Palace, no alarm betrayed them, and they blended in with the shadows. The great body of Pai Shi Ten was powerful, but the Vizier lacked skill, talent, and conviction. He was slain, his head taken, and hung from the palace, and the memories of Pai Shi Ten were returned to Elegant Honey Blossom. She could have taken command of the Empire, and ruled it again, but something unexpected happened. The memories of the great immortal arose, and Elegant Honey Blossom did not vanish under the tide of millenia. She stayed on her course. She declared that she would not take the Imperial Throne, but demanded only that the Aberrants be granted a Kingdom, and a world.

The one who replaced her took heed of her words, and granted a world in the Orion Spur to Elegant Honey Blossom, the first queen of the Aberrants. The Slime Clan warlord disappeared, and soon after, so did Elegant Honey Blossom. There are those who say she waits, hidden in plain sight, still possessing the endless resilience of one of the Undead, waiting for the day when the Empire forgets its pact with her, and begins to abuse the Aberrants again. They say when the Star Clan cease to fly around the Throneworld of the Aberrant Kingdom, she will arise again, in their hour of most desperate need.

The crowd looked somewhat melancholy at the story. “That one had a really sad ending too.” The Skin Clan gunner pouted, her green cheeks puffed out. “Don’t you know ANY happy stories?”

I gave her a smile. “I don’t know. The tale of Elegant Honey Blossom has the heroine victorious, and learning what really matters to her. Her journey is difficult, but she ends up succeeding. And who knows? Perhaps she’s still out there. Sinbad’s story is much the same.” I leaned back in the chair. “A good story requires despair. And there are few things in life that can induce despair like understanding. The Second Voyage of Sinbad was just such a time.”

“Does it have to have despair?” asked Renee, exasperated, to the laughter of the rest of the crew.

“Of course. If the hero is never shaken, if they never believe they are helpless and hopeless, then how can we cheer them on when they do the impossible?” I smiled. “The Cabbie returned, on the second day, and found Sinbad the Spacefarer waiting for him…

“And so, I set out again. This time, I joined with a band of immortality pilgrims. They were on their way to the Outer Arm, to join the Undead Kingdom, and become everlasting…”

Sinbad bustled in the kitchen, chopping up large blocks of colorful protein supplements. They were supposed to be boiled into a thin gruel, but he had discovered in early in the voyage that they could very easily be sliced into thin slabs, fried in a pan, and developed a quite satisfying texture. This had won him the favor of the entire crew, and he had enjoyed the domestic serenity of the job. Six pilgrims traveled, hoping to be gifted with eternal life. They were each wealthy, and had spent decades, even centuries, amassing the wealth needed to join what was, to Sinbad’s mind, an incredibly snobby retirement home. Nonetheless, he respected their desires. “Food’s on, everyone! Protein blocks ala Sinbad, with vitamin chips in a light engine fuel sauce.” He set down the plates, and the six passengers arrived.

“Ah, thank you, Sinbad.” The voice emerged from the grill. The ship’s captain, and to a lesser extent, the ship. The entire ship had been laced with Haunting Nanites, providing pathways for the owner to control it after he had converted his mind to data. One of the Ghost Clan. To Sinbad’s admittedly primitive human sensibilities, the man was now an artificial intelligence, but apparently, this comparison was considered incredibly rude. He was still of organic origin, and that apparently made a big difference for the people of the Empire. You just couldn’t figure, with some species.

“No problem, Torimaru.” He wasn’t sure whether the name had been the captain’s first or the ship’s. The two of them were practically the same being now. It made Sinbad a little bit nervous from time to time, but that was a bad habit he would have to overcome. The Undead Kingdom was a serene place, even compared to the rest of the Empire. They were also the most obsessed with technology and advancement. A conversion package could make an Imperial citizen even more potent than they had been before. Hypnotic sight and pheremone-based alchemy, enhanced physical attributes. It was a gingerbread house. The witch was the downside; Those who used Undead technology became a part of the Undead Kingdom. It was not a substantial mental change for an Imperial, but it was not something the Orion Hierarchy wanted affecting their soldiers.

