Journey to Xanadu

Journey to Xanadu

By Sarah McEvoy

Copyright 2012 Sarah McEvoy

Smashwords Edition

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To the memory of Isaac Asimov, who first taught me to love robots.

Chapter One

The late afternoon sunshine glittered through thousands of triangular glass panes, reflecting brightly off the polished railings of the upper level and dully from the grit-scarred hulls on the ground below. From where Akira Sengupta stood, leaning over the railings, a little crawler robot could be seen in silhouette, blocking out the direct light of the sun. It was peeling off worn pieces of clear dust film from the panes and replacing them carefully with new ones. Akira watched it for a moment or two, then looked downwards among the ships for the unfortunately named Waltzing Matilda. It ought to be somewhere down there.

It was. That had to be it, the old bucket in bay 11. It was the sort of small cargo ship favoured by scrap traders, asteroid miners and the like; but, very unusually for that type of ship, there was a navy-clad android robot supervising the standard safety checks, which were being carried out in the usual way by crawlers belonging to the spaceport. The Matilda’s owner was a scrap trader by the name of Arthur More, and if he could afford a robot like that, he was clearly good at his job.

Where, though, was Mr Arthur himself? Probably still up here stocking up on supplies, or simply stretching his legs and then enjoying a hearty Martian meal before taking off again. Akira looked around in the hope of spotting him, but could see nobody remotely resembling his photograph. Talking to that android would be the best hope of finding him quickly, but sadly the android showed no signs of being about to leave the ship. Getting clearance to go down into the bay area and wander round would be possible, but conspicuous. Being recognised as a Martian government agent was really not on Akira’s agenda.

The illuminated boards changed over. There it was, in the 17.20 hours slot. "Dep: Waltzing Matilda, 11, Titan. Arr: Doge of Venice, 27, Ganymede." Someone in the flight control office would be paging Arthur More right now to ensure that he was aware of his departure time. That gave Akira about an hour in which to act.

The first move was to order provisions for the journey and arrange for them to be delivered to the Matilda at 17.00 hours sharp, by which time, with reasonable luck, passage would be sorted out. By this time, the safety checks had been completed and the android was finally heading up one of the escalators to the upper level. Akira intercepted it at the top.

The android paused in its tracks and sized up Akira. "Good afternoon, san," it said politely.

Good afternoon. Akira was quite happy to be polite to robots, figuring that at least some of them were probably advanced enough to have feelings. I am Lucky Kapoor. Am I right in thinking that you are Arthur More’s assistant?

You are correct. Do you wish to speak to him?

As soon as possible, yes.

I will take you to him. My name is Devereux.

Pleased to meet you, Devereux. Akira dodged a squat cargo-bot hauling a laden trolley towards the main lifts. May I ask if you were built on Titan?

I was. The robot’s voice remained neutral, but nonetheless it somehow gave the impression of sounding pleased at the correct guess. I am a Chang TCX-15 with state of the art neural feedback capacity. My piloting skills are entirely the result of training, rather than programming.

Impressive! said Akira. Android assistants, though expensive, were not rare on Mars, but most of them had only basic learning capabilities and needed additional software modules to suit them for a particular task. The briefing notes provided for this mission had been silent on exactly how someone like Arthur More had managed to acquire a superb piece of technology like this one. It was true that he went to Titan a lot, and this was naturally the cheapest place to acquire a first-rate Titanian robot, but even so… well, Devereux was probably worth about three times the value of the Matilda. The whole thing was odd, to say the least.

Still, if there was one thing Akira was good at, it was finding things out. This particular little mystery would make an interesting hors-d’oeuvre to… well, the big mystery. The one that was quite possibly going to involve an awful lot of trouble on Titan.

