Voyage

by E M Gale

  ‘No, you won’t. If Rob knows that vampires exist, which he does, why doesn’t he become one? Surely, realising the advantages, anyone would try to become a vampire? I would. Well… I kinda already did.’

  “What’s up?” he asked, noticing my frown.

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “Well, Clarke, you’ve read the historical records…”

  I eyed him narrowly.

  ‘What is he going to ask?’

  “I didn’t read much, I chickened out.”

  “Do you know why I build this ship?”

  “Ah, that.” I grinned.

  He leaned forward.

  “That I have no clue about.”

  He sighed and leaned back.

  “Robot-thingy, why’s he build the pretty ship?”

  “I don’t know.”

  ‘Huh. Ooo, I’ve thought of another one.’

  “Why does he build robots?”

  “I don’t know,” the robot said.

  “Oh, that’s obvious. Because it’s cool, of course,” said Rob with a grin. “I wonder how it’s put together.”

  He looked thoughtful, and then he flicked his eyes up at me.

  “Hey, Clarke…” He looked evasive for a moment. He opened his mouth, shut it again and then decided to speak anyway. “I’m going to read my papers,” he said, frowning, as if he expected me to tell him off, but it was Anna who was into that.

  ‘Oh. I see. Well, I can’t stop you.’

  “You have a copy, don’t you? You downloaded science papers from the library onto that notepad, right?” he asked.

  ‘Uh…’

  “Yes,” I said, and then I sighed a heartfelt sigh.

  ‘Oh, well. I guess they will find out about me then, and I’ll owe Cleckley five thousand pelfre. Maybe I should have bet a smaller amount. In some ways it might be nice if they know everything… But if Rob looks through the historical records, he’ll discover how he dies, or, more accurately, how the world thinks he dies.’

  “I want to read them,” he said.

  “Are you sure you want to know what will happen? It might not be something nice.”

  “Eh? I wasn’t going to read my biography. I want to read my papers.”

  ‘Oh, just the science papers? Well, it’d be cheating, but, then again, do I really care? Rob deserves to be called ’The Great Engineer’ for inventing a time machine to get hold of the papers he wrote, read them, and go back in time to ‘discover’ whatever it is that is in them.’

  “Uh… well, if you want,” I said.

  He looked surprised. “Oh. I thought that you wouldn’t let me.”

  “Yeah, no point really.”

  “Why?”

  I was incredulous. “Rob, we are sitting on your bloody spaceship, next to your bloody robot. Do you think I can stop you from asking him for a copy of your papers?”

  ‘In fact, thinking about it, has Rob asked the robot if his future self left him any messages?’

  “Oh, yeah,” said Rob.

  “Hey, robot-thingy–” I started.

  “My name is Igor. You should address questions to me as such,” said the robot, somehow combining pomposity with a monotonous voice.

  “Oh, don’t start that again, you didn’t mind earlier.”

  “You make everyone call you Clarke, why can’t I be called Igor?” Now he sounded petulant.

  “Because it’s a stupid name, that’s why.”

  “Clarke is a stupid name.”

  “And by the way, you’re not being very robotic at the moment. Your acting sucks.”

  “Igor,” interrupted Rob. “Did my future self leave me anything?”

  “Yes, Master.” The robot opened a compartment in his chest. I’d looked there, and I hadn’t seen any joins. The robot removed a cylindrical thing that looked like an electronic notepad and passed it to Rob. I tried to stop him closing the compartment, as I was curious. “Don’t touch, Clarke! You’ll break me!” said the robot. “And I might catch your fingers.”

  I stared at his expressionless face.

  ‘Why do I get the feeling he’s grinning? He isn’t, though.’

  “I still don’t believe you’re a robot,” I said suspiciously.

  “I am an AI. If an AI is intelligent enough to be mistaken for a human by someone, then it has passed the Turing test for intelligence.”

  Rob looked up suddenly.

  “That’s true. And since you seem convinced that my robot is a person using the robot as a mouthpiece, I think it’s passed the Turing test.”

