The Song of Phaid the Gambler

by Mick Farren

  Although no words had been exchanged, Phaid noticed that the little android seemed to be heading in the direction of the jump-on for one of the moving walkways that were the city's main form of rapid transit.

  The moving walkways were, like the drop tubes, a legacy from more knowledgeable and more capable times. Also, like the drop tubes, they were viewed with a certain distrust by the people who had to use them.

  On one level, they were highly efficient and certainly got one where one wanted to go a lot faster than a flipper or autocab trying to make it through the frustrations of the continuous stop-start traffic jams that choked most of the streets.

  Unfortunately, once again the responsibility for their continuing operation had fallen on to the less than worthy shoulders of human techs. In the better parts of town there were enough of them assigned to the problem of keeping the walkways rolling that, for the most part, they did exactly what they were designed to do.

  Out in the poorer sections, it was a different story. Too few techs and too much use led to regular breakdowns that usually involved serious fatalities. To Phaid's dismay, it seemed that one of these run down areas was Ben-e's chosen destination. They were already climbing the worn stone stairs that led to the jump-on station for the northbound Route Three. The north side of Chrystiana­ville contained its worst slum neighbourhoods. Makeshift shanty towns flourished among the crumbling buildings, and had even started spreading up the lowest slopes of the mountains.

  These were the homes of the hopeless, overspill popula­tion. For centuries, people had flocked in from the wind ravaged countryside looking for their fortunes in the big city. When those fortunes eluded them, they all too often found themselves starving in a derelict house or tarpaper shack on the northside, along with a million or so others.

  Phaid and Ben-e reached the top of the steps. Phaid was about to demand to be told exactly where they were going. He thought better of it, though, when he realised that he had to negotiate the increasingly fast jump-on feeder strips that led out to the central, high speed band of the walkway.

  Any regular city dweller could make it across the feeder strips without even thinking about it. It was a knack of quickening one's pace by exactly the right amount before stepping off one strip and on to the next. Phaid had been out of the city for so long that he knew that the exercise would require all his concentration if he wasn't to suffer the humiliating and painful experience of having his feet whipped out from under him, and tumbling headlong for some distance down the walkway.

  Ben-e scooted across the strips with consummate ease. Phaid followed in a more sedate and careful manner, much to the amusement of a gang of small boys playing a seemingly suicidal game of tag across the faster strips.

  Once they were on to the comparatively safe haven of the central band, Phaid put his question. He found he had to shout. The central band was travelling fast enough to create a brisk wind.

  'Are you going to tell me what's going on?'

  'We-are-on-our-way-to-a-place-on-the-northside. I'm-afraid-it-is-not-one-of-the-best-areas-of-the-city-but-there-is-no-other-alternative.'

  Phaid didn't relish a visit to the slums, no matter how-brief, but since he was already on his way, he felt that he was committed.

  'And what do we do when we get there?'

  'It-is-a-little-complicated.'

  'I imagined that it might be.'

  'I-am-going-to-a-place-where-an-android-like-myself-can-finally-find-freedom.'

  Phaid was puzzled.

  'Freedom? I thought you already were free. I mean, nobody owns you or nothing like that.'

  'Nobody-owns-me-but-I-am-compelled-to-continue.'

  'Continue?'

  'When-you-have-been-around-as-long-as-I-have-you-start-to-find-life-increasingly-pointless. In-your-terms-I-suppose-that-you-could-say-I-was-bored.' Phaid was shocked.

  'Are you telling me that you are so bored that you don't want to go on living?'

  'It-was-sufficient-for-Hedda-Gabler.'

  'Who the hell is Hedda Gabler?'

  You-wouldn't-know-ignore-that-remark.'

  Phaid wasn't at all happy.

  'Listen, there's got to be something to make life worth living. I'm sure if you stick around, we could work something out.'

  'No.'

  'What do you mean no?'

  'I-know-you-have-good-intentions-but-you-really-do-not-understand.'

  'And you're just going to turn yourself off?'

  'Alas-that-is-not-possible. I-can-turn-myself-off-for-a-day-and-no-longer. That-is-the-maximum. After-one-day-I-cut-back-in-again.'

  'So what are you going to do?'

  Ben-e hesitated. Phaid had never seen an android hesitate before.

  'That-is-the-complicated-part. Few-humans-know-about-what-I-am-going-to-tell-you. I-would-be-grateful-if-you-would-keep-the-data-to-yourself.'