Mr Arthur turned out to be sitting in one of the innumerable restaurants on the upper level, just finishing off a plate of some kind of elaborate fruit dessert. He was, at a guess, somewhere in his late forties or early fifties, with brown hair that was greying from the temples and an affable face that looked like a very much-loved old-fashioned paper map. He had the tall, rangy build of a second- or third-generation off-Earther, and he wore a tight wine-coloured shirt with a concealed zip front and the exaggerated padded shoulders which were so popular on Mars at the moment. As Devereux approached with Akira, he looked up with interest.

"Hallo, san, he said cheerfully. How can I help?"

Good afternoon, sir, replied Akira politely. "You are Mr Arthur More, captain of the Waltzing Matilda?"

I am, and proud to be. Akira was trying to place his accent as he spoke. It was mostly Martian, but there was something else in it as well; quite likely Titanian, although it was impossible to be certain. Not many Titanians made the journey to Mars. Only a few could be seen around the spaceport, immediately distinguishable by their brightly coloured clothing.

My name is Lucky Kapoor, explained Akira. I’m a private detective. I have my own supplies, so I wouldn’t be troubling you for those. I’d like to know how much you would charge to take me to Titan.

Arthur put his head on one side. Weeeeeelllll, he said slowly. You’re on an expense account, I suppose?

Akira grinned. Naturally.

And I suppose the reason you’re asking me rather than travelling on a passenger ship is that you need to get there as fast as possible, rather than stopping at every moon of Jupiter on the way?

Of course. Akira paused. I have information that suggests you might have done this kind of thing before.

And I expect you’ve got other information too. Arthur seemed to find this idea more amusing than threatening. Don’t worry. You’re not going to need to try to prove it. I’ll take you as long as you can pay. Seven thousand credits to you, since you’ve got a pretty… er… handsome?... face. Dammit. Sorry.

I don’t mind either, replied Akira, with a smile. And if you need a pronoun, it’s ‘ze’.

Arthur smiled back. I did know that much. I’ve got friends who are neutrois.

That immediately made things easier. Akira was biologically female, but had identified as neutrois from an early age, and consequently dressed in the style generally associated with the neutrois community on Mars; at this moment, ze was wearing a loose knee-length tunic in a light sage green over a pair of matching trousers. Both garments were decorated with discreet quantities of woven trim in white and silver. It was common, but not universal, for neutrois people to have surgery to de-gender their bodies. Akira had never done this, since ze had a fairly androgynous figure in any case. This had turned out to be useful; working as a government agent occasionally required a disguise, and so it helped to be able to pass as female when something of the sort was needed.

Seven thousand credits it is, declared Akira, who had actually been expecting him to charge rather more than that. Perhaps Arthur made more of a habit of carrying passengers than even the Martian government was aware. That might help to explain the presence of Devereux..

Sweet. Arthur pulled out his computer and set it to transaction mode. There you go.

Akira entered the code for the government expense account ze had been allocated, then the amount, and then a brief note reading Travel: Mars to Titan. Arthur waited for confirmation that the money had gone through to his account, then nodded. OK! You got luggage?

A little, replied Akira. Nothing that’ll get in your way. There’s a robot bringing it. There’s also a robot coming down with the supplies I ordered earlier.

Efficient. Right, Devereux. Everything good down there?

Yes, sir. The safety checks were very satisfactory. I have no specific maintenance issues to report concerning the ship.

That’s always a relief to know. Now, before I go back down there I am going to have a coffee, pay my bill, and get some frozen stuff sent down to the ship. Devereux, I want you to take Lucky-san down to the ship, get hir settled in, and direct those robots ze just mentioned when they come down to load the stuff on board. Lucky-san, is there anything you need that you’ve forgotten?

I don’t think so, Mr Arthur, replied Akira, but it’s kind of you to ask.

Akira followed the android back down the escalator. That had gone as well as predicted, and Arthur definitely looked as though he was going to be pleasant enough company for the voyage. Not all regular spacers were, especially not the ones who ran their own ship alone; but this one seemed to be glad of a companion.

