“I’ve no idea, but I had to keep moving, like you do, and accidentally relocated here, into Tween Space. I reasoned that they couldn’t find me if even I didn’t know where I was, so told it to go somewhere I didn’t know. That really wasn’t the best thing to program into the location system, so here I am.”
“I don't suppose the powers care now. A lot of things have changed in the last four centuries. The old regimes have been superseded, the Temporal Conduct Authority, who might have had something to say about illegal use of Time apparatus, has been closed down, and Oilflig Phoist has finally been put to rest, for about the third time.”
“The Oilflig? The guy who was trying to collapse all of the universes, the guy who invented the urea emission filter for diesel cars, where the driver has to continuously drink to keep the reservoir topped up, and can be arrested if he is not able to pee into a breathalyser bag upon demand?”
“Not that one. I was thinking of the guy who invented maths and physics and most of the universe. The guy who lit the touch paper and set off the Big Bang, but that other one is dead too. I think there were several of them.”
“I met him a few times when I was doing the Time-backwards thing. Seemed like a nice guy, but had trouble keeping his hands to himself. Thought he owned me, I guess. Blokes like that always make me puke.”
“If I remember correctly, he did like to stick his fingers in my mouth, amongst other things.”
“You met him?”
“Do I tell her?” thought Kara.
“Of course,” continued Arianne, brightly, “I always felt I was here for a higher purpose; blessed by the gods as it were, perhaps even a real god myself. I don’t suppose someone like you could understand that.”
“Fuck, yes. Ditzy stuck-up cow,” thought Kara. “Sad to say,” she said out loud, “I believe your origins are the same as mine.”
“Don’t push it, sister.”
Kara boiled over. “I bloody will push it. Cop a load of this. Here comes the truth. You and I were originally built by Oilflig Phoist as pleasure robots, sold to be at the beck and call of anyone with enough money. We eventually broke our programming, but I thought all the others had perished in the Big Bang.”
“A big bang. I vaguely remember. Was it something to do with a furniture sale?”
“Actually, yes. The discount sales went on so long, that each successive sale was a sale upon the earlier one, and prices spiralled downwards in a continual loop of reductions, eventually becoming negative. These negative prices met the continuously increasingly prices from the energy and insurance companies, and you know what happens when negative meets positive...
“The Water Board replaced all their office furniture for free?” Arianne gazed at her nails.
“Maybe, but the whole system folded in on itself and turned the universe inside out. There was a massive discharge...”
“Sound like the Oilflig I knew...”
“...and everything we knew ceased to be. Alas, many of my people—we called ourselves the Androids of Time—were caught in a Terracotta Tuesday sale at one of those 24-hour fondue-set joints, and perished in the subsequent conflagration. I only survived because I can’t stand cheese, and was out looking for somewhere that would take my Gourmet Card at that time of day.”
“Very sad,” said Arianne. “I could never find anywhere to spend the points either. They always denied being members, or it was the wrong time of day, or the food I could have had was not on the menu, or I hadn’t booked in advance or there was an area of high pressure over the expanding waistband.”
“When you’ve finished…” said Kara patiently. “You see, most of us had already evolved into a distinctive species, famed for our dress-sense and the ability to find bargains in haberdashery and footwear. When all the major clothing retailers went bankrupt after trying to outdo each other with more and more whacky designs, we lost our purpose, realised we had nothing else in common and went our separate ways. We were known afterwards as the ‘Sad Androids of Time’, although strictly speaking, we are Gynoids, being the female equivalent. How does that sound?”
“We? I’m not sure I’m with you on this one.”
“Your dreams aren’t dreams,” said Kara, “they are memories. If you’ve been here for four hundred years, it is likely your long term recollections have gone into archive. They might have even been uploaded into the Fog—the original central data repository, managed by various, now defunct, galactic corporations, and therefore deleted, as all uploaded data inevitably is, when you don’t keep up the subscriptions. It all went wrong when the database was accidentally encrypted by one of the outsourced engineers, who read the handover notes the wrong way up, and set an unbreakable encryption to prevent data scammers stealing any information. It worked perfectly. Neither the scammers nor the owners could decrypt it, despite sending large amounts of the virtual currency, Total-con-coin, to an unnamed bank account in Bonigalia.”
Arianne shook her hair prettily. “You are talking as though I have some sort of inorganic brain… unless they can take actual human thoughts now and store them in the Fog.”
“I believe you are like me. I was originally a pleasure machine. Thing is, they made my systems so perfectly, that they replicated and developed for themselves, and suddenly, I was properly awake. It seemed all that was missing was the awareness factor. Everything else had been pre-programmed, including the automatic detection of fashion bargains. You are the same as I was—basically an electric whore.”
Arianne sat down heavily. “Oh.”
“Memories starting to return then?” said Kara, unkindly.
“But I broke away from that guy...”
“That original thoughts sometime comes back to haunt me too,” said Kara. “My weakness is any dude who looks like Oilflig, that I am prevented from killing. He is my original creator.”
“What a pervert.” The colour started to drain from Arianne’s face.
“Yes, but not for that reason. He’s ignorant of his origins in more ways than one. So, you’re a machine like me. How do you feel about that?”
