Voyage

by E M Gale

  ‘I guess even in the future no one does anything architecturally interesting with most buildings–that is, unless ’concrete bunker’ is currently the height of architectural fashion.’

  I wandered over to the entrance, past the drop-off point and swanky bars and into the spaceport. I stood in a cavernous room, with people, trolleys, floating platforms, goods, noise, movement all going a hundred different directions at the same time.

  ‘Good old transport chaos.’

  I sliced through the crowd of people arriving, leaving and changing ships. I coasted around the edge of the building and spied an unguarded door marked ‘staff only’.

  ‘This is my problem, a huge terminal filled with alien species I’ve never seen before and machines I’ll probably never see again. I should spend a few hours just wandering around taking it all in, but no, one door that is probably alarmed, probably being watched by security guards and possibly just leads to a janitor’s closet, but I just have to look. What the hell is wrong with me?’

  I pushed the door open. It wasn’t locked or alarmed, and behind it was a concrete corridor.

  ‘Brilliant. I thought this door might lead to an access passageway… or a closet. It had to be one or the other.’

  I followed the tunnel along for a bit, nodding at the few people I passed. There were a few red-eyed spaceport workers, some wore uniforms, some not, and several carried clipboards. I guessed that they worked on the arriving and departing spaceships. That was what I was interested in: spaceships. Who wouldn’t be? Finding a handy sign pointing towards the docks I followed it. Despite the pretty, hi-tech comforts of the dirtside of the port, the spaceside areas were strikingly utilitarian.

  The tunnel opened out into a docking bay. There was a spaceship docked in it. It was huge, several storeys high, and curved with lots of bits jutting out all over the place. It was painted in many different colours, marking out docking bays, access hatches, airlocks, weapons and things like that. People crawled over it, undertaking maintenance, I supposed. They looked like ants crawling over discarded sandwiches to my untutored eye. I noticed some things larger than people moving around the spaceships as well. They looked like some sort of robots that were steered by humans or humanoid aliens; I could see people inside, operating the machine.

  ‘Mecha. Well, that makes sense. I would have been surprised if the Japanese hadn’t managed to create giant humanoid mechanised robots in two hundred years.’

  I kept slowly strolling around the edge of the docking bay, taking in the surroundings.

  ‘Rob would love it here. This should be the next place for him to visit.’

  But I kept walking past the spaceships; this wasn’t the time to be investigating them or doing anything to make me stand out. Following the edge of the docking bay, I fell in behind a small group of space… sailors, I guess. I overheard that they were heading out towards the bar and shadowed them along as they sauntered out of the docking bay and into a dive bar. I let them enter and hung around outside, smoking a cigarette and taking in the surroundings. Lots of people here, dirt, oil, and quite a noticeable lack of clipboards and official uniforms.

  ‘Looks promising.’

  I headed into the bar. Inside everything had been painted black, it was as if someone had stood in the middle of the room and just spun around and around with a bucket of paint. Even the windows were covered over in black paint, and they had cheap glow-in-the-dark stars affixed over them in a vague attempt at interior design. The place was pretty full, but not packed. Some ships’ crews were drinking in groups, laughing over their drinks and enjoying their shore leave, or planet leave, or whatever the correct term was. There were smaller, less raucous groups of people there as well, mostly hidden in the high-backed booths that ran down the wall.

  I seated myself up at the bar and admired the bartender; he was in his twenties and cute. He wandered over. I tried to speak Japanese to him, but he looked confused, even though he looked Japanese to me. However, he could speak perfect English, which was helpful. I ordered a sake, since I was in Japan, or one of her colonies: I’d order the beer when I found myself on one of Belgium or Germany’s extraterrestrial colonies.

  I was lucky. I was only halfway through my second sake when a weaselly-looking person–who was obviously practised at being subtle–came up and stood next to me.

  “Cigarettes. Cheap,” he said, out of the side of his mouth. He glanced at me, then looked away. The bartender ignored the smuggler.

