Voyage

by E M Gale

  I looked at him, bemused.

  “And the captain says thank you too.”

  ‘For what? For not getting you attacked again? For getting you attacked?’

  As it was obviously something I couldn’t ask about in front of my friends, I just nodded. “Not a problem.” I figured if I had no idea what I had done, I might as well be magnanimous about it. “Hey, do I get a cut from the ransom money?”

  He gave me an odd look. “Uh, if you want.” He sounded confused as to why I would want a cut. I would have thought it would be obvious.

  “Well, it is the principle of the thing,” I said, holding my hands wide in a weighing gesture.

  “Ah, OK, I understand. Of course.”

  I smiled at him.

  He turned to Rob and Mark. “By the way, don’t worry about reporting back for shifts. We won’t need the technicians after all, so you’re free for the next three days as well.”

  ‘I’m free and I think Jane and Anna are too; why would a docked spaceship need mercs or bridge staff?’

  “Cool,” chorused Rob and Mark.

  ‘But they were supposed to come back and work at fixing up the ship.’

  “It will take three days to fix up the ship?” I asked.

  “About that,” the major said. “Without the station-side engineers and decent docking bay facilities it could have taken a week, so we could stay a bit longer if you want.”

  ‘If I want? Why would I want to stay here?’

  “Uh, OK,” I said.

  He smiled and walked back to the docking staff.

  “Let’s go and explore!” said Rob, looking like a child at Christmas.

  “That’s my sentiment exactly,” I said, grinning at him.

  ‘He seems to have more interest in huge spaceships than in random alien planets. Me, I’m just happy to be somewhere where I don’t have to worry about pirates.’

  We left the docking bay. It looked like there was a long elevator ride up to the main station. In my opinion it would be more like a train ride than an elevator ride since the timer said that it would take about fifteen minutes to get up the main part of the space station.

  ‘OK, this is a really big spaceship then.’

  The doors opened, and we piled into a large, sumptuous, rounded room: it had comfy-looking red sofas, a deep gold carpet, and a big round window with a view of space. There was even a small coffee machine. The only thing that gave it away as a lift and not a waiting room was the small brass panel with buttons for floors. Oh, and the lift music that came out of some speakers hidden in the roof. The music was, curiously enough, a song I knew—Who Wants to Live Forever by Queen, although rendered in the traditional lift music instrumental style with strings replacing voices. Something of an odd choice for lift music, I thought.

  I stood in front of the windows, my hands clasped behind my back, looking out at the stars. My friends were chatting. The violin pretending to be Freddie Mercury finished the last line–‘when love must die’–and the closing guitar solo filled the room as the elevator started to move.

  I looked up and was somewhat shocked. Out of the window, above where my head was telling me ‘up’ was, was the surface of the space station. The lift was hanging from the ceiling like an overhead car. That wasn’t all that odd, but it felt like ‘down’ was away from the surface of the space station, out towards the stars.

  The guitar faded away, and was replaced by another instrumental cover. It took me a few moments to recognise it as Living Dead Girl by Rob Zombie.

  ‘Now that’s an even weirder choice for lift music. Oh, dear. Has the lift made me as a vampire? Is this some idiot’s idea of a joke? I’m supposed to be in disguise here! Aren’t vampires supposed to be subtle?’

  My friends hadn’t noticed anything, neither about the view from the lift or the music.

  ‘At least the designer had resisted the temptation to go for a glass-bottomed lift. I don’t want to see all of space just hanging there under my feet.’

  The next tune started.

  ‘Oh, no!’

  This time the tune was ‘A Touch Of Evil’ by Judas Priest.

  ‘Oh, blood and damnation! That song was about a female vampire. It even mentioned vampires’ great disappearing trick! The songwriter guy has obviously met a vampire.’

  It was a song I knew well, so I sang along in my head as we travelled.

  ‘’Without warning you’re here, like magic you appear. Arousing me now with a sense of desire, possessing my soul till my body’s on fire.’’

  “Clarke, are you blushing?” asked Anna.