A single example of Undead conversion technology without that little trojan installed would repay his debt in full. He would be free. All he had to do was march into the part of the galaxy with the most hostile attitude towards humanity, try to steal the most puissant technology they had, and get out, while working under a captain who was fanatically devoted to the Undead Kingdom and all it believed in.

He gave everyone a bright open smile as he scooped out large slices of the protein blocks, placing them onto plates with a warm, inviting smile. “Eat up, everyone. You can’t take it with you!”

The six of them were Beast Kingdom, from the three great clans. Lexie, a woman with cat-like features. Brutus, a young man who had large, bright, ant-like eyes, and a pair of antennae. Petri, a rather showy bureaucrat with peacock feathers and a taste for the American 1970s when it came to fashion. The other three were less easily identified, thousands of years old, and uninterested in the fad that was humanity. He hadn’t bothered to get to know them. He would be jumping ship soon enough. Petri turned towards the speaker grill. “I’m curious, Captain. When I looked up ships, yours advertised the shortest travel times. This is an excellent ship, but how do you manage to travel so quickly?”

“Ah. That is an interesting story. Well, as I’m sure you know, the path to the Undead Kingdom is difficult, primarily because of the roundabout direction. Most forms of transportation known to the Empire would not be able to easily cross the gulf between arms. You have to take the long route. I, however, found… Well, let’s call it a short-cut.”

The story of the Shining Wire is an unusual one. The Undead Kingdom was one of the later kingdoms, formed in response to the rise of life-extension technology. Because of their nature, they required little in the way of energy, and unnerved their neighbors. The Outer Arm was the perfect place for them to claim, and they stood on the borders of night, where nothing but cold empty sky was visible in most directions. The endless night of the Outer Arm suited them, and they could more easily colonize such worlds. The Undead Kingdom grew slowly, but its population never actually decreased. By sheer weight of the eons, they were the largest of the Ten Kingdoms in the Empire.

It was nonetheless true that they still desired communication and trade with the rest of the Empire. This was not easy. Their worlds were distant and remote, and required a roundabout ten-thousand-light-year trip simply to reach them. The Constructs and their wormhole technology were not welcome near the Undead Kingdom, and its territory stretched across a hundred thousand light years of space. It could take a decade to reach some of them.

The Empire’s solution had been indicative of the scale of their mindset. Starting from near where the Orion Spur intersected with the Perseus Arm, stars had been torn out of their orbit and placed into a new one. Even for the Empire, this was not a minor task, but the wealth of the Undead Kingdom could buy the labor and the materials needed. Placed into a new stable position in the orbital plane, the task took the better part of a millenia. When it was completed, the stars had stretched like the lights on a gleaming highway, two thousand light-years long. The star systems were left uncolonized, but fueling stations clustered around gas giants and suns, providing a direct line to the border of the Outer Arm. It was the Shining Wire.

For a long time, it was a popular route. Providing a line from the Undead to the rest of the Empire, it was considered a symbol of the unity of the Empire, living and undead. Then, the stations went dark.

They were still there. They were still run by their automated processes. They still fueled ships. But the people who lived aboard the stations had disappeared. At first the Undead Kingdom was blamed, accused of forcibly converting those aboard, but that did not explain where the Undead who had crewed the stations went. Constructs were left aboard the stations, crewing them. And then they, too, disappeared. The computers were found wiped, no sign of the sapient intelligences left. The stations were abandoned, left to work under their autonomic processes.

Then ships began to disappear. Vessels would enter the Shining Wire, and never come out the other side. Their arrival and departures were tracked by the station, and at random points between those lonely stars, they were gone. Sometimes, very rarely, the ships were found. No sign remained of the crews, their memories, their dog tags. Every hint that they had been aboard the ship was gone, and there was no sign of violence. The worst part, though, was the food. There would be dishes left, unfinished, food sitting untouched by age. It was if the entire crew had simply gotten up and walked out the airlocks during a meal.