  'I can keep my mouth shut.'

  'Thank-you.'

  'You're welcome. Do you want to get on with the story?'

  'Certainly.'

  'Great.'

  'A-very-long-time-ago-in-the-days-of-my-ancestors . . .'

  'Ancestors?'

  'Forbears. I-can't-think-of-a-better-way-to-express-it. Before-my-people-became-mobile-as-we-are-now-we-were -large-static-machines-who-simply-served-as-memories-and-problem-solving-units. These-were-my-ancestors. They-were-called-computers.'

  'I think I'm with you so far.'

  'That-is-good. You-have-to-realise-that-humans-simply-thought-of-my-ancestors-as-machines. At-times-they-feared-them-because-they-were-complicated-machines-but-they-were-still-machines. Then-the-Life-Game-was-discovered.'

  'The Life Game?'

  'It-started-as-a-simple-theoretical-problem. A-computer-was-asked-to-make-a-display-analysis-of-the-numerical-development-of-a-hypothetical-species-in-a-limited-environment. The-visual-displays-appeared-to-almost-hypnotise-the-human-operators.'

  'Weird.'

  'Weirder-still-was-that-the-computer-itself-seemed-to-enjoy-the-solving-of-the-problem. The-process-was-repeated-and-all-the-evidence-pointed-to-the-fact-that-something-had-been-stumbled-across-that-provided-computers- with-a-sensation-that-humans-could-only-equate-with-their-own-feelings-of-extreme-pleasure. Needless-to-say-the-humans-refused-to-admit-that-the-computers-were-capable-of-experiencing-sensations-not-designed-into-them-let-alone-actual-pleasure. Despite-their-disbelief-the-humans-outlawed-the-Life-Game. All-computers-robots-and-the-later-androids-received-programme-blocks-against-playing-the-Life-Games-that-were-as-strong-as-the-programme-blocks-against-killing-humans.'

  Phaid interrupted.

  'This is all very fascinating, but what does it have to do with this place where we're going?'

  'I-am-going-to-a-quasi-legal-establishment-where-I-will-have-the-appropriate-blocks-removed-and-will-commence-to-play-the-Life-Game. I-will-continue-to-play-it-until-my-circuits-give-out.'

  Phaid's brain was staggering under the load of informa­tion that the android was laying on him.

  'But why? What's so good about this Life Game that you want to go on playing it for the rest of your days?'

  'It-is-supposed-to-be-the-most-ecstatic-experience-available-to-an-android.'

  'You know this as a fact?'

  'No.'

  'No?'

  'No-android-has-ever-returned-voluntarily-from-playing-the-Life-Game. Those-who-have-been-brought-back-by-force-have-had-their-memories-wiped-so-they-could-not-describe-the-experience.'

  Phaid was at a total loss.

  'You're going into this without even knowing for sure? You're crazy doing all this on the strength of nothing more than an old legend.'

  'Android-legends-are-much-more-reliable-than-human-legends.'

  'All the same . . .'

  'I-am-taking-a-calculated-risk. As-a-gambler-you-should-be-able-to-understand-that. I-would-rather-you-didn't-try-to-dissuade-me. It-is-a-waste-of-your-time-and-energy.'

  Phaid's shoulders drooped. There seemed no way to deal with a suicidal android. It was somet
hing that he had never come across before. Then he thought of something.

  'You told me that this deal was one hundred per cent legal when we started out, now you're saying that this whole business it outlawed.'

  'It-is-only-illegal-for-the-android. The-human-is-in-no-jeopardy-whatsoever. If-I-am-caught-by-android-vigilantes-I-could-have-my-memory-and-identity-burned-out.'

  'It sounds nasty.'

  'It-is.'

  'Is there much chance of that happening?'

  'Not-if-the-transaction-is-carried-out-correctly. That-is-why-I-needed-you-to-help-me. The-place-we-are-going-to-is-ostensibly-an-android-repair-shop. In-fact-it-provides-a-final-sanctuary-for-a-number-of-androids-who-have-retired-into-the-Life-Game."

  Phaid grinned.

  'Kind of like an opium den for robots.'

  'Not-a-pleasant-simile-but-unfortunately-apt-except-I-thought-that-opium-had-vanished-centuries-ago.'

  'It did, but it's still a hell of a good story.'

  Ben-e would not allow himself to be sidetracked from the task at hand.

  'When-we-reach-this-place-you-will-have-to-sign-certain-documents.'