  ‘Oh, shit.’

  I coughed nervously.

  “I’m not,” I said, walking away from her to look out of the window at space. The song ended.

  ‘Thank God!’

  ‘Oh, no…’

  I knew these tracks well enough that my treacherous mind couldn’t help but fill in the lyrics.

  ‘’I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poisooooon, you’re poison running through my veins!’’

  “You are! You’re blushing,” said Anna, “Why?”

  ‘Oh, no!’

  “The song remind you of anything?” she asked, unusually perceptively.

  “Uh… no.” I suffered embarrassment. “I’ve never heard it before.”

  “Liar! You love Alice Cooper. You must have recognised it, even without his voice.”

  I shook my head vigorously. The lift door opened.

  “Hey, guys, let’s mosey,” I said and strode towards the door. They followed.

  ‘Either I’m going crazy… or the lift knew I was a vampire.’

  I Think I’m Paranoid by Garbage started up. I stopped walking and looked up at the speakers and shook my head.

  “Oh, very funny.”

  “Who are you talking to, Clarke?” asked Jane.

  “Myself,” I said darkly.

  We walked down the corridor a little way, until we hit a main thoroughfare with more people on it.

  ‘Hey, I seem to fit in. I’m not the only person wearing two swords. Most people are wearing at least one. I can see taverns, noodle bars, pubs. And many, many different species of humanoidal and grubby pirates… not attacking me, but drinking, playing cards, scoffing noodles, stuff like that.’

  I grinned at my friends. Anna looked horrified at her surroundings.

  “Hey, I think I like it here,” I said. She stared at me, even more horrified.

  ‘Now, this should be fine, all I have to do is avoid any pirates who recognise me.’

  We walked on a little way. The music here was somewhat muted, and further muffled by the noises of the other people, but I was fairly sure the song playing was Little Sister by Elvis.

  ‘What’s that got to do with anything? I must be being paranoid.’

  “Hey, little sister, don’t you…” Rob was walking next to me, singing in his best Elvis, which wasn’t all that good, truth be told. “Hey, little sister, don’t you… Hey, little sister, don’t you kiss me once or twice…” I was amused at his singing. He was hamming it up as well. “And say it’s very nice and then you leeeeaave!” He stopped caterwauling. “You know, I know every track that’s been played so far,” said Rob to me.

  I grinned at him. “Yes, they’ve all been a rather… odd selection of tracks for background music, don’t you think?”

  He shrugged. “You’d find them all in my collection. Perhaps it’s to make us feel at home.”

  I looked around us, and then leaned in close to him. “And how do they know where our home is, Rob? And more importantly, when?”

  He looked disturbed. “Someone knows?” he whispered. I nodded. He was no longer grinning.

  “Someone knows, and they want us to know they know,” I said.

  Rob looked around him for any suspicious-looking pirates. He found quite a few and frowned at them.

  ‘Someone knows not only that I’m a vampire, but also roughly which era they should nick their songs from.’
/>
  “Hey, guys,” said Anna. “Let’s head that way. It looks less”–she wrinkled up her nose here–“like Clarke would like it.”

  “Eh? What’s wrong with noodle bars and anyway, what’s that supposed to mean? Like Clarke would like it? What do I like?”

  But she’d walked off, leaving us to follow.

  We headed into the nicer part of the space station. The corridors were wider, the people we passed were cleaner and didn’t smell of ship oil and contraband. We walked through to a big atrium area. I saw a posse of about six vampires. They saw me. Some nodded, some smiled.

  ‘Shit.’

  I looked at my friends. They hadn’t noticed, so I smiled and nodded back.

  “Hey, Anna, slow down. Where you trying to get to anyway?” I said.

  She glared at me. “Away from the dodgy bits of the ship. See, this bit is nice.”

  It had pale blue walls and a few fancy-looking boutiques. I saw another vampire. She recognised me, and nodded subtly at me. I did the same back.

  ‘Well, at least they’re being subtle about it. None of them are coming up, slapping me on the back and asking me how I’m doing.’

