Voyage

by E M Gale

  ‘This is not good. I’m lucky it was still able to fly. My poor ship doesn’t look good at all.’

  The major jogged over. He had a few marines with him. They were gawping at my ship open-mouthed. In fact, it looked like he and Smith had been pulled out of bed by my crash landing. Smith was only wearing an oversized pair of Hawaiian shorts and the major was in his dressing gown again.

  “Are you OK, Clarke?” asked the major in concern.

  “Hi, Hemmingway, look what they did to my pretty ship!” I exclaimed, pointing at it.

  “Who?” he asked.

  “I dunno, nefarious bounty-hunter types who were hiding in them dust clouds.”

  “The same as before?” he asked quietly.

  “My poor ship!” I wailed. “They’ve completely ruined the lines of it, look!”

  The major was looking at me like he expected something.

  ‘Oh, he asked me a question, didn’t he?’

  “Uh, I don’t think so. These ones wanted me ‘dead, deader than dead, definitely not undead’ or something. The previous lot wanted me alive,” I explained.

  One of the docking bay attendants came over. I’d not spoken to any of them yet. How would they expect me to act?

  “Nice landing, Clarke,” said the docking bay guy. He was chubby, his clothes had oil on them, he was chewing gum and he seemed somewhat unruffled by the fact that I’d just crashed a spaceship into his docking bay wall.

  ‘Does this sort of thing happen a lot?’

  “Do you want this one fixed up as well?” he asked. He gave the ship a considering look that told me he was thinking about how much he could get away with charging for it.

  “Please, but get the Egg fixed first.”

  “Do you want to know how much it will cost?”

  I regarded the postmodern sculpture that had been a nice, sleek ship.

  “No, it’ll probably just make me cry,” I said with feeling. “My poor ship!”

  The docking bay attendant laughed. “Well, if you will get them in this state…”

  I frowned at him. “Hey, they attacked me!”

  “I presume that means that you didn’t get their insurance details then.”

  I stared at him.

  “I’ll just charge it to your account,” he said and sauntered off.

  ‘Meh.’

  I shook my head at the ship.

  “That was one hell of a bang, Clarke,” said Smith. “It got me out of bed,” he added.

  “Sorry, Smith, next time I’m facing a life-or-pancake decision like that, I’ll be sure to factor in whether or not my crash landing will disturb your sleep.”

  “Are you all right, Clarke?” asked the major again. He was frowning at me in concern.

  ‘Why? Don’t I look all right?’

  I nodded. The bridge was damped so I hadn’t been that thrown around and, well, fear wasn’t life-threatening. “Fine.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “I think you might be in shock.”

  “Don’t worry, and sorry if I got you out of bed.” I smiled.

  He looked taken aback by that comment.

  ‘Oh, well.’

  “See you guys later,” I said, waving at them casually and wandering off. They looked at each other and the major followed after me.

  “Clarke,” he called.

  I stopped walking to regard him.

  “Are you injured?” He looked worried. “Don’t you think you should see Doctor Cleckley? You might be concussed.”

  ‘Eeek! The last thing I need is to give Cleckley the opportunity to do more experiments on me.’

  “Nah, I got to check the bars are still there. That’s the most important thing for me to do right now,” I said.

  The major frowned, then he rather deliberately looked from me to my ship and back again. I turned and strolled off, waving goodbye over my shoulder.

  “Did you see that?” said Wright. “That was one hell of a landing!”

  “How did she get the ship shot up like that in neutral territory?” asked Smith.

  “God knows,” said Stonewall.

  Vampiric hearing was kinda cool.

  I headed up to the elevator, rolling the tension out of my shoulders and neck. The doors slid open and I was face to face with the robot. His face didn’t express any emotion, but I guessed that he was annoyed.

  ‘Uh-oh.’

  I looked around. There was no other way to get back to the main part of the station and I didn’t want to head back to the Shiny, Shiny Egg; I’d be quartered in med bay before I could say ‘vampire rights’. I entered the elevator.

  ‘Fifteen whole minutes, just me and him. Great.’

  “Rob Bot 27?” I asked cautiously.

  ‘You never know, I might be lucky.’

  “The same.” He sounded unimpressed. I sighed.

  The doors shut. I said nothing. He said nothing. We rode in uncomfortable silence, unrelieved by even the lift music.

  “Huh, it’s weird that the view out of the lift windows is upside down,” I said. I eyed the robot. He said nothing. “Is it ’cos Tortuga’s rotating to create a fake gravity?”

