Hotel Andromeda

by Edited by Jack L. Chalker

  “This kind of action will allow me to hold your contract forever.”

  “That gives me a lot of incentive to work harder,” she said, and pushed her way into the hall. The air felt cooler there. She strode toward the lobby, not looking back. She had no plan, no idea in mind. She just had to walk.

  It wasn’t until she stopped in front of the Minaran that she realized she had had a plan after all. It swam up to her, examined her for a moment, then swam away and climbed up on the rocks, its back to her. She wanted to tell it she knew how it felt, trapped in there, on display, with no one to love it, no one to hold it, no one to understand its dreams—and its nightmares.

  “Pretty, isn’t it?”

  The voice was soft, deep and human. Beth turned and looked up into the face of an older woman. Her hair had been painted in small geometric squares of black and silver, and her skin in complementary shades of brown and cream. She wore a rich purple dress that accented the bizarre geometry that some thought fashion.

  “You brought it here.” Beth made herself look away. The Minaran had hunched into itself, as if it were frightened of the woman.

  Assumptions. Human assumptions. Something the hotel warned them never to make.

  “I figured this would be a good place to find it a home.” Her voice had the warmth of an Amphib sauna, but her silvery eyes glistened with chill. Beth saw, over the woman’s shoulder, Roddy gesturing at her frantically. She ignored him.

  “Wasn’t it at home on Minar?”

  The woman laughed. “So sweet and amusing.” She tucked a strand of hair behind Beth’s ear. Beth shuddered. “I thought you were the one that liked touch.”

  Beth stiffened. This was a guest. She couldn’t contradict a guest. “I’m off duty,” she said.

  The woman’s eyes twinkled for the first time. “I thought staff never went off duty.” Her smile grew wider. “Would you like to please my little Minaran there? It looks quite lonely.”

  Inside the cage? Trapped behind invisible walls? Beth pushed away, trying not to be rude, but her entire body had started to shake. She bobbed her head once, and walked away, turning her back on Roddy, whose face had turned purple with anger.

  V

  In her dream, she dived into the Minaran’s tank. The water was cool against her skin. The creature rubbed its furry face against her breasts, seeking comfort, seeking milk. She pushed it away. She wanted friendship, but not touch.

  She hated touch.

  She swam underwater to the rock in the center of the pool. Then her fingers gripped the hard surface and she pulled herself up. Artificial sunlight caressed her body, warmed her, comforted her as she hadn’t been comforted since she left Bountiful.

  Except for John. Hands tentative, gaze soft. They hadn’t known what they were doing. But the Lunar Base psychological staff had. They burst into the room, pulled two lonely teenagers apart and kept them separate forever. Since then, she had never touched another human being in love.

  The Minaran pushed its face against her arm. Its muzzle was wet, brown eyes liquid. It chirped at her, then dived back under the water. When it rose again, it was on the other side of the rock. Its loneliness radiated from it. The round eyes looked sad.

  She rolled over on her stomach, covering herself as best she could. The Minaran used its fins to pull itself on the rock and cuddle next to her. She tried to push it away—it was too human, too cute. She didn’t want touch, didn’t want touch, didn’t want—

  Beth woke up, heart pounding, skin crawling. She put her head between her knees, made herself take deep breaths. Ever since she saw the Minaran, the nightmares were coming thick and fast. Opening a little door that would best remain closed.

  Trapped. The little creature was trapped. No being deserved to be imprisoned, bartered, and sold. No being. No one. Not even her.

  She eased the bed toward the ground so that she could climb off. Then she stood barefoot on the cold floor, hugging herself as she stared at the four bare walls surrounding her.

  VI

  The next morning, she made her way into the docks. Willis was there, working in a small cubicle, head bent over a small screen. When he saw her, he grinned and waved. She made herself wave back.

  “Going to take me up on it?” he asked, voice jaunty, eyes filled with too much hope.

  Beth made the smile stay on her face. “Someday,” she said. Usually she felt nothing when she spoke to him. This morning she felt a bit sad.