Recriminations were thrown forward. A war was fought between the Beast and Undead Kingdoms over it. The Beast Kingdom claimed it was the Undead Kingdom, converting and claiming the living. The Undead Kingdom blamed Beast Kingdom pirates. The war ended when two fleets crossed the Shining Wire to meet each other, and were swallowed up in the darkness. Neither fleet was seen again. Peace broke out, and the Shining Wire was declared unsafe.

Dozens of theories sprang up. A sapient memetic virus that emanated from one of the stations and had infected the line. Dark invaders from the Outer Arm, aliens hostile to the Empire. The aforementioned Beast pirates and Undead corsairs, although why they targeted their own kind was unknown. Perhaps it was the work of dark things that lived in the great void between the arms, and objected to terrestrial life dragging their burning stars into the abyss. And perhaps it was simple madness. A reaction to the great darkness that drove Imperials mad, compelled them to destroy themselves, a nihilism that poisoned the soul. Who is to say what the most frightening possibility would be? The only thing that mattered was that the Shining Wire swallowed crews whole.

Of course, that was hundreds of thousand years ago. The Empire was young, then, and easily unnerved. If it had been a virus, it would be long dead and useless against modern technology. If dark invaders had existed, they would have moved beyond the Shining Wire at some point. Perhaps they had, and whatever race had done it had been assimilated long ago, now a part of the Empire. Pirates and corsairs would have long moved on to richer pastures. Creatures between stars would have been detected, and surely would stand no chance of victory against the great ships of the Empire in modern days. And if it were madness, a nihilistic urge, then the Undead Kingdom had conquered the desire to die, to be nothing, long ago. Whatever was there, it was no threat anymore.

That was what Captain Torimaru subscribed to. Most preferred the long, safe, certain path around the curve of the Perseus Arm, but he was one of the daring, and he crossed the Shining Wire. One hundred times he had made the journey, and he had never been consumed by dark intelligences or gripped with the urge to take his life and the lives of all those aboard the ship. This time would be no different.

Sinbad stared, his mouth open. Laughter broke out from the passengers. He looked around, feeling his nerves tense. “If this place is so dangerous, is it really a good idea? I mean…”

“Sinbad, come on. It’s a story! There’s nothing out here in the darkness. If there were, we’d know about it. We’ve been around a long time, we know quite a lot. Trust me, whatever it was, there’s no chance it’s still- Hrm.”

The sound of one of the Undead Kingdom drives had, Sinbad noticed, a very distinctive tenor. It reminded him of a theremin, almost. The first few days of dealing with the eerie wail, which rose and fell with their proximity to gravity fields, had been difficult.

It had just stopped.

“Don’t worry, folks. We’re just arriving at the next fueling station.” Torimaru’s voice was cheerful, and the passengers sighed. Sinbad was still tensed. He walked out of the passenger compartment, and into the cockpit, where the sensors showed the fueling station, dark and Gothic against the brilliant red surface of the gas giant below it. He tried, so hard, so gallantly, to not let it affect him. He failed miserably. A hundred thousand years evolution on the plains and jungles of Africa had trained his species well. Darkness was not safe. “You alright, Sinbad? I didn’t think that story would spook you so much.”

“It’s just… It sounds dangerous.”

“Sinbad, my boy, if there is one thing to know about the stars, it is that an awful lot of bad things have happened in them. There’s history on every star in the Empire. People die, often in horrible ways. Over the course of the Empire, you’d be hard-pressed to find any world without ghost stories. But that’s why the Undead Kingdom exists.” The screen blinked on, showing the kindly face of the owner, which hadn’t actually existed for several thousand years, at least. “The dead are nothing to fear. They don’t want to hurt anyone, you know? It’ll be alright, out here on the dark planes. I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought you were in any danger.”

The ship moved into a docking position with the fueling station. A brilliantly glowing conduit containing antihydrogen hooked on to the ship, and began the process of refueling. Sinbad watched the station, his eyes fixed on it, as he drummed his fingers on the console. A pair of yellow lights sat on the bridge of the space station, illuminating the windows. They looked like a pair of huge, glowing eyes. His breathing sped up a little.