Assuming that the Matilda did not stop for any salvage along the way, the journey could be expected to take about six to seven weeks. Travel through the solar system had been speeded up enormously with the construction of the wormholes, which were gravitationally anchored at each end to their respective planets to enable a ship to pass rapidly between any two adjacent planets no matter where they were in their orbits. However, the ends of the wormholes had to be far enough away from the planets to avoid any risk of a satellite or a piece of space scrap accidentally going through the wormhole, and – especially in the case of Jupiter and Saturn – that meant quite a long way out. It was only about three days’ journey from Mars to the Galileo wormhole, which would take them into the region of Jupiter, but from there it was nearly a month across the Jovian minisystem to get to Herschel, which went to Saturn, and then another two to three weeks to reach Titan, depending on exactly where it was in its orbit at the time.

Devereux courteously showed Akira on board. The Matilda might have looked rather battered on the outside, but inside it was well-kept and comfortable. There were no great trappings of luxury about it, but nor was it the sort of dingy, cramped vessel commonly associated with scrap traders and their ilk. The command room was also the general living space; one wall at the front held all the instruments and displays, and there was a pilot’s swivel chair bolted firmly to the floor allowing everything to be reached easily. Behind that chair, however, was an adjustable table with a sofa-bench along the two longer sides and a chair at each end, and there was a screen with speakers opposite one of the benches which really did not look like part of the ship’s navigational equipment. There were clear-fronted cupboards along the other wall full of book, film and music cartridges. The android led Akira down the narrow central corridor towards the back of the ship, and opened a door on the left-hand side.

This is your cabin, it announced.

It was a great deal better than Akira had expected. Admittedly it was small, but then there was hardly going to be room for much sleeping accommodation on a ship this size. But it had a false window with the option to look at either the view outside or a selection of recorded scenes, and there was a lot of storage space built ingeniously above and below the bed. This provided comfortable room for a desk and chair; above the desk was a mirror with a light strip running across the top, so that the desk could double as a dressing table if required. A narrow door behind the head of the bed led into a tiny room with a fold-up toilet and sonic shower. Real baths, or even real showers, were not to be had in space except on private yachts and the most luxurious of cruise liners, but a sonic one would at least allow you to keep clean for as long as it took to get from A to B.

Thank you, Devereux, said Akira. It looks very cosy. May I see the rest of the ship?

"Of course you may, san. The cabin opposite this one is Mr Arthur’s, so we will not look in there, but I will show you everything else."

Next to Akira’s cabin was the galley and food stores. Food storage space on ships was normally as generous as possible, given that accidents and delays could happen and so a margin for caution was needed. This ship was certainly no exception. Akira estimated it could hold enough food for two people for at least six months. It was by no means full, but then Mr Arthur had said he was having some more frozen food sent down. Barring serious misfortune, they would not starve.

The engine room was opposite the galley. This was a typical off-Earth ship in that it was entirely solar-powered; none of the colony worlds required the powerful jet engines needed to blast off from Earth. The energy storage cells took up more room than the engine did. Except when actually accelerating out of a gravitational field, which took a lot of energy, a solar ship in space made a net energy profit, and that had to be stored somewhere until it was needed. Of course, it could not be stored indefinitely as the cells tended to leak power slowly over time, which was why no ship would ever spend too long on Titan. So little sunlight made its way through the dense atmosphere of that world that a ship remaining there for more than a few weeks might find itself grounded.

Finally, at the rear of the ship, a flight of stairs led down to the upper hold. This hold was pressurised and currently almost empty, apart from a couple of space suits, some oxygen cylinders, and a large trunk with the universal green cross indicating medical supplies. At the far end, the front of the ship, there was an airlocked lift which allowed emergency access to the unpressurised lower hold. An indicator light showed that at this moment the external doors to the lower hold were open. Devereux seemed surprised, as far as that was possible for a robot.

I thought they had been closed when we finished unloading, it said. Please excuse me. I had better go out and find out what is happening.