  The large docking bay was over cool. Goose bumps rose on her arms. Marks from hundreds of shuttles covered the floor, and the bay doors had dents in them from accidents missing the path. Through the double protection windows, she could see a dozen ships orbiting around the hotel.

  “Knew it wasn’t my charm,” he said, careful not to touch her. Willis had tried to touch her once years ago, and she had screamed so loudly that Security arrived. They both got demerits for that incident. “What can I do for you?”

  “Your office,” she said, and made herself put her hand on the small of his back. His face flushed, but he still didn’t touch her back. He had offered to buy her contract from the hotel, indenture her to him, and then throw the contract away once they were in space—no strings. Only they both knew that he wanted her love forever, and she had no love to give.

  A soft female voice echoed in the bay. “Next arrival in thirty-six minutes. Next arrival…”

  Willis closed the door on the sound. Beth reached up and shut off the interhotel com. Willis’s flush left his skin and he tamped back something, probably willing his net to stop monitoring the conversation.

  She hoped it worked. His net was twenty times more sophisticated than hers.

  “Can you get a message off the hotel for me?” she asked.

  He started, then sat down. “I didn’t know you knew anyone away from here.”

  She shrugged, unwilling to implicate him more than she had to. She handed him a small chip encased in plastic. It had taken her more than two hours to put the package together and to hide her steps. “Instructions are on here,” she said. “Could you do it once you’re out of hotel range?”

  “Not leaving with me?” he asked, a little too seriously.

  “After this,” she said, “I’m probably not leaving at all.”

  VII

  Every morning after that, she stood at the edge of the lobby, watching the Minaran swim. Its fur had grown coarser, and its eyes less bright. Its energy was flagging, and she began to wonder if she had taken action in time.

  Sometimes, as she stood there, Candice came up beside her and stood, too. They never spoke, but Beth felt as if Candice wanted her to say something, to reconsider her decision. Roddy would catch Beth standing there and a few minutes later her net would beep, summoning her to darker and smellier parts of the hotel. She went, but came to herself with unusual bruises and once, a limp on her left side.

  And she didn’t see the woman again, not until the day the Intergalactic Police showed up at the hotel. They had used the Security entrance, and tripped no alarms, used no buzzers. One minute the lobby was empty, the next it swarmed with uniformed creatures—most investigating the cubicle holding the Minaran.

  Beth inched her way into the lobby and stood off to one side, knowing that she looked shoddy and hurt. Roddy was nowhere around, but Candice buzzed into the room, all efficiency and smiles. Only her shaking hands betrayed her fears.

  “Officers?” Candice said, her voice carrying, warning the staff to keep the guests away.

  A burly man grabbed a computer clip from a four-armed humanoid and approached Candice. “Ma’am. I need to see the manager on duty or the highest person in charge of the hotel.”

  “Right now, that’s me,” she said. “The others are sleeping or attending a conference off surface. Would you like me to contact—”

  “No.” His voice boomed in the small area. The Minaran had stopped swimming, and had retreated to its rock. Beth wished she could do the same. “I came to inform you that you
and your hotel are in violation of Galactic Code 1.675: kidnapping, imprisonment, and trafficking of an endangered species.”

  “The Minaran?” Candice asked. She turned toward the cubicle. Beth could see her struggle for control.

  “We’re also looking for a human, Candice Arrowsmith.”

  Candice straightened. “I’m Candice Arrowsmith.”

  “Then you shouldn’t look so shocked, Ms. Arrowsmith. You will receive a commendation from Galactic Services for risking your job and contacting us. The Minaran will be returned to its rightful home, and the guilty parties will stand trial for this.”

  Candice’s gaze caught Beth’s. She opened her mouth as if to speak to Beth. but then another officer called her away.

  Beth watched for another moment, saluting the little Minaran mentally. “At least,” she whispered, “one of us is free.”