“What?” Sinbad frowned at the console.

“The airlock seals aren’t unhooking. I hate to ask this of you, but do you think you could suit up and do a little manual removal? It shouldn’t be too difficult. Worst comes to worst, we just cut off the docking bolts, and let the station rebuild itself. I’d do it myself, but the maintenance pod isn’t as good at delicate touches as you are.” Sinbad looked up at the space station’s bridge. The lights had gone out. His knuckles whitened as he grabbed the console.

The ship’s vacuum suit made anything human-made look like a joke. It was nothing more than a small box that adhered to the back of the head. It provided a small field of oxygen, heat, and pressure, letting him work with barely any protection. It was fitted with a small set of gravity manipulators, letting him maneuver easily around the ship. He slid out through a pressure curtain airlock, into the darkness of space.

It didn’t look so different from the view at any other point in space. It was difficult to tell which stars were close and which were far with the naked eye. But somehow, he was aware of the great gulf around him, the darkness and cold. He looked down at the magnetic seals that held the ship against the station. There was no sign of anything that was causing the fault. He reached down, and keyed in a manual release command to the Torimaru’s docking codes. There was a chunk, as they released. The ship still didn’t move away. He frowned, and looked around. He searched for a manual release on the station’s docking tubes, but there was no sign of one. He took out the small plasma torch, and sawed through one of the bolts. There was a distant groan from his shoes up, which he ignored. He cut through the second bolt, and the third, as the groan grew more pronounced. As the fourth bolt was cut, the groan suddenly became a shriek, as the entire docking tube suddenly flexed, violently, whiplashing. The ship was hurled downwards, and the sound ended abruptly. The radio in the invisible suit crackled to life. “Sinbad! What the hell happened!”

He stared upwards. The thing that had been the fueling station looked down with malevolent yellow eyes, black tentacles reaching out. The docking tube, now a massive length of ebony jelly, reached out for the ship. “Jump! Torimaru! Jump now! Get the fuck out of here, as fast as you can, and don’t stop to refuel until you’re out of the Shining Wire!”



To his relief, the ship disappeared, entering faster-than-light, and leaving him behind. He looked up, his hands up, facing the massive black octopus-thing. He cranked the Plasma Torch from ‘cutting tool’ to ‘murder implement’, leaning backwards as the gravitic thruster on the backpack pulled him away from the creature. A six foot long line of plasma leapt from the torch, and sliced through the vacuum as the creature reached out for him. He was dead.

He turned his head over his shoulder. Behind him was something impossible. A gap in space, a perfect sphere of black. His gravitic thruster went crazy, shouting warnings as he tumbled towards it. Uncertain death. His eyes turned back towards the creature whose tentacles were winding towards him. Certain death. He leaned back, twirling, slashing through the encroaching tentacles as they approached. One of them dipped into the pocket of air around him, and a high, keening wail filled his ears. He kicked off of the thing. Its flesh was like rubber and it separated under the brutal flame of the plasma torch. He fell backwards through the darkness, and landed hard on his back. The sphere of black hung above him for a moment, before vanishing. He slowly sat up.

It was not difficult to tell where he was. The planet was unclear. There were stars in the sky, but he didn’t recognize them right off. There were mountains visible in the distance, but they could have been mountains on any world. But his location was obvious. He was in a graveyard.

Dozens of monuments surrounded him, ranging from small and tasteful graves with markers in Old Imperial, to gigantic mausoleums that must have contained entire extended families, or else belonged to the terminally wasteful. He slowly pulled himself to his feet. The world’s sky was a wild and vivid purple, shading in places to blue, and a brown dwarf was dimly visible. He rested a hand on one of the markers and bent forward to study it. He didn’t read Old Imperial well, but he took a moment to study it. There was a birth-date, and an epitaph, but no date of death. That was curious.

“Hey, you! What are you doing here?!” An agitated voice. It belonged to a young woman. He stood up straight, and inhaled sharply.