  “Got some,” I said, looking at the bottles over the bar rather than my guest. “What else you peddling?”

  “Uppers, stimmers, good-quality orcian coffee–”

  ‘What the hell is in orcian coffee that it’s sold on the black market?’

  “–downers, blood–”

  ‘What?’

  “–and limited services.”

  “Hmm. I’m after something else.” I sighed regretfully.

  “Papers? Information? I can source a lot of things, young lady,” whispered the weasel out of the side of his mouth whilst he pretended to examine his fingernails.

  “IDs,” I replied, my eyes on the bartender as he cleaned the glasses.

  “Easily done,” whispered the smuggler.

  “Six people, how much?”

  “One thousand pelfre each.”

  I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. Then I decided to try using my vampire senses: my guest smelt. He had spent too much time in grubby bars and smelt of oil, blood, cigarettes and something strange that was probably orcian coffee.

  ‘Pungent.’

  His breathing and heartbeat were normal; this was obviously not a weird or scary situation for him.

  ‘Either he’s telling me the truth that IDs are no problem and he isn’t trying to screw me over, or he’s so great an actor he deserves my money.’

  “OK, I’ll bite,” I said, nodding ever so slightly even though I tried not to.

  “Be back here at three with the cash and photos.” He shuffled off. I thought he sold something to some of the guys in the booths, but I didn’t see what.

  ‘Three, then? That’s about twelve hours away. But hey, now my work is done, I’m on leisure time.’

  I grinned to myself.

  An hour or so later, I’d heard a few interesting stories, a few inexplicable jokes and a few clicks of empty sake bottles. I love sake; it tastes like vodka but you can drink it like wine. You need a lot for it to have an effect and I hadn’t had a lot. The bartender smiled at me and disappeared off, leaving his replacement behind the bar. A few minutes later, he came back out and took up residence by my side.

  “’Lo, mind if I join you?” He was smiling at me, well aware that I wouldn’t.

  “Off-duty, are you? I guess it’s not too bad a job, not far to go for a drink.” I smiled back at him, answering the question in his eyes.

  He grinned and ordered himself a drink from his colleague.

  “Green Guinness, that’s very… authentic.”

  “Isn’t it just.” He was being serious.

  ‘Oh, well, I’m not Irish and I would guess that there are more than enough Irish people in the galaxy to correct him. Except they probably won’t, they probably invented it to flog along with the traditional Irish pubs that are anything but.’

  He was eyeing me up over the glass. It was fair since that was what I had been doing to him all evening.

  “You’re far too hard-working, if you felt you had to wait ’til the end of your shift to chat me up,” I commented with a saucy smile.

  “Am I chatting you up?” he asked innocently.

  ‘God, I hate the ones who pretend that they don’t know their own motives. Why lie?’

  “Well, if you’re not going to, I guess I’ll have to chat you up instead.” I smiled.

  “Oh, and how would you do that?” He drained the last of his green Guinness.

  ‘He drank that quickly. Maybe they don’t give bar staff free food in the future.’

 
I smiled. “Well”–I wrapped my finger around a loose tendril of his hair–“I might start like this…” I moved myself closer to him, making sure our knees touched, ran the tip of my boot along the inside of his ankle, and stared deeply into his eyes.

  ‘Hmm, he’s cute. Especially when he blushes.’

  “Then maybe we could go somewhere a little more private, and you could find out what I would do next.” I grinned wickedly and brushed my hand along his jaw.

  ‘Honestly, why do I have to resort to the cheesiest of lines? Shouldn’t he be picking me up?’

  “I think I know a place,” he said, smiling as he stood up. We left the bar.

  * * *

  It was still dark when I left the bartender’s flat. I sauntered back through the city, feeling the currents of the night air on my skin, tasting his scent still on me.

  ‘At least I now know that vampires, or whatever the hell I am, can still have sex the, er… normal way.’