  “Well… yes, but he acts like a far less intelligent robot some of the time. He goes from being autistic and egoless to arguing with me. He can be intelligent without arguing with me.” I eyed the robot out of the corner of my eye. His unblinking camera eyes were fixed on me. Just for a moment I could have sworn his eyebrows waggled. “It seems like a less intelligent robot that is occasionally taken over by another intelligence, who brought up the whole issue of the Turing test by himself just now, making conversation. But he pretended he didn’t understand what I was talking about earlier, and made me ask very specific questions to get an answer.” I frowned at the robot. “Well, OK,” I said to Rob, “maybe you are right and you will make an intelligent robot in the past, but he seems to have a personality.”

  Rob nodded.

  “He liked it when I called him nice, and he didn’t like it when I called him a tin can!”

  He laughed at that. “Maybe you should be nice to it.”

  “Ah”–I held up my index finger and grinned–“but he told me that he was a robot and I couldn’t charm him.”

  “You can be nice without being charming,” said Rob, distractedly. He had unrolled the notepad–it was a similar design to the ones I had picked up from the libraries–and he was looking down at it.

  “What reason is there to be nice if you’re not trying to charm someone?” I retorted. The robot laughed. Rob was ignoring me. He was avidly reading. I peered over his shoulder.

  ‘Yup, he’s reading his papers. Well, I am interested in how he built all this stuff, but I want to solve the mysteries of Tortuga first. Why didn’t Rob become a vampire? Is the robot really just an unconscious robot? Why did we steal the Icarus and fake Rob’s death? I doubt that will be in a scientific paper.’

  Rob was engrossed. The robot was looking at me for some reason. The robot did seem to like me, despite the fact that he kept answering back. I leaned back and frowned at Rob whilst he read.

  ‘Why does he not become a vampire? Or is the robot lying to me? But if Rob is a vampire, why would he not come and see me? I’m still not convinced that he wasn’t talking to me via the robot, but why would he do that? If he’s a vampire and still alive, that is. OK, maybe I don’t make into him a vampire, but it wouldn’t too be hard to find someone to do it. If vampires roll around in these clan things then surely any clan would want someone as bright as him in it?’

  ‘OK, time to approach this problem from a new angle. So… I should ask Rob, the one in my present, why he wouldn’t want to be a vampire. If he has no problem with it, then maybe there is a future version of Rob prancing around pretending to be Dracula. Of course, if he has a problem with vampirism, that doesn’t mean that he isn’t one. Anna didn’t seem too keen on the idea and I know that she becomes one.’

  “Rob!”

  “Yeah, sorry, what?”

  “Uh… Look… y’see…”

  ‘How to put this? How can I ask him without giving anything away?’

  “Um, you… er…” I trailed off; he wasn’t really listening.

  ‘Now where to start? I can’t just come out with ‘do you want to be a vampire’, can I?’

  Rob was reading again. The robot was looking at me, but I ignored him.

  “Ooh, look, I build a teleport drive!” Rob said, grinning at me.

  ‘That’s nice, Rob.’

  I frowned at him in concentration.

  ‘Surely, given how much he loves scienc
e, he would get over whatever hang-ups he might have about vampirism just to keep making cool machines, right?’

  He was still reading. I waved at him irritably. “Look, Rob, I think that… Hey, are you listening to me?”

  “Yes, Clarke, sorry,” he said, tearing his eyes from the notepad.

  “OK, well. It’s like this, um… kinda, you’re a great person, and I think that you might…”

  He was engrossed in the papers again.

  “Rob! This is important!”

  He looked up. “Sorry, Clarke.” He grinned at me. “It’s just this stuff is really amazing!”

  I nodded.

  “You should see how I solve the containment issue for the orcs’ teleportation field tech.”

  “Eh?”

  “Well, think about it, if you have a field that teleports everything within it, how do you stop it from teleporting the teleporter?”

  “Uh… make the field smaller than the teleporter? And build the teleporter out of something strong enough to contain a vacuum?”