  The robot regarded me with his unblinking sensor eyes.

  “Clarke, just what in the hell were you thinking?”

  I chewed on my knuckle. “Um… something like, ‘Hey, wouldn’t it be cool to fly around in that big pretty cloud thing in my pretty little spaceship?’” I said, nodding to myself. It was roughly accurate.

  “You could have been killed.”

  “I know. I was doing great at the flying, and I didn’t even crash into anything when they started firing on me. But I didn’t know there would be bounty hunters hanging around like that, waiting to ambush me.”

  “Didn’t I tell you it was dangerous?”

  “Yes, you did. And I listened to your advice and took it on board.” I was staring out at the stars, a little distracted. They looked further away now that I was safe on a big ship rather than on a little one.

  “Took it on board? Clarke, we’re talking about your life here! If you–”

  “Hey, robot, am I the only person who flies completely black ships or something? How did they know it was me?”

  “Well, pretty much… you are known for your gothy paint jobs. I did tell you that before.”

  ‘Great. Maybe I should paint some white just in case.’

  “You don’t seem to be taking this seriously,” said the robot.

  I shrugged. “What should I do?” I looked at the robot, somewhat annoyed with him. “Cry about it? I survived, practised my flying and my landing, but, y’know, I’m kind of glad I didn’t bring any of my friends on that trip. They wouldn’t have enjoyed it.”

  “Oh? And you did?”

  ‘Well… no. It was exhilarating. Now, I feel happy to still be alive, and slightly disturbed at the memory of the experience.’

  “No, but if there are people out there who are gunning for me, it makes sense to get to the point where I can deal with them.” I sighed. “I’ve got no choice really, have I?”

  “Well…” The robot was quiet, but I had caught onto that idea.

  “I’m two hundred years in the future. In the last two hundred years my future self seems to have made a lot of enemies and learnt a lot of skills, like sword-fighting, battle directing and spaceship flying. I arrived here with the ability to program a computer, refactor an equation and dance. That’s it. I’ve got to get the skills she has as soon as possible, so I have to do things like fly her ships in space.” I hadn’t realised quite how much angst I had about this. “In fact, it’s probably good that they fired on me. Now I know something about fighting battles in space and how to crash-land.”

  “Oh, Clarke,” said the robot and his flat voice managed to sound slightly sympathetic.

  I sniffed and rubbed my eyes. “What do you mean, ‘Oh, Clarke’? I’m not gonna cry about it. I’ve just been spending all my time trying to get the skills I need and the quickest way to get them in
volves danger.”

  The robot was quiet.

  ‘Well, at least he’s not telling me off.’

  I shook my head at myself, sniffed, wiped my eyes again and calmed myself down.

  “So… what are you going to do now?” he asked.

  I grinned. “Ah, now, I relax by biting necks.”

  “No duels then?”

  I shook my head. I was not in the mood to be stabbed. “Nah, I’ve had enough battling for one day.” I sighed and glanced at the robot. “Hey, robot, if you’ve dropped the ‘your future self isn’t a pilot’ line, can you do me a favour and give me a copy of any books in your library that would be useful to me? I’m thinking specifically spaceship design and mechanics. I guess I need to know how the engines work, under what conditions, whether they work in nebulae or not, that sort of stuff.”

  “I’ll get you some useful information. I’ll add in any military books we’ve got too. And since we’ve got a copy of your future self’s library here, there should be something useful.”

  “Great, good idea, thank you.” I sighed. “Yet more stuff to learn. This is as hard as grad school.”

  The robot laughed. “So you wouldn’t have chosen it then? This life? Would you rather have been a scientist after all?”

  ‘Hmm. Well… I don’t know. I don’t like killing, I don’t like fighting, but I do like winning.’

  “I have no idea. I’ve only just started, so you should ask my future self that question.” I said.

  “I have.”

  “What did she say?”

  “‘Maybe.’”

  ‘Oh, well, nice and non-committal there.’

  “Is it perhaps possible that I’m fated to end up in this job? It was the Orc-Vampire War that started it. Somehow I will end up leading the army, I don’t know how. But maybe someone had to lead and I was the best choice. I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out.” I sighed again. “After all, it’s not like I have a choice anyway, is it?”

  “Um… about what?”

  “If I go back, I will have to fight in those stupid wars, right? I don’t know why specifically those bounty hunters were targeting me, but it’s probably because of the wars, right?”

  “Or politics,” said the robot. “It’s often politics.”