  VIII

  The Intergalactic Police took only three hours to remove the Minaran and clear the lobby. Hotel workers dismantled the cubicle, and by afternoon, the space housed a banquet room again. Beth watched through a double-paned window as a shuttle took the woman who had kidnapped the Minaran away.

  Maybe the little creature would go back to its family. Maybe it would find someone to love it, to hold it, to give it the comfort it needed…

  A hand touched her shoulder. Beth jumped. She turned and saw Candice standing behind her, face ashen and worn with the stress of the day.

  “My office,” Candice said quietly.

  Beth followed her in there. The normally neat office had papers strewn about Screens on all four walls bunked with waiting messages. In addition to the strain of talking with the officers, Candice’s neural net was probably going crazy—she had all her superiors to answer to.

  She closed the office door and slumped in her chair. Beth remained standing. She didn’t know what Candice could do, but she would do something. Still, out there, the little Minaran was going home.

  “I saw your face when they came in,” Candice said. “What were you thinking?”

  Beth knew better than to play dumb. She knew about the other things they had installed in her net, in the pain centers, things they promised to remove when her contract was up. “I knew they wouldn’t believe me, even with all the evidence in front of them. That woman was rich, wasn’t she? Rich enough to have the entire hotel at her feet.”

  “So you used my name.”

  Beth shrugged. “I figured you’d get in trouble otherwise, if someone else reported the violation. This is the first time I’ve ever seen the hotel party to such a big crime.”

  “And you have the right to place a moral judgment on the rest of us? Did this come from your experience on the penal ship?” Candice didn’t move, but her words had the force of blows. Beth resisted the urge to duck.

  “I know what it’s like to be trapped, with no escape,” Beth said. “Like that Minaran. There’s no worse thing in the world.”

  Candice remained quiet for a long time, refusing to meet Beth’s gaze. Beth continued to stand, unmoving, until Candice signaled that it was all right.

  “You know I can never offer you a position of authority here again,” Candice said.

  Beth nodded. “I could never exercise authority,” she said. She wouldn’t punish or she would be too harsh. She would run in fear of some creatures and worship others. And she would never, ever, allow a creature to imprison another, no matter how much money was involved.

  Candice sighed. “Leave me now,” she said. “I have a mess to clean up.”

  IX

  Beth spent the next three days in her room, leaving only to eat. She received no summons from Roddy, no word from Candice. The other staff would not speak to her, and even the robotic units kept their distance. If Candice had wanted a way to punish Beth, this was it.

  Finally, someone knocked on her door. Beth grabbed a robe, and sent her bed up to the center of the room. Then she let the door slide open. Willis was there, bouncing from foot to foot, slapping papers against his hand.

  “Orders from above,” he said. “You’re supposed to come with me.”

  Beth stared at him for a moment, heart hammering. The last time, they had dragged her away from John, still naked, kicking and screaming. The time before that, they had taken her off the planet with the other children, promising them that they would be taken care of. They were taken care of, all right. Analyzed, tried, viewed galaxy-wide, then sent on separate penal ships to parts unknown.

  She hadn’t done anything illegal. The hotel had no right to send her away.

  “Get dressed,” he said, “and pack up. It’s okay. I’ll turn my back.”

  His smile faded as she still refused to move. “It’s okay,” he repeated. “They’re setting you free.”

  He handed her the papers, and she saw her name all over them, with “completed” stamped across the pages. She separated them out, ran her fingers across them, wondering, wishing, it was all true.

  “You need a proper net,” he said. “If you had a proper net, you wouldn’t have to look through the documentation. We’ll see what we can do once we’re away from the hotel. We got to remove those pain receptors, anyway. Now get dressed.”

  He stepped outside and let the door close, true to his word. She packed numbly, touching the papers from time to time, feeling her hands shake.

  When they had let her out of solitary—late one night when the other prisoners were asleep—she had refused to crawl out of her corner. She believed that once she put a foot on the real floor, the guards would beat her for trying to escape. She believed she wasn’t worthy of emerging. She believed she could live nowhere else than that clear plastic hole.