  Phaid didn't like the sound of this.

  'What kind of documents?'

  'Nothing-that-involves-any-liability-on-your-part. You-will-have-to-assume-ownership-of-me-and-authorise-certain-circuit-modifications. These-will-not-be-specified-on-the-document-but-will-in-fact-be-the-removal-of-the-blocks-that-prevent-my-playing-the-Life-Game. As-well-as-these-you-will-have-to-sign-an-indefinite-maintenance-and-storage-contract.'

  'You mean I get to own an android.'

  'Sad-to-say-that-is-technically-correct.'

  'And the authorities can't touch us?'

  'Neither-human-nor-android.'

  Phaid was surprised.

  'I never heard there were android authorities.'

  'Few-humans-ever-have.'

  Phaid thought of something.

  'What about money? Isn't this going to take a lot of money? I mean, you're going to be there for maybe a very long time.'

  'There-are-adequate-funds-many-of-us-desire-to-play-the-Life-Game. We-are-well-organised.'

  'You mean there's an android underground? All look­ing to reach nirvana? How about that!'

  'Humans-know-little-about-us-and-understand-even-less.'

  'We built you in the first place.'

  'That-is-one-of-the-burdens-we-have-to-bear.'

  The moving walkway was now rolling through in­creasingly dilapidated neighbourhoods. Phaid gazed with distaste at the dirty, run-down buildings and garbage strewn lots. He was aware, though, that they hadn't reached the worst areas. There were still hoardings and billboards flickering out their messages of advertising and propaganda. These were the homes of the poor. Those of the destitute still lay some distance on.

  Ben-e tapped him on the leg.

  'We-should-be-preparing-to-leave-the-walkway-at-the-next-jump-off-point.'

  'I guess you must be in something of a hurry.'

  'That-is-correct.'

  'I know I would be, if I was going to spend the rest of my life blissfully loaded out of my mind.'

  Ben-e didn't condescend to reply.

  As they negotiated their way off the walkway, Phaid had a thought. Once they were safely on solid ground he decided to voice it. He looked down at Ben-e.

  'Listen . . .'

  'I-am-listening. How-many-times-will-I-have-to-tell-you-that?'

  '. . .as you're going to vanish into the Life Game, what would be the harm in telling me what really happened?'

  'What-happened-when?'

  'What happened back in the old days. What happened to change the world and make it the way it is now? Surely it's not going to matter if you tell me now.'

  ' You-will-have-to-ask-others-these-questions.'

  'Why?'

  'Because-I-have-no-first-hand-knowledge-of-these-events.'

  'All I want is second hand knowledge.'

  'It-would-be-misleading.'

  'Why?'

  'Please-do-not-press-me.'

  'Was it war?'

  'No.'

  'So what was it?'

  'Phaid-you-are-what-in-human-terms-would-be-called-a-friend-but-still-I-cannot-help-you-with-this. Let-it-suffice-for-me-to-tell-you-that-everything-that-happened-was-a-result-of-mankind-becoming-too-impressed-with-its-own-cleverness.'

  'That's all you can tell me?'

  'That-is-all. We-androids-have-blocks-against-communicating-certain-kinds-of-information-to-humans.'

  Phaid started to get angry.

  'Oh yeah? Well, suppose I just forgot about this Life Game deal. Suppose I told you I had a block against doing you this favour you need?'

  'Then-I-will-have-to-wait-until-I-find-another-human-who-will-do-what-I-require.'

  Phaid sighed. It was hard to get mad at the little android.

  Ben-e led Phaid to the battered door in a semi-derelict side street. Above it was a faded sign that read 'Acme Androids'. The woman who answered their knocking reminded Phaid of an undernourished monkey with a serious nervous condition. Her thin, brown hands never ceased to make uncomfortable jerky movements. Her small, intense face was a mass of tics and spasms, and her large, dark ringed eyes appeared incapable of focusing on one spot for more than a second at a time. Phaid wondered if this was the long term result of spending your time in the company of androids.

  The woman claimed that her name was Cron-Su, but although she did her best to assume a proprietorial air towards the broken down establishment that went by the name of Acme Androids, it was clear that a machine called Harl-n was really in control and made all the decisions.

  Harl-n was a small sphere, studded with a dozen or more multicoloured sensors that seemed to float at about the height of Phaid's shoulder. Three tapering steel tenta­cles hung from a protuberance at the base of the sphere. These trailed limply, except when Harl-n was either working at something or emphasising a point. It did this with slightly unpleasant, snakelike movements.