  I was smirking at the memory when I arrived back at the bar.

  It was coming up for two-ish. The bar hadn’t closed; I got the feeling it never did.

  ‘With the days being as long as three or four Earth days, I bet no one knows when they are supposed to be up and when they are supposed to be asleep. And, of course, there’s no reason that the ships coming into and out of port will be on the same diurnal rhythm.’

  Despite that, the bar was far emptier than it had been before. The replacement barman had himself been replaced by the next shift change. I bought a drink, more to have something in front of me than for the taste, and took a seat in one of the booths. They were sturdily made to withstand fights and had tall, black backs. They were mostly unlit, which was useful for hiding who was sitting in them. In the gloom under the table, I counted out three thousand pelfre and put the notes in a handy pocket.

  At about two-thirty my weaselly-looking friend, who had the orcian coffee still stashed somewhere about his person, wandered in with an orc for company. Espying me, they sauntered over to join me in my booth.

  “You got the pelf’?” asked the orc.

  ‘Oh, so I’m not going to get introduced then? Oh, well.’

  “Sure, you got the IDs?”

  “Payment up front,” said the orc.

  ‘Yeah, right, I’m not that green.’

  “I’ll give you twenty-five percent now, the rest when I get the IDs.”

  “Fifty percent up front,” said the orc; he grinned. I looked at the weasel. He didn’t look worried or avoid my eye.

  “That seems fair.” I smiled and put the three thousand pelfre on the table. The orc visibly relaxed.

  “It’s easy to do the IDs,” commented the weaselly guy.

  ‘Ah, I see. They thought I might be a cop or something similar.’

  I removed the pictures from my bag. “These are the people.” They nodded, all well-behaved now I’d paid them a bit. “These are the names.” I lined up the names and the pictures. I’d gone for my friends’ actual names–it was a little risky, but better than them giving themselves away by using the wrong names. And, well, I really ought not to have used my actual name, but it had taken me so long to get people to not call me by my first name that I just asked for an ID for ‘Clarke’. “And I want a second one with this photo for this name.” I wasn’t dumb enough to not create a spare with a fake name for myself. The orc grinned in an amused way and took the photos. “And I want an ID that will work, y’know. I need the relevant computer records.”

  “Of course. You’ll all be natives of Ragnarok IV, the blandest backwater planet in the galaxy.” The orc grinned. “And my IDs will even get you into Earth space,” he boasted, pointing his index finger at his nose for some reason.

  “Great.” I grinned. “When do I get them?” I asked sweetly; a little charm could go a long way.

  “Two Earth days from now, three o’clock.”

  I nodded. Our business concluded, they left. I waited for a while. No one paid any attention to me, no one arrested me, so I left the pub and walked out into no ambush.

  ‘Nice. I like honest thieves.’

  The planet had cooled significantly during the night. The astronomical twilight had gone and the stars shone brightly above. I noticed that the constellations were not the ones I would have seen from Earth. They were completely unfamiliar, indicating just how far away I was. From my research I knew that, Ragnarok IV was situated on the outside edge of the local arm of the galaxy, much closer to the edge of Solan-colonised space than to Earth, but there was a difference between reading a number on a screen and seeing entirely unrecognisable constellations.

  I stopped for a moment in a park that had a temple in it, and I looked up at the stars. I could see far more than I had ever seen from Earth, but I didn’t know if that was because my eyes were sharper, the air was cleaner or if there were simply more stars near here. The galaxy spread across the sky above me, millions upon millions of stars. I wondered how many had occupied planets circling them.

  Watching the millions of stars, I felt a kind of peace settle over me. The longer I looked, the more I could see. Around me the night was quiet. It did seem to be a local dead time of night, even if it was not any darker than before. I was utterly alone. I guess no one really wanted to stop and pray at the shrine at that time of night; the spirits weren’t so important that asking for their help couldn’t wait until morning.