  “Oh.” He looked disappointed. “How did you know that?”

  I grinned. “I’ve stood on one.”

  “Have you been teleported?”

  ‘Have I not told him that?’

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Cool. What’s it like?”

  I shrugged. “Uh… like elastic bands.”

  He looked confused at my description.

  “Like you’re stretched thin and then unstretched somewhere else.”

  He nodded at that and then looked back down at the paper.

  “So… Rob?”

  He didn’t even look up this time.

  ‘Oh, forget it.’

  I sighed.

  ‘His opinion on the matter now probably won’t count for anything anyway. If I did this test on Anna to see if she would become a vampire, I would be wrong since she detests the idea, but becomes one anyway.’

  I shook my head and sighed. He was so engrossed in his reading that he’d left his food to cool, forgotten. I snagged a handful of lukewarm chips.

  ‘Anyway… I need a break from this for now and I want my fifty thousand pelfre.’

  I liberated the money for my burger, laid it on the table and got up to go.

  “Where are you going?” asked the robot.

  I shrugged. “I gotta work.” I stood up. “Bye, Rob.”

  He grunted at me without looking up. So I walked out of the restaurant followed by the robot.

  “So robot-thingy, are your orders still to follow me?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  I shrugged. “First, can I ask you–the owner of the space station, does he care what sort of business people do here?”

  “Not really,” said the robot. “What business are you doing?”

  “Me? I’m just going for a drink.”

  We were riding the elevator down to the piratey part of the station, which seemed to be the levels closer to the docking bays. Just like most cities, I guessed, the dodgy bits were near the docks.

  “Hey, what do scourgy pirates think about robots such as yourself?”

  “Not much really,” the robot replied.

  “Will you behave yourself?”

  “What do you mean?”

  We were walking slowly through the pirate areas. I was keeping an eye out for people recognising me. It was difficult as I wanted to avoid any who wanted to kidnap me, but meet the one who had my fifty thousand pelfre.

  “I mean, you won’t arrest me or anyone I talk to?”

  “That’s not my job.”

  “You threatened to earlier,” I pointed out.

  “You were threatening to mutiny.”

  I blew the air out of my mouth in an annoyed fashion. “What if I’m planning to organise one?”

  The robot laughed. “Why would you? You’ve already stolen this ship once.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks and spun round to look at the robot. “What? You did not know that earlier! You said you didn’t know what I was talking about when I mentioned that!”

  “Hello, Clarke, how are you?” said the robot. Somehow its voice sounded more monotonous than before.

  I just stared at it in shock. “You,” I said, pointing at it, “are not a computer. I just refuse to believe it. You are a person, intermittently taking over a robot to make smart comments at me.”

  The robot said nothing.

  “Is that true, you stupid, trumped up pencil-sharpener?” I was incensed. The only metal thing I could think of at that moment that wasn’t a tin can was a pencil sharpener. I might have been annoyed and confused, but I didn’t want to use the same insult over and over again.

  “No. I am an AI,” said the robot extra-monotonously. I shook my head angrily.

  ‘Deliver the letter first, Clarke.’

  I sauntered through the pirate levels of the ship, getting a feel for the layout of them as well as making sure that people saw me. The robot followed along behind me, a clomping shadow with a mismatched gait. After I’d been seen, I went into a large, likely-looking dive bar called the Devonshire Arms. Inside the place was full of pirates, drinking, singing, gambling. It was an utter mess, beer and glass on the floor, the odd pirate asleep in a corner.

  I nodded at the barman and ordered one of the ales in a barrel with a handwritten sign: this wasn’t a place where I would trust the wine. I headed to the back of the bar, searching for a nice, dark, private-looking table or booth. I found one. There were two pirates in it, but, seeing me, they got up and left. I stood, stunned, looking at their retreating backs.

  ‘What was that about? Oh, well, I got me a table.’

  I climbed up, and, because it was that sort of a place, I put my feet up on the seat opposite. The robot clambered inelegantly onto a seat. There was still room for two or three more people to sit down.