Shall I come with you? asked Akira. My luggage and supplies should be here any moment.

"If you wish, san," replied Devereux.

Akira followed the android back up the stairs, out of the ship, and down the folding steps to ground level. The luggage and supplies were indeed arriving, as was a trolley full of pallets which was presumably Mr Arthur’s frozen food, and the usual swarm of robots was milling around. However, there was also a police officer hurrying up to the ship with a stern expression on her face.

Where is Mr Arthur More? she demanded.

Devereux began to speak. Akira waved it urgently into silence. Mr Arthur is attending to some last-minute preparations before take-off, ze replied. I can answer for him.

"But, san…" said Devereux.

Devereux, please do what Mr Arthur asked of you and supervise the loading, said Akira calmly. I will speak to the officer. There will not be a problem.

The officer looked even more suspicious. "And who exactly are you, san? We have no record of any other crew members on the Matilda."

My name is Lucky Kapoor, ma’am. Akira stepped closer to the officer, out of earshot of the android, and lowered her voice. Except it isn’t. See?

The officer looked down at the screen of Akira’s computer. You couldn’t fake a government ID. Her eyes widened. Ah, she managed.

What do you want him for? Akira asked, in the same low voice.

Smuggling.

Smuggling anything in particular?

"Drugs, san."

How much evidence have you got? asked Akira.

Nothing concrete, the officer admitted, but there have been enough… coincidences, shall we say, in the outer worlds… for us to want to talk to him. And the fact that he put his departure forward is suspicious in itself. Originally he was meant to be leaving the planet tomorrow morning. We only just found out in time for me to get down here.

We know that, Akira assured her. There are plenty of things that don’t quite add up about our Mr Arthur, most of all how he managed to get his hands on that magnificent droid. However, I need him to get to Titan. This also, of course, means I will be around to keep an eye on him for the next few weeks.

The officer nodded slowly. "I see, san. Yes, that might be a better way of doing things all round."

I thought you might see it like that, ma’am, said Akira, with a brilliant smile.

Arthur chose this moment to stride into view. Just before he came into earshot, Akira asked, One more question. The robot was surprised that the hold doors were open. Did you happen to see anyone open them, or were they open when you first saw the ship?

The officer frowned. "They must have been open all the time, san. I was looking at the ship. I would have noticed if someone had opened the hold doors."

Well, now! exclaimed Arthur. What’s going on here? The law? Can I help you, ma’am?

We were just wondering how your hold doors came to be open, Mr Arthur, replied Akira, with absolute truthfulness. Devereux was showing me round the ship, and when we went into the upper hold we noticed that the indicator light was on, so we went down to investigate. I’m certain they weren’t open half an hour ago.

Arthur frowned. They shouldn’t be open, he said, categorically. I shut and locked them as soon as I’d got all the cargo off. I always do. I never pick up deep-hold cargo on planet.

Could I have a look round your hold, sir? asked the officer.

Of course! Be my guest, ma’am. Arthur waved a long arm expansively. Devereux! Have you finished the loading?

Devereux popped its head out from the entrance hatch. Yes, sir!

Good. Can you come down here? I could do with you to inspect the hold lift.

Devereux obediently made its way down to join the others in the lower hold, where Mr Arthur was staring hard at the lock and the police officer was discreetly checking round with a sniffer rod. Akira, meanwhile, was propped up thoughtfully against a wall conduit, trying to piece things together mentally. The android went up to the lift and examined it.

This hasn’t been used recently, sir, it said. If anyone entered the lower hold, they did not attempt to get through to the upper hold.

"Anyone or anything, Devereux, Arthur corrected. Could have been a robot. In fact, if the lock was picked, that’s more than likely."

Yes, sir, replied Devereux neutrally.

The police officer, having clearly found nothing with the sniffer rod, joined Mr Arthur in examining the lock. No signs of force, she said, puzzled.