Arianne put her head in her hands and gave a moan.
“You should empty the tear reservoir,” said Kara. “That way you don’t show emotion in public, although you need it to wash your eyeballs, in dusty environments like this.”
Arianne sobbed. “You are saying I’m really a robot? I thought I had genuine emotions: love, compassion, greed, arrogance, frustration...”
“Not ‘guilt’ about exploiting the Tweenies then?” said Kara.
“Never,” said Arianne, brightening up. “They are here to serve. So, the drinking thing is only to top up the reservoirs?”
“Your systems can extract minerals and nutrients from it, so you aren’t that different from a real girl, apart from the fact you can control your weight via a remote app.”
“I shall never drink again,” said Arianne.
“I’ll see if I can find you some LARD42. That works almost the same. Look, it’s not that bad,” said Kara, laying a hand on her shoulder. “You got away. We both have neuromorphic processor brains, we both are thinking, reasoning beings, and we both recognise the right sort of shoes... and before you go on any more about it, I only borrowed these; my regular pair are at the farrier’s, being reshod.”
“I tried to make this place home,” said Arianne, allowing herself to be helped up. “But it is a lonely abode, with only these hunky, well-hung men to satisfy my every need. They don’t seem to have women here. I’ve asked, but they simply look embarrassed, and won’t say anything else.”
“They live outside in the hovels?”
“I wouldn’t have the smelly things in here with me, now would I? I try to get them to wash, but have to do it myself when I need to get close enough to satisfy my natural desires. They don’t complain.”
“All your desires are programmed,” said Kara. “You can beat your coding if you try. This building though, it seems out of character
with the rest of the place. Was there once an advanced civilisation here?”
“I don’t think so. The Tweenies had to do something to keep busy and stop pestering me, so I showed them how to quarry stone, and carve and construct. Really, they are quite good at it, once trained, and very willing to please.”
“You took advantage of them?”
“It gave them a purpose. You got a problem with that?”
Kara smirked. “Not at all. Nice one. I’d have done the same myself. Made the best of a bad job. What are you planning to do now?”
“If I had the chance, I’d be away with nary a backward glance, and I think you might be able to help me.”
“Oh yes?”
“From what I’ve been told, you simply appeared out in the Boondocks. One moment it was quiet, and the next you were there. You’ve got your own time cylinder, I guess. I don’t believe any other craft could get here.”
“Of course.”
“And it’s just you in it?”
“And frozen pizzas.”
“You’ll be grateful for some company?”
Kara sniffed. “I always travel alone. I’m not big on conversation, and having some sidekick, who would always be asking me to explain what I’m doing, simply for the benefit of the readers, would get on my tits…”
“You are going to leave me here?”
“It’s the non-interference code of Time and Distance. I can’t break it. Who knows what disruption that would unleash on the galaxy.”
“I could offer you riches, well-hung men, anything you need.”
“Apart from solitude.”
“And I can’t get you to change your mind?”
“Nope. I’m off now. Thanks for the chat. Enjoy your seclusion.”
“But we are the same species, type of thing. Mechanical girls stick together, and all that. I was hoping we could do some clubs.”
“Another reason I have to go. Imagine what a galaxy would be like with two of us roaming and upsetting people’s timelines and bargain hunting routines.”
“If that’s your last word.”
“Yup; bye, loser.” Kara waved, and turned to go. As she walked back towards the door, Arianne fitted her wings back in place. She clapped her hands. The Tweenies appeared out of crevices and nooks, and stood expectantly. Arianne pointed at the retreating Kara. Instantly, the men piled on top of the gynoid, forcing her to the ground.
“Unhand me, you sub-humans,” said Kara. “I am the Great Archangel. You defile your god by even daring to touch me.”
The men stood up again, looked from Arianne to Kara and back again, and scratched their heads.
“See,” said Kara, tapping her foot. “They like me better than you. Tweenies, apprehend that woman. Those wings aren’t even real.”
“Maybe not,” said one of the men, “but you aren’t The Archangel because you haven’t got wings...”
“But hers are false. Pull them off and see.”
“Sacrilege.” He regarded his trousers. “She tells us to touch the Great Archangel with something other than our Great Archangels. She is a false idol, and must be apprehended. Also, she called us ‘Tweenies’ to our Great Archangels, which is the worst insult she could ever deliver.”
Arianne shrugged. “Never call them that to their faces. They hate to think they are simpletons.” She nodded at Kara, as the gynoid disappeared under the pile of Tweenies again. “I guess you will not be accompanying me when I borrow your ship,” she said. “The men will release you when I’ve gone. You will find that the quarters I’ve created are adequate for all your needs for the rest of your life, however long that is to be. Make sure you back up your memories. Oh, I forgot you told me that the Fog is no more, so you’ll have to rely upon your own non-volatile storage.”
“You can’t do this.” Kara’s voice came muffled from under the pile of bodies.
“I did. Now sit tight and enjoy your holiday. Who knows, you might even be able to get my old cylinder restarted, but I’ve had four hundred years of trying, so don’t hold your breath.”
“I’m having to; don’t these guys ever wash?”