  “Robot, if anyone comes to sit next to me, you mustn’t talk to them.”

  “Yes.”

  I took a sip of the beer.

  ‘Oh, that’s rough. Highly alcoholic, but rough.’

  I took another sip.

  ‘Yup, the taste improves once the alcohol hits your system.’

  “And you do know that your smart comments keep giving you away? I know you’re a person,” I said.

  ‘I still think you’re Rob. But… I’m not sure, yet.’

  “I am an AI,” said the robot. “Nothing more, nothing less.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Why were you walking around? Why not just come here in the first instance if you wanted a beer?”

  “I was making sure that I was seen.”

  I glared at a few pirates who were eyeing me up across the room. They got the message; now was not the time to play with pirates.

  “Why?”

  “So people know I’m here.”

  “But… isn’t that dangerous?”

  “Yup!” I grinned.

  The robot was quiet for a moment.

  “Clarke, what were you trying to ask Rob?”

  ‘Eh?’

  “What, earlier?” I queried.

  “Yes, when he was reading his papers, what were you trying to say to him?”

  ‘Hmm? Why does he want to know?’

  “Oh, nothing,” I said, eying the robot suspiciously.

  “Tell me. Please.” Somehow he sounded desperate.

  I gave him an odd look. “Why? What do you think I was trying to say to him? And why do you want to know?” I asked, my brows drawn down.

  The robot said nothing. Well, I could handle silence, so I sat there in silence.

  Then I saw the back of a Kreegle as he headed into the bar. He was dressed in grubby green combat-style trousers, a cerise long-sleeved shirt and an overshirt in black with purple Chinese dragons on it, of all things. Not the world’s best combination, but then I wouldn’t win any prizes for the best-dressed pirate. Like me, he was also wearing visible and concealed weapons; I noticed the outline of a knife and a gun as he moved in addition to the overtly
worn sword and gun combination. He paused to talk to the barman, who nodded his head in my direction. The Kreegle turned around.

  ‘What the…?’

  My contact, since I was pretty sure that was who it was, was Kujjie’s annoying accomplice, Bec Ku. He grinned at me as he walked up. I waited while he clambered up onto the seat opposite me. They were quite high, presumably to accommodate orcs comfortably, so he looked rather small against them.

  ‘Why on earth is he picking up a message when he was there when I got it?’

  “What’s with the metal-head?” he asked, jerking a thumb at the robot.

  “My toy.”

  “Doesn’t it belong to the guy who owns this joint?” He waved his hand around, indicating that he was talking about the whole station, not the crumbly dive.

  “Nah, it’s mine now.”

  The robot was looking at me now.

  “Y’know, there are several people who would be interested in that, if you’re looking to sell,” Bec Ku said, looking at the robot.

  “Sorry, no can do,” I said. He nodded regretfully. I wondered how much Rob’s robot was worth. Surely he wasn’t the only person to have built robots, but then again, maybe it was still a good engineering solution. Even if the robot did walk funny.

  I frowned at him.

  “Well, Clarke, I believe that you have something for me.”

  “Well…” I smiled.

  ‘Surely you already know what was in the letter? What the hell did I just smuggle? And why couldn’t you just carry it onto the station yourself?’

  “I have something for someone. If you’re lucky, it could be you.”

  He smiled back and removed an envelope from a pocket and tossed it over at me. He didn’t move or reach for a weapon or anything so I picked it up, opened it and flicked through the notes quickly. It looked like about the right amount, but that was not the time to count it.

  ‘To ask or not to ask what I smuggled? I reckon just leave it. No criminal wants to answer questions about their schemes. Best not to be too curious.’

  I pocketed the cash and removed Kujjie’s letter and passed it to my guest, not taking my eyes off him. He looked in the envelope, but hid the contents from me and the robot. He grinned at me.

  “Well, now that’s done, Kuj Kuz-aj sends his regards.”

  “Aw, that’s nice, give Kujjie my regards too.”

  Bec Ku laughed at that. “So which rumour sent more?”