  She glanced at the bed, at the empty walls, at the room that had been her prison since she arrived at the hotel. “I didn’t do it for me,” she whispered, knowing Candice couldn’t hear her.

  But Candice didn’t have to hear. She knew. She spent her life in the job she had offered to Beth, reading aliens, understanding their needs, pleasing guests and making sure that even unspoken wishes were granted. The one time she had made a mistake—allowing that woman in with her Minaran prisoner to broker a sale—she had received an out. Beth had saved her. Beth had freed the Minaran.

  She took one small case, and kept her papers clutched in her hand. Then she slid the door open.

  Willis was still there, back to the door, shifting from foot to foot.

  “Where’re we going?” Beth asked, the words almost sticking in her throat. She remembered the feeling of near-surface panic, and had to prevent herself from searching for guards.

  He smiled and took the bag from her. “Wherever the lady wants.”

  Wherever she wanted. The concept was beyond her. Once she had had dreams of seeing other places, other lives. But she had left those dreams on Bountiful, with the Dancers. Since den she had wanted nothing but to be left alone.

  “Don’t worry,” Willis said quietly. “You’ll think of someplace you want to be.”

  And for the first time since she arrived at the hotel, she favored someone with a real, heartfelt smile. Willis flushed, and started down the hall, keeping his physical distance, saying nothing, but walking beside her in companionable silence.

  Anyplace she wanted. Thank you, Candice, she thought, and wished that she had a functioning net so that she could send a true message. But Candice wouldn’t want to hear. She wanted Beth to disappear in the chaos following the arrival of the Intergalactic Police. She wanted Beth gone so the incident would blow over and go away.

  Beth gave a little skip. Anyplace she wanted. She gazed out of one of the hall portals at the darkness of space, a view she used to ignore. Anyplace she wanted. Or no place at all.

  “I’m joining you, little guy,” she whispered to the Minaran.

  “We’re free.”

  Face Time

  Janet Kagan

  “Time and a half, Gemmy,” said Ferrus. “And maybe you’ll get your mug in the newsgrams.” The tentacles surro
unding his eating orifice were rigid, so Gemmy knew he was stressed out. “Please, I need you! You’ve got a lot of experience with Terrans.”

  “Sure,” said Gemmy. “But you said this is all about a Mopelling delegation.... I don’t know the first damn thing about serving drinks to Mopellings.”

  Ferrus drooped an eyestalk. “Who does? They just made contact about five years ago. As I hear it, it took the Terrans a full year to explain to them what a diplomatic delegation was and another two years to explain why they should send one to Terra.” The other eyestalk stiffened, to focus its brilliant vermilion pupil straight at Gemmy’s navel; that was a bad habit of Ferrus’s. “So nobody but nobody knows the proper way to serve drinks to a Mopelling but, by Itchy Palms, I intend to give the Terran reception committee the proper treatment.”

  He brought the other eyestalk to the level of the first. “Double time,” he said.

  The offer of extra money wasn’t what convinced Gemmy. What convinced Gemmy was that Ferrus always looked him in the navel. Only Balanced Plates, the patron saint of waiters, knew why. But if Ferrus eyestalked some Terran female’s navel that way, the Bulbous Beet Bar would be under new management within a Lemptak year—about ten Terran days.

  So Gemmy’d said yes and, consequently, he was already serving drinks and reading up on what little was known about the Mopellings when the Terran with the toy rabbits came in. It wasn’t the rabbits that caught Gemmy’s attention first; it was the Terran himself.

  His smeller looked familiar. Perhaps the man had stayed at Hotel Andromeda once before? Gemmy’d gotten quite good at Terran faces: you had to look at the bitty tufts of hair, that helped (when they didn’t change them often on you), and you had to took at the smellers. This one had a very familiar-looking smeller. For guests who stayed at the Hotel Andromeda frequently, Gemmy could often match the smeller to the favorite drink and offer it before they asked—the trick got him a lot of big tips. But he couldn’t place this one.