  Standing there, I was aware that I was using my vampire senses, just in the background. I was getting used to them. I’d missed them.

  I decided to connect to the healing state. As soon as I thought about doing it, I was in it–my mind seemed to be good at falling into that state now. It was an intense feeling. Looking up at the stars, I felt connected to the universe, and somehow aiming inwards, I was connected to something within me. It was something bigger than me.

  Curious, I delved deeper. As before, I visualised a door. I was certain that it was something that really existed rather than a figment of my imagination. The door was open and beyond it was a great yawning blackness.

  I felt afraid. I had the feeling that this door was the boundary between life and death. No, that wasn’t quite right–more like it was the dividing line between what was natural and unnatural, or between death and immortality. The twin impulses of a human: to die and to live forever.

  Most people didn’t think it was possible to try to live forever. Instead they ignored their own mortality. Occasionally, they’d think life was hard and be glad it was not infinite, and on other occasions they’d be sad they couldn’t keep on living forever. But if they thought that it was infinite, if they thought they had the choice between immortality and death, would they be able to choose immortality? I mean really choose it with their eyes open? Would they be able to look up at the infinite numbers of stars and declare that they were worthy of it, that despite God setting down a time for them to die, they were better equipped to decide?

  Pausing at the doorway, I realised what I was doing, but moved forwards through the door nonetheless. For a moment, it felt like the entire universe moved, shifted, in some indefinable way. I felt like I moved, travelling aeons and returning to the exact same place, a movement of motion whilst standing completely still.

  Then the feeling of being connected to something greater than myself left me. And I have never felt it again. There was just me, the night and the quiet of the temple grounds.

  Ambush

  “Clarke!”

  I looked up from the lobby of the ryokan where I had been taking off my shoes. Anna bounced towards me.

  “Where have you been?” She gave me a hug. I returned it, somewhat confused.

  ‘Why is she upset?’

  I thought back over the events of the last few days.

  ‘I suppose I didn’t tell them I was going out, ’cos they were asleep. And I guess I’ve been gone for some time. But it’s not like I could phone them or anything. Hmm, phones, that reminds me…’

  “I wonder if we c
an get our phones to work here or if we should just pawn them?” I mused aloud. “They’re antiques now.”

  ‘Is that why I got such a good price for my watch? It was a swanky one that interfaced with my phone.’

  Anna put her hands on her hips, which was never a good sign. “I was worried about you! Yesterday you didn’t look at all well, and you’d vanished this morning.”

  ‘Worried? About me?’

  I peered at her. She did look worried. I wasn’t really used to that sort of thing.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She still looked upset. As I wasn’t sure what I could add to cheer her up, I changed the subject.

  “Guys…” I walked up to where they were seated on the low chairs of a lounge-style room watching this little scene. “What have you been up to today then?”

  Mark stared at me in disbelief. “Waiting for you!”

  ‘Really? All day?’

  “Why?”

  “Clarke, I was worried!” cried Anna, jogging up behind me. “What if you were in trouble somewhere?”

  ‘Heh, I’m usually in trouble somewhere, Anna.’

  “You’d probably hear about it sooner than if I was fine.”

  ‘But now I think about it, it would have been easy enough for the orc and his friend to dispose of my body somewhere, like outer space perhaps.’

  “Well, that is, unless they decided to dump my body in outer space,” I continued. “Then you’d never hear at all.” I shrugged and seated myself on the arm of a chair. Anna was staring at me, in shock, I think.

  “For goodness’ sake, Clarke! What would you do if I went missing for a day on a strange planet when the last time you saw me I looked at death’s door?”

  ‘Eh? I did?’

  “Hmm? What would you do then?”

  ‘That would be different. I can take care of myself, you can’t.’

  “Well, obviously, I would presume that you were in trouble. So I’d go looking for you. In case you were. But if I thought you weren’t–in trouble, that is–I’d start at the mall, ’cause you’d probably be there.”

  She sighed, shaking her head.