Even with his Coke-bottle glasses, the professor's eyesight wasn't as sharp as before, so he didn't notice the expression of abject glumness on Leela's face as she carried his head jar to the shelf. "And then I want you to take Delta along on the delivery to Omicron Perseii VIII," he rambled. "She's a robot, so she'll pick up the routine quickly."

"The routine, maybe," said Leela bitterly. "But interstellar travel is full of unexpected twists, and sometimes it takes human ingenuity to survive them. That's what makes us different from robots. That's the only reason they haven't taken over all of our jobs."

Farnsworth shook himself. "That's where you're wrong, Leela. A robot can do anything a human can do, and better. The only thing that stops robots from enslaving humans is the fact that we program them, not the other way around."

Leela rested the professor's jar on a cabinet shelf, but had more to say before she left him to his nap. "I don't hate Delta as much as I pity her," she stated. "She's not to blame for what she is, any more than I'm to blame for being a mutant. Imagine if you were programmed to be a love slave to someone you don't even love."

The professor smiled wistfully and began to hum. He's really imagining it, thought Leela. God, he freaks me out, and it's not just because he's a head in a jar.

She closed the cabinet, leaving Farnsworth with no illumination save a butterfly-shaped night light. Having nothing on her agenda, she wandered into the lounge, where Fry was passing the time by crumpling napkins and tossing them at the wastebasket. Most of his shots missed the target, and a few napkins even landed on the floor behind him.

"Hey, Leela," said the red-headed youth. "Sorry you can't stay with us. Say, do you have any plans for your big-screen TV? Not that I want it for myself, but Bender's got his eye on it."

Leela tried to ignore him and grab a cup for the water cooler, but the emotions would not be restrained. Before she knew it tears were streaming from her eye, and her arms were wrapped tightly around Fry's sloping shoulders.

Omigosh, thought Fry as he felt warm salt water soak his jacket. Does this mean we're dating?

"It's so awful," sobbed Leela, her nose buried in Fry's neck. "I have to live in a foul-smelling sewer, my job is going to a Stepford wife-bot, everything's going wrong at once."

"Don't cry, Leela," said Fry, but the cyclops girl only wept more earnestly. I wonder why it never works to say that, he thought.

Leela lifted her face, sniffled, and wiped her nose on the despised wrist cloth. "Something good's gotta come out of this," she said tearfully. "My parents told me that when God closes one manhole, he opens another. But I just can't see it."

While Fry tried to console his sorrowing friend, a news broadcast unrolled on the TV screen suspended from the lounge ceiling. Two people, Morbo the alien and Sean Hannity's head, were debating current issues from opposite sides of a round table.

"Your so-called defenses are inadequate," Morbo snarled. "Our battle fleet will crush them with little or no effort. All of your pathetic attempts at resistance are doomed!"

"Now let's examine what you just said," countered Hannity's head. "True, your fleet is quite impressive, but don't forget that when you strike a blow at Earth, you strike a blow at the entire Democratic Order of Planets. Our allies have come to our aid consistently in the past, and we expect they will do so again. You're not exactly a popular person, Morbo—just look at your ratings."

The exchange was abruptly interrupted. "This just in," said blonde newscaster Linda. "The DOOP starship Nimbus has returned from a mission to the Cerulean Nebula—minus its legendary captain, Zapp Brannigan."

Leela promptly forgot her sadness and jerked her head toward the screen. "Check it out," said Fry facetiously. "Something's happened to your boyfriend."

"He's a boy, all right," Leela retorted. "But he's not my friend."

They watched in bemusement as Kif Kroker, acting captain of the Nimbus, related his story over the airwaves.

They say a space pod's large enough to support one person, thought Zapp, glancing around at his cramped surroundings. Maybe they should revise their estimate.

Unable to straighten his knees or his neck due to the small size of the craft, afraid of moving his arms lest he should bump a lever and throw off the trajectory, Captain Brannigan floated through space inside a metal shell for what seemed like a very, very long time. There's only one thing for a space captain to do when faced with such a dire situation, he mused amidst the silence and darkness. Quote Shakespeare out loud while no one is listening.

"'Tis a far, far better thing I do than I have ever done," he muttered. "'Tis a far, far better…oh, screw this! Shakespeare can't help me. His characters always end up dead!"

I wish Leela were here with me. Lovely, sexy Leela…

Kif witnessed solemnly from the Nimbus bridge as the tiny vessel disappeared into the hatch of the nearest pirate ship. I'll send your regards to your mother, he thought. Signaling with his hand, he said to one of Zapp's faceless minions, "On my mark."

The viewscreen lit up with the image of shaggy-headed Captain Balalaika. "Yarrr, matey," drawled the pirate leader. "Ye should know by now that trustin' a pirate is a mistake ye only makes once."

Kif nodded and struggled to look confident. "I'll certainly never make it again," he agreed.

Balalaika turned his head, but Kif could see the wanton hatred in his eyes. "All ships," he commanded, "fire on the Nimbus and destroy it!"

"Engage!" Kif bellowed at his subordinate.

The faceless minion punched a button on his console, and the ship lurched into violent action, speeding ahead on a direct collision course with the enemy vessel where Zapp had set down. Fiery missiles streaked through the empty space the Nimbus left in its wake.

Balalaika was struck with terror as he watched the massive starship loom ever larger on his screen. "The man's insane!" he exclaimed, abandoning his pirate brogue. "At that speed, he won't be able to break away in time!"

To be continued