by E M Gale
‘I’m going to be sleeping in a two-hundred-year-old vampire’s lair. What are we expecting here? Blood on the walls? Rotting corpses? OK, well, it’s my lair so… Argh, I dunno.’
The robot led me up to a door. I opened it cautiously and glanced at the room.
‘No traps, no vampires, no bombs, no pirate assassins… that I can see.’
“Anything the matter?” asked the robot.
“Uh… can you check for traps?”
The robot laughed. “No one would be stupid enough to set a trap in your quarters,” said the robot.
I raised an eyebrow at it. “You’re acting more like a person and less like a robot again,” I remarked absent-mindedly.
I walked into my suite, or rather pied-à-terre. I had a small reception area with a bedroom off of it. The reception area led down six stairs to a living room with a white carpet, black sofas and a huge window or viewscreen with a view of space. I also had my own sims room and a bathroom with a sunken bath thing that seemed huge after being on ship. In all, the rooms were not that big though–they were smaller than my friends’ suites. There was not much in the way of frippery, thank goodness, and the decor was mostly black and white.
The robot had followed me around as I had explored.
“So, robot, I can ask now that the others aren’t here. Is my future self running around this space station at the moment?”
“No.”
‘That’s handy, I could nick her quarters.’
“She leave a message for me?”
“No. She’s not exactly known for being communicative.”
I strolled into the bedroom and opened up the wardrobe and drawers. There were a lot of clothes here, nice clothes as well, so I wasn’t going back to the ship for luggage. My future self still had a thing about wearing black. I tended to wear three colours predominantly: black, red and white, in that order. She had the same colours but had expanded the range to include blue and gold. I fingered some of the clothes. They felt like good material.
“Am I rich?” I mused.
“Yes,” said the robot.
‘Neat.’
“Well, I’m nicking these clothes,” I said with a grin.
“It’s somewhat difficult for you to do that.”
“Eh? You going to stop me?” I asked, raising my eyebrows in a ‘you dare try’ look.
“They belong to you.”
I shook my head.
‘Not to me, to her.’
There were normalish clothes: loose, lightweight trousers and tops, a few shirts and jackets, then there were the less normal clothes, such as the intriguingly pretty velvet dresses.
‘A vampire wearing a velvet dress is kinda… clichéd, but I am a vampire and I do like velvet dresses so… I’m sure it wouldn’t look too bad. At least I don’t feel the need to pretend to be Elizabeth Bathory.’
“I should probably tell you,” started the robot, “that the docking and repair costs of the Silvered Cloud have already been charged to your account.”
I looked at it. “How much was that?”
“Seven hundred thousand pelfre.”
“Ouch!” Then I laughed.
‘That’s what the captain and major were thanking me for. And that explains why the major gave me an odd look when I asked about my share of the ransom money. It’s probably far less than that.’
‘Hey, does that mean I own a docking bay here? That points more towards Rob still being alive, right? Why would a random vampire let me own a docking bay and a suite here? Unless he’s someone my future self knows. He must be, right?’
‘But surely Rob must be a vampire. Why would anyone choose to die when they needn’t? After all, I could turn him.’
“So then, Rob, where are you?” I asked the robot.
“Uh, who are you talking to?” asked the robot.
“You.”
“My name is Igor.”
I crouched down to look it in the face. “Is Rob alive?”
“No. I told you that.”
“Is he a vampire like me?”
“No.”
I stared at the robot. “Really?” I said in a small voice.
“Yes. Really.”
“You’re not lying to me?”
“No. I said I can’t lie.”
I looked down at the carpet. “He’s really dead at this point, then?”
“Yes.”
‘Right.’
I sat down on the floor and stared out at the stars, rubbing my eyes.
‘Is this what being a vampire is? You leave your friends behind and continue to live on?’
I sighed and shook my head.
‘I don’t want to think about this now. I have thirty years to think about it.’
“Take me to Dracula,” I commanded.
“I can’t.”
I stared at the robot and raised my eyebrows. It didn’t add anything else.
‘Rather terse, this robot.’
“Can you tell me his real name?”
“Pierre Picaud.”
I stared at it.
‘Why didn’t it just say that earlier?’
“That’s his real name?”
“Yes.”
“Not Robert Deegen.”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, Clarke.”
I sighed.
‘Stupid robot.’
“Why can’t I see him?”
“He doesn’t want to see you.”
‘Fair point. Anyway, if he knows my future self I might give myself away by barging in on him with no knowledge of our past history. Plus if he isn’t Rob in disguise, why would I want to see him?’
“So… you’re not this Pierre guy pretending to be a robot then?”
“No.”
“Why were you acting strangely?”
“I was programmed by Robert Deegen. Occasionally I quote him to his friends.”
“As determined by a time weighting over the whatever it was?”
“Fuzzy logic.”