She was beautiful. Her skin was as pale as alabaster, and her eyes were bright red, glittering and standing out in the darkness of the world. Her hair was black like the feathers of a raven, and her lips were red as blood. She wore a suit of something like shiny black latex, clinging tightly to her figure, slender and youthful. She couldn’t have been older than 18 years, at least as far as her appearance went. She rode astride a great black mechanical horse. Its nostrils snorted exhaust, and its sleek pistons gleamed in the light. In her left hand she held its reins. In her right, she held a carved bone handle, from which hung a long whip, made of some fine braided metal. “Identify yourself, or I will take you in- Agh!”

In attempting to swing her leg over and off her steed, she overbalanced. Her arms windmilled as she pitched over, her legs catching around the robot horse’s midsection. Just as she did, her head tumbled off of her shoulders, end over end, and she let out a scream of fear. Some childhood reflex sent him into a dive, catching her head gently in both hands, cushioning her from the fall even as he landed on his stomach. She stared at him, and her pale cheeks flushed pink. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Thank you. Could you… put my head back on my body?” she asked, meekly, her pale cheeks still flushed. He stood up, and gently handed her head up to the groping hands. She lifted the head, and placed it back on her own body, carefully climbing down off of the horse. “Now! What is your name, and what are you doing on this world?” He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. She drooped, her fierce expression growing nervous, her straight back bending. “I- I’m sorry, sir. Please could you tell me what you’re doing here? We don’t get many visitors.”

“I am Sinbad, the Spacefarer. I was traveling along the Shining Wire with a group of pilgrims to the Undead Kingdom. We were attacked by a great beast, and I fell into a strange gap in space. And-” He stopped. Her mouth was hanging open, her eyes open wide, shining with excitement. “Are… you alright?”

“You’ve been to space?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Her eyes were wide.

“I suppose so… But in exchange, I need to find a way to get off of this world. In fact… What is this world?”

“Oh, how silly of me!” She smiled, and lifted the whip over her shoulder. “This is the Far and Sunless Land. Welcome to the graveyard of the Undead Kingdom!”

I sat back, smiling, as the story ended. The girls were staring, with open mouths.

“What happened to the space station? And Torimaru?”

I sat back, and did my best to remember. “Torimaru, as it happens, made it safely out of the other side of the Shining Wire, though he was running on fumes by the time he made it to an Undead Kingdom world. As for the space station, an expeditionary force was sent into the Shining Wire by the Empire. There was no sign of the refueling station. They decommissioned the rest of the refueling stations there, with no reports of incidents. Torimaru’s story corroborates Sinbad’s, at least until they parted company.”

The navigator shivered. “Spooky.”

I gave a broad smile. “Well, Torimaru’s ship was a simple passenger liner. I’m sure any dark creatures lurking between the stars would sooner choke on their own teeth than try to attack this ship.” We all were silent for a moment. When nothing hideous attacked, a collective sigh of relief filled the air. “Anyway, tomorrow, we’ll continue with the story.” I stood up, and found myself being approached by the navigator.

“Were you just telling those stories to scare us?” She was frowning, suspicious. “I’ve never heard of anything like those.”

“Well, it’s a lot like the Whales, or the Sun Kraken. It’s a terribly large universe we live in. There’s room for some very strange things to spring up.” I didn’t mention her eight undulating squid-like tentacles. They flickered yellow and blue. She was agitated. Most likely scared. “Although, I admit. The idea can be rather frightening for me, too. Do you think you’d be willing to keep me company tonight?”

Her irritable expression broke into a smile. “Really? Well, I mean, if you’re frightened, then sure.”

I gave her a bright smile as the two of us walked out of the dining room. “So, what’s our next stop?”

“We’re going to be going through a series of inhabited systems. We’ll need to stay in the sun’s photosphere, or Imperial Fleet sensors might pick us up. That would be problematic, we don’t want to get into a firefight while we’re carrying you.”

I nodded, rubbing my chin, considering my options, as I slid an arm around the navigator’s waist, enjoying the warmth of her skin. Information aside, I had to admit it was nice not to be sleeping alone.

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