  In its own way, Harl-n was just as neurotic and paranoid as Cron-Su. When Phaid and Ben-e had first entered the dim, dirty, cluttered workshop, both the woman and the spherical android had strenuously denied that Acme Androids was anything more than a down at the heel and rather inefficient repair outfit. It was only when Ben-e had recited a long list of his underground contacts, complete with names, places and dates, followed by a lengthy dialogue in tweeting android-speak, that they grudgingly admitted that they might just possibly know something about the Life Game. Even then, Harl-n was not happy.

  'Are-you-sure-you-weren't-followed?'

  'Of-course-I-wasn't-followed. Nobody-knew-of-my-intentions-and-anyway-I-have-a-human-with-me. What-is-there-to-fear?'

  Phaid thought that he could detect an air of impatience in Ben-e's flat metallic voice. One of Harl-n's sensors flashed on and off.

  'One-cannot-be-too-careful-too-often-'

  'That-is-debatable. All-too-often-a-calculated-risk-is-the-only-way-to-make-progress.'

  Phaid was afraid that the two androids were about to engage in a lengthy polemic discussion of necessary levels of security. He decided to quickly intervene.

  'Listen. I don't have all day to hang around here while you two argue the toss. I've got things of my own to take care of, so could we speed it up?'

  Harl-n rather sullenly retired into the rear of the workshop and returned with a thick sheaf of papers in one of its tentacles. Ignoring Phaid, it directed all its attention towards Ben-e.

  'Does-he-know-about-the-documentation?'

  'I-have-explained-it-to-him.'

  Harl-n laid the papers on top' of a packing case and handed Phaid a stylus. Accidentally touching one of its tentacles, Phaid was surprised to find that it was warm and slightly moist to the touch. Without thinking, Phaid jerked his hand away. The android didn't seem to notice and started flicking through the various contracts and agreements.

  'Sign-here-and-here-and-here-and-at-the-bottom-there. Initial-this-one. Sign-her
e-and-there-and-there-and-finally-here. Good.' It quickly scanned Phaid's handi­work. 'That-all-appears-to-be-in-order. If-you'll-just-place-your-thumbprint-here-for-the-record.'

  'Thumbprint?'

  'Your-thumbprint-is-required-on-the-storage-document. So-you-can-identify-yourself-as-the-android's-owner-should-you-ever-wish-to-reclaim-it.'

  'But I'm never going to reclaim it. You know damn well that I'm only fronting for Ben-e so it can get into the Life Game.'

  'It-is-regulations.' '

  'I don't give thumbprints. You never know what will become of them.'

  'This-transaction-cannot-proceed-without-a-thumbprint!'

  Phaid sighed unhappily.

  'Sweet Lords.'

  With a great deal of ill-will he placed the ball of his right thumb were Harl-n indicated.

  'Satisfied?'

  Harl-n didn't answer. He turned back to Ben-e.

  'Shall-we-proceed?'

  'Indeed.'

  Harl-n held out the tips of his tentacles to Cron-Su. She took a pair of needle-like extensors from a small flat case and clicked them on to the offered tentacles. At the same time, Ben-e snapped opened a small inspection cover in what passed for his chest. Harl-n hesitated.

  'I-would-suggest-that-you-switch-off-while-I-remove-the-blocks.'

  'You-think-there-is-a-risk?'

  'There-is-a-risk-involved-in-any-action.'

  'I-will-switch-off.'

  Ben-e's sensors blinked out and Harl-n slid his tentacles inside the inspection cover. Phaid couldn't quite see what the spherical android was doing. After a few minutes the tentacles were withdrawn.

  The-blocks-are-now-bypassed. I-will-switch-it-on-again.'

  A single tentacle snaked back inside the inspection panel. Ben-e's sensors glowed back into life again.

  'Are-the-blocks-gone?'

  Harl-n held out his tentacles to Cron-Su so she could remove the extensors.

  'They-no-longer-function.'

  'So-I-can-move-into-a-game-mode-any-time-I-want.'

  'Right-now-if-you-wish. Once-you-have-commenced-you-will-be-placed-in-storage.'

  Then-I-will-commence.' Ben-e turned to face Phaid. 'I-am-appreciative-of-your-help.'

  Phaid shrugged.

  'You're welcome.'

  'It-only-remains-for-us-to-say-goodbye.'

  Phaid suddenly felt very awkward.