“Why are you being less weird now?”
“You aren’t asking odd questions at the moment,” said the robot.
I lay down on the floor and noticed that my future self had plush carpets here.
“He’s dead then?” I asked quietly.
“Who?”
“Robert Deegen.”
“Yes.”
“But he didn’t die in the war.”
“No.”
“Did I really fight that damn battle two nights ago?” I mused.
“I don’t know.”
I was talking to myself, letting the robot’s monotonous voice fade into the background of my thoughts.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hey, computer-thing… have you got access to old historical records?”
“Yes.”
“Have you got access to the record of what happened during the final battle of the Etrusian war?”
“I can get that from my databanks.”
“Was there a camera recording the events on the bridge in the last battle of the Etrusian war? The bridge of the UNSF flagship, that is.” I lifted my arms up above my head and looked at the back of my hands.
“There is such a recording.”
“Do you have a copy?”
“Yes, actually, I do. Do you want to watch it?”
I turned my head to look at the robot. “Surely it’d be a matter of national security?”
“It is a hundred and sixty-seven years old, and now a matter of public record. The data was released a hundred years ago.”
“Y’know, if vampires can live two hundred years then holding on to records ’til most of the people in it are dead just means it turns up to embarrass the vampire once they’ve moved on.”
The robot did not respond. I guessed he didn’t want a discussion about how the military dealt with its records.
“OK, then, can you play it to me?”
“Yes.”
“Just the audio.”
“Don’t you want to watch it?”
“No.” I shook my head and stared at the ceiling.
The robot started playing the recording. I heard my voice asking the bridge staff questions, the same dumb questions I had asked on the day. I didn’t want to hear Rob’s death again. Even if I now knew that it wasn’t his actual death.
“Can you skip forward?”
“Yes, where to?”
“Please skip forward to five minutes before the aliens surrendered.”
‘That ought to miss it.’
I heard my voice threatening to stamp on quarks. I heard myself telling them to search the wreckage. I sounded… bad. Real bad.
“OK, stop playing,” I said.
‘So it wasn’t a dream. I actually did win that battle. In fact, I’ve gone down in history as the person who threatened to stamp on an entire fleet personally. And the whole thing with Rob’s death, that was real, and now a matter of public record.’
‘Except he didn’t die, not then. He ended up here. He built a time machine and kidnapped me, dumping me on the bridge of the UNSF flagship, whilst he and my future self teleported the Icarus here and faked an explosion. Clever–fake the explosion in the middle of the enemy fleet, and no one would be able to tell that there wasn’t enough wreckage to account for the Icarus.’
‘As for the name Icarus, that must have been Rob’s idea: he’s the only person who would choose that. How stupid. It makes it look like he knew it would blow up. Why would my future self have let him do something so dumb?’
“Why the hell did we nick that ship anyway?” I said out loud in my frustration.
“I don’t know,” said the robot.
“I wasn’t asking you.” I sighed.
‘I suppose it won us the war.’
I took my sword off my hip and turned onto my side. I suspected it made a good image. Me in black, lying on the deep white carpet staring out at the stars through the big picture window. I reached my hand out towards them, feeling the rough wool under my fingers.
“Robot-thingy, why are you still here?” I asked him. The robot seemed like a person to me–it seemed unfair to keep calling him an ‘it’. Especially as I didn’t like people calling vampires ‘it’.
“Do you want me to go?”
“No, I don’t mind. But don’t you have a job to do?”
He said nothing.
“You’re doing it, aren’t you?”
No answer.
“What are your orders?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Oh, go on.”
He said nothing.
‘Stupid robot.’
“Does the UNSF know about it?”
“What?”
“The ship, that we half-inched it?”
“I don’t understand.”
“That we nicked the ship. Does the UNSF know that?”
“Which ship?”
I sat up and turned to the robot. Its camera eyes were focused on me. “This ship, you overblown tin can, this ship!”
“You haven’t stolen this ship.”
“Huh, I think I will!”
“If you try to steal this ship I will be forced to restrain you.”
“Ooooooo, I’m scared,” I said sarcastically. “I meant in my future in the past. I think I will help Rob nick this ship and dump it here when I ought to be fighting a war. Why the hell would I do that?”
“I don’t know. You get some crazy ideas sometimes, Clarke.”
I raised an eyebrow at the robot. “You sure you’re just a computer?”
“I am an AI.”
“Yeah, yeah. What are the others doing now? Can you ask the space station’s computer that?”
“Mark and Jane are currently located in Jane’s quarters. I would not be able to say what they are doing.”
I grinned.
“Since Anna is in her quarters and ran a bath about twenty minutes ago, I would estimate that she is bathing.”
I rolled my eyes.
“And Rob is looking for you.”
“Oh, where’s he looking?”
“He’s wandering aimlessly.”
“Does he have a nice robot to talk to?”