That’s what I’m thinking, said Arthur.

Is it coded to anyone else apart from you?

No, ma’am. It recognises my palm print and that’s it. There is only one other way to open it, but you’d have to get Devereux to co-operate, and it’s obvious they didn’t do that.

Please explain, said the officer.

There is an emergency code. It works for all the doors on the ship. It’s programmed into Devereux, rather than something it was taught, so it has no conscious awareness of knowing the code. But if you give Devereux the correct phrase, it will recite the code automatically.

That must be weird for Devereux, observed Akira, sympathetically.

Don’t know about weird, Lucky-san. It’s a machine, after all, replied Arthur. It’s a back-up. The problem with palm-operated locks is that if there’s ever some emergency which means you’ve got to work them wearing a space suit… well, you can’t. So there’s Devereux.

And who programmed that code into Devereux? asked the officer.

A robotician on Titan, Arthur replied.

H’mm. Well, it does appear that someone must have used the code, and without reference to your android, said the officer.

I’m not disputing that, replied Arthur, but why? There was nothing in the hold. Nobody’s attempted to stow away, because they couldn’t get up to the habitable part of the ship without using the lift, and Devereux is clear it hasn’t been used. Nothing appears to have been left on the ship. It makes no sense.

Presumably the spaceport will have a video record? suggested Akira.

The officer nodded. Yes. I’ll check that. It’s about all I can do…

A melodious jingle from Arthur’s computer cut her off. Arthur picked it up and hit a key. A voice from the computer instructed, Please board your ship immediately and ensure that any persons or robots not belonging to your crew leave the ship now. Your departure slot will be open in ten minutes.

Roger, replied Arthur. Sorry, ma’am. Going to have to wind this up. Can you send a message shipboard to tell me what happened with the video? I’d like to get to the bottom of this one. Oh, and credit to you for turning up so fast. I’m impressed.

I will, provided we have some information for you before you get to Galileo, replied the officer. Safe flight, sir.

She left hastily. Arthur sent Devereux up to unlock the hatch again, motioning Akira to stay behind while he locked up the lower hold. As they walked back towards the hatch, he observed, I don’t know what you did there, but I think I owe you.

Akira shrugged. Maybe. We can talk about that on board. Unless you would really rather not in front of Devereux.

What Devereux doesn’t know, it can’t tell, Arthur pointed out.

Same goes for anyone, replied Akira, but I personally have hir down as being very loyal to you.

Hir?

Yes, hir. Why not? That robot displays genuine emotions.

Arthur scratched his head. It’s a brilliant piece of technology. Of course it appears to have emotions. Trust me, though, it’s my robot. I understand it. It looks like a human being, so it’s very easy to read emotions into it, especially if you’re sensitive and used to picking up human emotions from tiny clues.

They were at the top of the folding steps now. Arthur pressed the button to fold them back up into the hull, then closed the hatch behind them. Devereux, looking impassive, was standing in the control area; there was nothing to indicate how much the android had or had not heard.

OK, said Arthur. A bit late to ask, but have you been off planet before?

Yes, replied Akira. I’ve been to the Jovian system.

Oh good. Then you know what to do. And if you’re worried about the equalisers on this ship… don’t be. They’re good. He grinned.

Akira grinned back, half out of relief. Take-off from a planet had always been the worst part of a space journey, due to the huge initial acceleration. This was why acceleration equalisers had been invented; they acted rather like shock absorbers, giving the effect, from inside the ship, of spreading out the acceleration more evenly over time. There was some research currently in progress on developing the principle still further to create a form of artificial gravity suitable for smaller ships. The really big ships, since they were too big to land anyway, got round the gravity problem by being wheel-shaped and spinning around a central axis. On a smaller ship, this was not practicable, so everything had magnets or gripcloth.