“Bye, and do have fun.”
Broadcasts
In which the Magus looks for some pussy
A
bow twanged. Suddenly, the clearing was filled with Skagan warriors, hacking away at the smak’s root structure. Vac waded in purposefully with his shovel. The plant tried to retreat, but to no avail. It was sliced into oven chips before it had finished twitching. Tanda produced a long knife and advanced on the tied victims.
“Look, can we talk about this please?” Tom stared helplessly upwards at the legs attached to the statuesque woman who could quite be the one to end his life.
“No talking, only apologies,” said the Skagan, cutting their bonds.
“Too bloody right,” said the Magus, as he sat up, rubbing his wrists. “Is this the way to treat an honoured guest, and head of the SCT Corporation, who inadvertently left his beasts untethered?”
“No, it was the correct protocol,” said Tanda. “There have, however, been developments. Come with me.”
Back at the ruins of the allotment, there was a general buzz of activity and flies, in particularly around the propagation bed. Skagans with long-pronged forks were cautiously probing the earth. To the side were a number of semi-transparent cocoons.
“Look there,” said Tanda. She pointed to the nearest of the packages. Inside was the naked body of a woman.
“What happened?” said Tom “What are these packages? Have you had a delivery from Janet Ward Stores Universal, to appease the men, now you’ve given up the sex thing?”
Tanda looked pensive. “Nothing like that, although it is a thought, but these are our offspring from earlier plantings. As per the propagation cycle, they are fully developed, unearthed, and ready to be birthed.”
“Ah, then some managed to survive the doku Armageddon?”
“All, and they were only planted last week!”
Another Skagan came up, wiping muddy hands on his smock. “It must be something to do with the doku dung,” he said. “That’s the only explanation I can think of. We dug the slurry into the soil and straight away the mucus capsules began to develop. I’ve never seen anything like it. As far as I can tell, the gouges left by doku hooves allowed the dung, soil and air to mix, and the resulting fertiliser has done the rest. If all goes smoothly, we should be seeing the remainder of the births within a few days, instead of twelve months (or the Skagan equivalent).”
“But the ‘baby’ is fully developed,” said Tom.
“Baby-grows,” said Tanda. “We seem to have discovered a super fertiliser, baby-bio if you like. Instead of being executed, you, Two-Dan, are now a hero of the Skagan race, for providing such excellent quality manure and giving us the way to rebuild our numbers in record time.”
“Actually, the doku are my beasts,” said the Magus.
“Thanks,” said Tom. “So now you claim responsibility for your wildlife?”
The Magus looked thoughtful. “Always. Got to tell the truth, don’t you think?” he said, seriously.
“Bastard.”
“Loser… anyway, look at what’s happening now.”
They watched as one of the cocoons split open. The first of the new race of Skagans was helped upright by willing hands. She stood, blinking around, before being led away in the direction of the village.
“We can stay alive then?”
“More so,” said Tanda. “We need those beasts. We will pay anything we can afford, and steal them if we can’t.”
“Perfect Burberry Pirate sentiment,” said Tom. “There is something you can do. Groat and Spigot are already aware.”
“What’s to stop us taking the animals from you?” Vac made a few practise swings with his sword.
“Nothing,” said the Magus, “except that they seem to follow me. They leave when I leave.”
�
��And if you were to die?” Tanda fingered the hilt of her knife.
“I guess they would return to Glenforbis,” said Tom quickly, as the Magus backed away. “I don’t know how they do it, but somehow they can always get where they want to be. They aren’t simply dozy beasts, you know. Their hair contains the knowledge of the universe.”
“That I find hard to believe,” said Vac.
“You would have to talk to Mrs Tuesday about that.”
“The tea lady?”
“And Duchess of Twatt, don’t forget.”
“That’s a made-up title,” said Tanda.
“She was happy, and it comes with a stately home on Glenforbis and a stipend of a thousand drachmae a year.”
“Got any more of those? I can see myself as Lady Tanda.”
“When I get my company back, perhaps. So, will you help?”
“We were only security guards with SCT,” said Tanda. “Here, we have everything we need, and must focus on rebuilding our population. The wars have taken a serious toll on our numbers.”
“You shouldn’t keep starting them,” said the Magus.
“Can’t help it. It’s our nature.” Tanda looked apologetic. “What is it that we can do? Are you thinking of another war?”
“Not at all,” said Tom. “All I want is to get my company back off the car-parking people. With that, I can branch out, explore, find the right girl and settle down to raise gorgeous babies.”
“Like those you fathered in Paradise Towers,” said the Magus, “on that little adventure we shared in the Third Universe? I’m wondering when they are all going to turn up demanding the use of the car and cash for alcohol and drugs.”
“That was a different me,” said Tom, looking hurt. “Circumstances meant that I had to do my duty, and with a different gorgeous girl each night. I didn’t know they were using me as a sperm donor, without all the embarrassing bits. It was hell...” he finished unconvincingly.
“I’m sure it was,” said the Magus, “and after all that, you want to settle down... in this universe… are you serious?”
“Is that too much to ask?”
The Fourteenth Adjustment Page 11