“Oh, Clarke, I’m flattered, you called me nice!”
I frowned. “That was not a very robotic response.”
The robot laughed.
“That was a laugh, wasn’t it?”
Nothing.
“Oooo, now you’re choosing whether or not to answer my questions?”
“I answer your questions.”
“Why haven’t you rebooted for a while?”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t believe you.” I stared at the robot until I got bored with the silence. “Anyway, will Rob be able to find this room?”
‘I can’t let him ask why I have a big, permanent room here. And there’s probably stuff in the drawers that would give me away.’
“Only if he asks around.”
‘’Asks around’? I can’t let him ask for me! Who knows what he might find out? Shit!’
I stood up, strapping my sword back on.
“Can you take me to him?”
“Follow me,” said the robot.
We left the room, the door locked behind us, but as it wasn’t airtight I relied more on my future self’s reputation than on the locks. We headed into the elevator to the strains of Living Dead Girl.
“Robot, what’s the deal with the music?”
“It’s lift music.”
“I know that. Why vampire songs?”
“They’re not vampire songs. This song is by a zombie.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Rob Zombie. He wasn’t really a zombie. Why this track?”
“It’s in the playlist.”
‘Stupid autistic robot.’
“Why is the owner of the space station trying to let me know he knows I’m a vampire?”
“He isn’t. Why would he?”
Paranoid by Black Sabbath came on next.
“Riiight. And anyway, if I helped Rob steal this ship, and he is dead, like you say, why isn’t it my ship?”
“It’s not your ship. You own your quarters and your docking bay, that’s all.”
“That was answering a different question to the one I asked. Why isn’t it my ship?”
“I don’t know.”
“I want my ship back!” I wailed.
“It’s not your ship.”
We rounded a corner and I saw Rob. I smiled at him.
‘I hope he’s not asked any stupid questions and found out anything he ought not to have. I’d better be careful to not give anything away.’
“Hey, Rob, what is your opinion on a little ship theft?”
‘Oh, nice one, Clarke. Subtle. Real subtle.’
The robot laughed. Rob’s expression went from happiness to confusion. I just smiled at him.
‘It was probably his stupid idea to nick this damn boat. But how on Earth did he manage to persuade my future self to go along with it?’
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
‘Ah, recovery time.’
“And, hey, where’s your robot?” I asked.
“Eh?”
“Well, this here’s my favourite tin can,” I said, tapping the robot on the head. “It seems that he’s been specially programmed to answer back to me.”
“It said it was your robot? Why have you got a robot? Why don’t I get a robot?” Rob was waving his hands around.
“I dunno, he won’t tell me anything useful, but he keeps following me around.”
Rob frowned. “Huh, why didn’t I give myself a robot?”
“Dunno.”
He grinned. “I probably had good reason,” he said, showing that he, at least, still trusted his future self.
I shrugged.
“What are you going to do now?�
�� he asked.
“Get lunch.”
“I meant with the robot.”
“Take it with me and ask it questions. There’s something very fishy going on.”
He nodded, then frowned. “You’re not going to eat bugs again, are you?”
“Um… Well, why not?” He looked sick so I laughed. “Or we could get a burger.”
He nodded.
“Yo, robot-thingy, where can I get a nice, fresh, barely-cooked burger?”
“Follow me,” he said and started to trundle off unsteadily down the corridor. I followed him and thought about how the robot’s gait could be improved. Then I noticed Rob wasn’t walking with me. I stopped and looked back. He was staring at me and the robot.
“You not coming?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m coming,” he said, jogging to catch up.
We were led to what looked for all the world like a kitsch 1950s diner. I guessed kitsch still sold in the future. I ordered myself a nice, big, bloody burger and a milkshake. Rob ordered a burger and chips and onion rings and a Coke float.
“What you been up to then, Clarke?” he asked me.
‘Um… Well, investigating the circumstances of your death.’
“Looking out of the window, lying on the floor.” I shrugged to indicate that part of the conversation was over. “You find anything interesting during your aimless wanderings?”
He shook his head. “Why were you lying on the floor? Don’t you have a bed?”
“What?”
“Why were you lying on the floor?”
I just stared at him.
‘I don’t know.’
“Er… I like it? There was a carpet? ’Cos it was there?”
He nodded at that and shovelled fries into his mouth.
“So Rob, you built this pretty ship, where would you put the science labs?”
“I don’t know.”
“And why is it full of fancy boutiques if it’s called Tortuga?”
“I don’t know.”
“The level we came in on, that looked piratey,” I mused.
Rob grinned. “Yeah, I didn’t see the six thousand prostitutes though.”
I laughed at that. “Well, we can ask the robot for directions to the red-light district if you want. I’m sure this thing has some hookers somewhere.”
“Oh, no, it’s OK, I’ll live.”
I frowned suddenly.