  I regarded my friends again and pondered whether they realised how many vampires there were walking around them.

  “This bit is dodgy.” I gestured at the cleanliness. “Where’s all the pirates?”

  Anna frowned and pointed her finger straight at me. I turned around; there was no one behind me.

  ‘Oh, I get it.’

  “I am not a pirate!” I said, turning back.

  Jane laughed behind her hand. Anna was frowning.

  “I’ve not done anything even remotely piratey… Pirates are… Rob, you’re the expert, what do pirates do?”

  “They nick stuff–”

  “See, I don’t do that,” I said, tapping my breastbone emphatically.

  “–flog it for money, then they drink, get into fights, get laid, then go and nick more stuff.” I was glad to see that his expensive education had not been a waste of money.

  “There you are, then. I don’t do any of that stuff.”

  Jane was still sniggering, so I glared at her.

  “Well, you look the part,” Anna said, waving at my swords.

  “Oh, come on, they’re just a pair of harmless little swords!”

  Rob grinned at me. “We could get you an eyepatch.”

  “Kinky,” I said, grinning back. Anna glared at us both for some reason. “Anyway, pirates dress more… frothy.”

  ‘I wonder how Alucard dresses. If he’s dumb enough to name himself that, he is probably dumb enough to dress like a vampire: all black suits and flouncy shirts. But pirates are also known for flouncy shirts and big hats. I wonder which he does? Or does he try to do both? Hmm… flouncy shirts, black suits and a big hat? That doesn’t sound quite right.’

  “Hey, what’s that?” asked Mark, pointing at a small, metal, humanoid-shaped thing that was heading straight towards us.

  ‘I see, it’s a sort of robot. Ah. Rats. It isn’t going to give me away, is it? Uh, where to hide, where to hide? Hey, there’s a service corridor over there, that’ll do. If I can get my friends to go in it…’

  “Hey, cool. It’s a robot!” exclaimed Rob.

  ‘Shit.’

  The robot thing came level with us. It was short, about three quarters of the size of a human, and it walked in an odd way, as its legs were permanently bent at the knee. The torso was a metal cylinder with two long double-elbowed arms coming out of it. It had a smaller metal cylinder for a head, except it had no face. Rather it had a suggestion of a face in metal, with cameras, speakers and moveable eyebrows, oddly enough.

  “Hello, Clarke, welcome home. Greetings, Mark Jameson, Anna Grately, Jane Spencer. Welcome home, Master,” it said to Rob, “would you like me to show you to your suite?”

  We all looked at each other then looked at the robot.

  “What?” said Rob.

  “Deere, it’s Jane Deere,” said Jane.

  ‘Oh, I see!’

  I leapt forward, grabbed the robot by a spindly arm and dragged it off with me into the service corridor I’d already espied. We went up it a little way and around a corner, then I crouched down to look it in the face.

  “Is this the Icarus?” I demanded, leaning forward to shout at its sensors.

  “I do not know that name,” it said. Its voice was heavily synthesised and flat. I didn’t like it. I couldn’t tell if it was lying or not.

  “Tell me, who owns this place?”

  “Alucard does.”

  “Then why did you call Rob ‘Master’?”

  “Because he built me.”

  “Did he build this ship?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it Moon Base One?” I asked, using the official and rarely used name.

  “I don’t know that name.”

  “Robert Deegen, born eighth June, 1982, when did he die?”

  “2042.”

  I frowned. “Wait, so he survives the Etrusian war?”

  “Yes.”

  “But… How?”

  “I do not know.”

  “Is he alive now?”

  “No, the Rob in your future in the past died in 2042, but Rob from your present in the present is alive and outside in the atrium.”

  I sat on the floor and stared at the robot.

  ‘If Rob survives the war–just like my future self said–then this ship could be the Icarus, right?’

  The door opened. The others came through cautiously. It was amazing how something like an unlocked door that looked like it was for staff only would keep people out. I suspected they had hesitated outside, knocking on the door and calling my name or some such foolishness.

