The Fortress in Orion by Mike Resnick

Pretorius.
    â€œThen I shall take you directly to the casino. Would you like a list of all the many games available?”
    â€œNo, and we don’t want the casino.”
    â€œI am afraid the hotel is full or fully reserved,” replied the vehicle.
    â€œWe don’t want the hotel, either,” said Pretorius.
    The vehicle, which had been heading toward the casino, paused, awaiting instructions.
    â€œTake us to the jail,” continued Pretorius.
    â€œAcknowledged,” replied the vehicle, changing directions and heading to the southern edge of the town. It arrived in four minutes, then stopped, opened its doors, and waited for them to exit.
    â€œWill you be wanting a ride back to your ship?” it asked.
    â€œYes, but I’m not sure how soon.”
    â€œI will wait here unless called away,” replied the vehicle. “If I am not here when you emerge, just stand in front of the building, and another vehicle will be by in a maximum of two hundred Standard seconds, usually sooner.”
    â€œThank you,” said Pretorius.
    â€œIt was my pleasure to serve you, sir,” said the vehicle, and suddenly Pretorius and Circe could sense that almost all of its systems had shut down.
    â€œWell, let’s go in,” he said.
    â€œI’m still not totally clear about this shape-changer that isn’t really a shape-changer,” replied Circe.
    â€œWelcome to the club,” said Pretorius. “Madam Methuselah was a little vague about a couple of things.”
    â€œAre you sure we really need it?” she asked. “I mean, we’ve got the Michkag clone.”
    â€œPretty sure,” he said. “At any rate, it can’t hurt.”
    She smiled. “Of course it can. That’s why you’ve brought me along.”
    â€œTo protect me?” he said, returning her smile.
    â€œOh, not physically,” she replied. “But to protect you against believing him if he’s lying.”
    â€œTrue enough,” he said, approaching the door. “Shall we go to work?”
    â€œLet’s.”
    They entered the jail and were confronted by a robot custodian.
    â€œMay I help you?” it said.
    â€œYes,” answered Pretorius. “I’m here to visit a prisoner.”
    â€œAnd which prisoner is that, sir?”
    â€œI’m going to mispronounce his name, I’m sure,” said Pretorius. “But it’s something like Grizcharly.”
    â€œAre you referring to Gzychurlyx?”
    Pretorius nodded. “That’s the one. What’s he in for?”
    â€œCheating at the casino, striking an officer, impersonating an officer, and impersonating an attorney.”
    â€œThat’s him, all right,” said Pretorius. “What’s his bail?”
    â€œYou are of the race of Man, are you not?” asked the robot.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHis bail, in your currency, is one hundred thousand Democracy credits.”
    â€œOkay,” said Pretorius. “Let us see him.”
    â€œFollow me,” said the robot, as another robot took its place by the door. It took them past two security stations, down two levels below the ground, and along the length of a short corridor to the very last cell.
    â€œWe have arrived,” it announced.
    Pretorius looked through the shimmering force field than encircled the cell.
    â€œYou must be mistaken,” he said.
    â€œThis is the cell of the prisoner you named.”
    â€œBut there’s nothing there but a lump of . . . I don’t know . . . fur, it looks like.”
    â€œThat is Gzychurlyx.”
    â€œBut—”
    Circe touched his arm, and he looked at her.
    â€œIt’s sentient,” she said.
    â€œ That? ”
    She nodded her head. “That.”
    He turned back to the robot. “Does it understand Terran?”
    â€œIs that what we are speaking?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThen yes, it does.”
    â€œOkay,” said Pretorius,