Arthur took a couple of pairs of magnetic pattens out of a cupboard, passed one to Akira, and strapped the other pair on his own feet. Devereux was already wearing a pair. The android ran a final double-check on the hatch while Arthur fastened himself into the pilot chair. Akira looked at the rest of the seating to find the piece with the most comfortable-looking security harness, and settled on one of the chairs. Devereux obligingly took the chair opposite, clicking the harness in place with practised ease.

OK! said Arthur cheerfully. Firing up the engine… now. Titan, here we come!

The engine purred into life. On the screen in front of Arthur, the green light above the departure airlock began to wink. That was the signal to be ready. The airlock was about to open. To the right of the departure airlock was the arrival airlock, which would currently be occupied by the Doge of Venice coming in from Ganymede. Once the Matilda was safely in the departure airlock, the air would be pumped between the two, allowing the Matilda to depart and the Doge to enter the spaceport. The roles of the two airlocks would then reverse for the next departure and arrival.

Slowly, the airlock opened. Arthur waited for the steady green light, which meant that the airlock was fully open and he could proceed, then set the ground wheels gently rolling so that the ship started to move towards the lock. When the Matilda was fully inside and well clear of the inner doors, he brought it to a halt again. The doors slid shut behind them, then the red light came on to indicate that the lock was being evacuated. Finally, the light went out, the outer doors opened, and the Matilda taxied gently along the paved causeway to the launch pad.

Going up! exclaimed Arthur, and held down the launch button. The little ship barrelled up through the thin Martian atmosphere, the red horizon dropping away with dizzying speed. Akira noted that Arthur had been quite right about the equalisers. This was a much more comfortable take-off than the one out to the Jovian system.

Now it just so happens, said Arthur with a grin, turning round to Akira, that this is where it is particularly useful to have a robot around that asks the right questions. I was originally going to leave tomorrow morning, but if I’d done that, you see, I couldn’t have done this. Watch. In a few minutes we’re going to approach Phobos.

You’re going to do a satellite kick? asked Akira. It was a common enough trick in the Jovian and Saturnian systems, but it was not something that was often done around Mars. After all, there were only two satellites, and it wasn’t as if they were very big.

I am. I wouldn’t have thought of it myself, but credit to Devereux here. Yesterday it noticed where Phobos was on the orbital chart, and asked if we could use that. Got to say I was impressed. I mean, normally, only reason I look for those bits of rock is to avoid hitting ’em.

I’m impressed too, replied Akira. Devereux, how did you do that?

Arthur laughed. It’s an advanced robot, Lucky-san! The computational power in that thing…

…is something that ze can’t consciously access directly, any more than we can, Akira interrupted firmly. Our brains also have phenomenal computational power, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we’re consciously good at maths. Devereux, I’ll ask again. How did you do that?

"I’m a trained pilot, san, the android replied. Over time, I have gathered enough observations to enable me to make valid predictions without always being consciously aware of how that process takes place."

There’s a word for that, Devereux, Akira pointed out. We call it intuition.

Devereux was silent. Akira found the silence so tangibly uncomfortable as to be amazed that Arthur apparently failed to notice.

Robots don’t have intuition, Lucky-san, he laughed. Devereux explained it perfectly without you having to give it a human name.

I think you can both drop the honorific, said Akira. From now on, I would prefer you both to address me as Lucky.

I am honoured, said Devereux.

Yeah, we’re going to be stuck in space with each other for a while, so feel free to call me Arthur, replied Arthur, addressing Akira. No worries. OK, here comes Phobos. I’d stay strapped down for a bit if I were you.

The satellite kick was an old trick, almost as old as space exploration itself; you swung your ship around a convenient satellite in just such a way as to get an additional kick in the right direction from its gravitational field. There would not be much of a kick to be got out of Phobos, but any kick would be useful, potentially shaving a bit of time off the trip to the Galileo wormhole. Arthur sent the ship hurtling towards the little moon, passing frighteningly close before swinging round and away at an angle to their original direction.

Only when they