[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

asked, ‘I’m having a spot of bother with my data-coil link.’
‘Just-just an equipment failure.’ Static flared.
‘Oh good. That’s all it is. Only there doesn’t seem to be any
power.’
‘There is just-just a fault in the-in the power distributor-tor
links. Power is being reserved for esse-essential functions.
Business can proceed smoothly.’ A thick bar of colour
superimposed itself over the top third of the screen, and his
eyes switched from red to green to blue. A brief moment of
confidence that soon faded; he must have realized he was
lying to himself. ‘Business can proceed smoothly. Business
must proceed smoothly. Business-ness must proceed-eed
smoo-oothly-ly.’
And he was gone.
The Secunda took a deep breath and called up the operator.
‘Madam?’ The simulation sounded as calm as ever. She asked
for Mr Jottipher.
The dining hall’s numbered tables, napkin rings and toastracks
put Bernice in mind of a provincial guest house. A couple of
servitors buzzed over as she, Cwej and Forrester took their
seats, and hovered with an air of waiterly deference.
Forrester shook her head as Cwej handed her a plastic
wipe-clean menu. ‘I can’t read that.’ Although the format of
the menu was familiar the notation was in rows of aggressive-
looking hieroglyphs.
One of the servitors reacted to her words, chimed, and the
menus instantly rearranged themselves in English.
Cwej chuckled. ‘There you are.’
‘If somebody’s treating you well, they’re expecting
something,’ she said. ‘I wonder whether we’ve got it to give.’
‘Robots don’t need tipping.’ Bernice examined the menu.
‘Coffee and croissants all round okay?’ The servitors took this
as a command, dipped and buzzed away.
‘We can’t pay,’ said Forrester.
‘We’re guests, we don’t have to. Relax.’
The door crashed open and the Chelonians ambled in, their
internal mechanisms grinding and clanking. The younger one
glared at them and growled ferociously. Bernice reached
across the table and laid her hand on Forrester’s arm to warn
her against replying in kind. ‘Morning,’ she called chirpily to
the newcomers.
‘You are the one that entered our room last night,’ said the
older Chelonian. Bernice noted the red stripe on its shell.
‘Yeah, sorry. I’ve had a bit of a knock on the head and I got
our room numbers mixed up, General.’ She could smell her
own fear mixed in with the unmistakable odour of the
Chelonians. They smelt like old leather upholstery.
‘We were not expecting more humans,’ said the younger
Chelonian.
‘We weren’t expecting to be here. We got lost,’ said Cwej.
‘Just passing through.’
The younger moved closer, clicking its teeth deliberately to
scare them. Bernice fingered her tablemat. Forrester looked as
if she was about to burst. ‘You got lost?’
Cwej said ‘yes’ in a small voice.
There was a distraction that fortunately took away the
Chelonians’ attention. Taal appeared, grinning obsequiously at
them all. His cheeks were ruddied and the strands of wheat-
coloured hair plastered over his head were sticking up, making
him appear faintly ridiculous. He’d been drinking. ‘Morning
all.’ The cynicism beneath his words did not go unobserved by
Bernice. ‘All well?’
‘Who are these new humans?’ the General demanded.
Bernice looked into his eyes and registered a quality she’d not
previously accounted a Chelonian. He was curious, and unlike
his junior seemed unwilling to reach conclusions. ‘We were
told only five of you lived on Zamper.’
‘Guests of the Management, General Hezzka,’ said Taal.
‘Quite unconnected to your visit. I’m sure you have nothing to
fear.’
The wrong thing to say. ‘We do not fear parasites!’ The
younger Chelonian reared up, showing its teeth again and a
glimpse of its bright red tongue. ‘You intend to deceive us!’
‘Not at all, Mr Ivzid.’ Taal spoke with an air of experience.
‘No need to concern yourself. All is well.’
‘Come away, Ivzid.’ Hezzka beckoned his junior with a
motion of one claw. ‘We will take our morning meal.’
Snarling, Ivzid followed the General to a table on the far
side of the room. A little confused by the chairs they pushed
them aside and examined the menus.
‘This is crazy,’ said Forrester. She shook Bernice’s hand
away and sneered at Taal. ‘You’re going to sell those – those
things a battle cruiser?’
‘It’s not for me to make a moral judgement.’
‘The eternal excuse of the arms dealer.’
‘If it wasn’t us it’d be somebody else, love.’
‘Likewise.’
Bernice was relieved when the servitor-discs returned.
Suspended between them was a tray laden with a coffee pot
and cups and a plate of croissants, which they lowered on to
the table.
‘There must be some sort of penal code out here,’ Forrester
went on, twisting in her chair to keep up with Taal as he
moved away. ‘You’re selling out your entire species.’
‘We’re neutral and I couldn’t care less.’ He turned to the
Chelonians. ‘Gentlemen. Your orders?’
The General lifted his heavily lidded old eyes. ‘I will take
the smasti nuts.’
‘Twice,’ barked Ivzid.
Taal nodded graciously and waved the servitors off on the
errand.
There was a long and terrible silence. Bernice looked from
side to side. Both sets of diners stared at each other, with Taal
hovering inbetween. Forrester locked eyes with Ivzid. Cwej
and the General shuffled uncomfortably. If the Doctor were
here, she wondered, what would he do?
She reached for the coffee pot. ‘Shall I be mother?’
Ivzid roared. ‘You mock us!’
‘Sorry. Just an expression. No offence given.’ She poured.
The coffee slopped out, lumpy and cold. ‘Er. Taal?’
Cwej waved a croissant. ‘Are these meant to be frozen
solid?’
All eyes were now on Taal, who shrugged. ‘Small
equipment failure, I’m sure.’
Bernice wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Hezzka
rumbled. ‘Another power failure? I am suspicious of these
failures of yours.’
‘Yes.’ Ivzid tapped his front feet together. ‘We demand an
immediate explanation. A full explanation.’
‘I will personally look into these matters right away,’ Taal
said as he backed hurriedly from the dining room. His fingers
fumbled for the door handles and he was pushed aside by a
young girl, dressed in an identical red suit with Z emblem, on
her way in. They collided, apologized, and Taal was gone.
The girl smiled hesitantly. ‘Hello, everyone,’ she said with
little confidence. ‘I’m Christie, your hostess.’
Hezzka tapped Ivzid on the shell. ‘Come, First Pilot. We
are leaving.’
‘Yes. These parasites insult us.’ As they passed by the
humans’ table, Ivzid fixed Forrester with a contemptuous
glance and let fly a string of blobby mucus that landed on the
shoulder of her jacket. ‘Parasite scum!’
Forrester beat her fists on the table. ‘I don’t believe this.
What I’d give for a gun!’
Cwej dabbed at her shoulder with a handkerchief. ‘You’d
probably miss. Try not to get so worked up. They’re only giant
turtles.’
Bernice examined the new arrival. The girl had tried to
cover up her unhealthy complexion with layers of blusher,
giving her the aspect of a painted doll. Strangely, the muscles
of her arm bulged against the fabric of her suit. After [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]