  “Clarke, what are you doing down there on the floor?” asked Mark.

  “Sitting,” I said, somewhat in a daze.

  Rob came over and sat next to me to look closely at the robot. He started picking up an arm and moving it around.

  ‘So… my future self didn’t lie to me… and that definitely wasn’t a dream then? Or can she talk to me via a dream?’

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut.

  ‘There’s no way I could have dreamed up something as far-fetched as that. Especially since it turned out to be correct. And there was the hair.’

  “I thought you were going to rip its arm off then, Clarke,” Rob said.

  “Good engineering,” I said.

  ‘So… was I really there? Was I kidnapped across time and space by my future self to act? To look upset as Rob blew up, because he didn’t actually get blown up and she didn’t think she could act that well? She said I’d find out about him surviving soon, and I’ve just found out that he did survive…’

  “Yeah, it’s great engineering! Do you think it has an AI?” he asked.

  “I could talk to it,” I said, still dazed.

  ‘But how? How did I get there across time? Well, who do I know who must have a time machine? Rob. And my future self presumably. Well, I awoke there, and I had to fall asleep again before I got back. Was that so I thought it was a dream and didn’t see how the machine worked?’

  ‘They kidnapped me? I kidnapped me! I’m such a bitch!’

  “OK, computer,” Rob said to the robot. “Hello.”

  “Hello, Master,” said the robot.

  ‘Rob got my future self to kidnap me using his time machine and then teleported the Icarus out of a battle.’

  “Rob! What the hell did you do?” He gave me an odd look. “And… how did you do it?” I said, looking at him with awe. “How did you pull that off?”

  ‘And why? To win the war? To steal the ship? Both?’

  I beamed at him and held my index finger up. “You are a pirate, not a magician.”

  Rob was giving me a very strange look.

  “Are you OK, Clarke?”

  I nodded slowly, and then turned to the robot. “How did this ship get here?”

  “I do
n’t know,” it said. Its voice was as flat and emotionless as someone overdosed on barbiturates.

  “Why did it call me ‘Master’?” asked Rob.

  “You built it,” I said,

  “You built me,” said the robot at the same time.

  “What?” said Anna.

  ‘If I really was kidnapped… and not dreaming… then… oh, my God! I fought a war! Hey, I won a war! That was it! That was the last battle of the Etrusian war! And I winged it! On the basis of a B-movie and a chance comment from my future self!’

  “Ooh, blood and damnation and all the angels of hell!” I put my head in my hands and suddenly I was laughing almost hysterically.

  ‘I guess that’s one less thing to worry about in thirty years’ time.’

  “What? What’s so funny?” said Rob.

  I stopped laughing.

  ‘So… if Rob wasn’t blown up… is he a vampire now?’

  I just stared at the present-day version. He just stared back. He looked somewhat confused and was starting to blush.

  “What’s up with you, Clarke?” asked Mark.

  I stared at the robot. It didn’t sweat, it didn’t have a heartbeat, and its scents didn’t seem to change under scrutiny.

  ‘How can I tell if it is lying to me?’

  I prodded it a few times. It wobbled.

  ‘How can I ask it if Rob becomes a vampire in front of the others?’

  “Can you lie?” I asked the robot.

  “No.”

  ‘Convenient. That is if I can believe that. Which I don’t.’

  “I built it?” said Rob, catching up to the conversation. My brain was running one and a half times normal speed trying to figure everything out, file all the conclusions in the right place and not miss anything important.

  “Hey, what’s your name?” Mark asked the robot.

  “Hello, Mark Jameson, my name is Igor.”

  I groaned. “Who gave you that dumb name?”

  “Alucard,” said Igor, the robot.

  ‘Honestly. Whoever Alucard is, he has no taste.’

  “What an idiot,” I muttered. “The current owner, when did he take over?”

  “2053.”

  “Who did he buy it from?”

  “The Deegen family.”

  “Not Robert Deegen himself?”

  “No.”

  “Who then?”

  “Eleanor Deegen.”

  I looked at Rob. He looked stunned at this.