  “Well, whatever, but when I go back, can I choose to live a less high-profile life and avoid things like bounty hunters and assassins? Or, because my future self has already chosen not to do that, do I have no choice but to do the same? Otherwise I’ll break causality. And I have no idea if that is even possible.”

  “I don’t know,” said the robot. “Maybe if you make different choices, the future will change and your memories will change and this discussion will never have happened.”

  I nodded at that. “And Tortuga probably won’t be here. I’m sure it will be Rob’s dumb idea to nick that flagship, but I know I helped. And who knows who’ll win them wars if I don’t fight them.”

  “So, are you going to choose this future?” asked the robot.

  I shrugged. “I’ll make it up as I go along, I guess. What else can I do? Unless I know everything about every possible consequence of my actions, I can’t really choose any better. At least if I make the choice that seems best at the time, I don’t end up hamstrung by indecision.”

  “Perhaps. Of course you could find out more about your future and know more about what you will do.”

  I shook my head.

  “What if what is written is wrong? Historical records are not a hundred percent accurate, so how could I trust them? I’d be looking for what the record surmised happened whilst missing what actually does. I think the best thing for me to do is to ignore anything written about me. It’s also the easiest course of action.”

  “Oh, I guess that sounds sensible.”

  I nodded.

  “Can I ask what you were trying to tell your friends before Dr. Cleckley interrupted?” asked the robot.

  “Actually, he didn’t interrupt. Rob did by going on about me sleeping with Cleckley.” I blew air out of my mouth in an annoyed fashion. “What the hell did he need to get so uppity about?” I shook my head. “Anyway, robot, you’ll be pleased to know that I was going to follow your advice and tell them all about me being a vampire. I figured that I could have hidden being a vampire from them if I were just a normal unknown one, but since I seem to be personally recognisable, and that’s without showing the teeth, I figured they would find out sooner or later, and it might well be best to tell them myself.”

  “Oh?” The robot sounded surprised. “You were really going to tell them?”

  “Yeah, I wanted to show off my pretty ship and my flying skills. It’s probably just as well I didn’t, they might have screamed and put me off my flying. But then again, one of them could have aimed at the bounty hunters and actually hit them perhaps.” I shook my head.

  “That’s weird. I know that you don’t tell them you’re a vampire–they find out–and yet you decided, knowing that, to tell them anyway because of my advice. Does that break causality?”

  ‘Hmm, an interesting question. The robot’s conversation has improved.’

  “Well, no, since I didn’t tell them, because Rob and Anna wouldn’t listen, but started talking about Cleckley–”

  “Ah, but was that because the universe was acting to make sure that you didn’t break causality?”

  ‘An intriguing idea. But that would be attributing an intelligence to the laws of physics.’

  “Well, how do you know that my future self didn’t do the same thing last time?” I asked.

  “What do you mean last time?”

  “Well, she, my future self, has already lived through that event. I wonder whether she decided to tell them?”

  “Clarke, your future self is you. She did exactly what you did.”

  ‘Well, yes, but it kinda feels like the event happens twice–first time just happened, the second will happen again when I’m her. Of course, my future self had no part in that conversation, but say that she watched it from a camera or something, then the event would have happened twice to her. Or me.’

  “It’s confusing. She isn’t me. I don’t know what she knows. She can remember what I know, but she can still get it wrong, like when she gave me the note to hand the bridge back to her. I didn’t–she must have known I wouldn’t, as she didn’t. But she still gave me the note anyway. Why?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The final battle of the Etrusian war. I was supposed to leave the bridge after Rob’s faked death, but I fought it all.”

  “Really? I thought you were supposed to switch back,” said the robot.

  “Well, we were, but we didn’t.” I frowned at my tin can friend. “Hey, robot, I thought my future self talked to you. She doesn’t seem to tell you much…”

  ‘Should I be more careful about what I say to this damned thing?’

  “I did say that she was more secretive than you. Unnecessarily so. She keeps secrets even when there is no reason to–”

  ‘Oh? Why?’

  “–like you are keeping the secret of your identity from your friends.”

  “Well, yes, but I tried to tell them and either the universe stepped in to prevent me or Rob and Anna just got their knickers in a twist about Cleckley. And I wasn’t going to tell them when they were already annoyed at me. It’s hardly the best time, is it?”

  “OK, but I think it’s worse when they do find out,” said the robot.

  I nodded at that. “I don’t know that causality has to be conserved. I think that if Anna and Rob hadn’t started going on about Cleckley, I would have told them. But instead Rob got in a mood, and I’m not telling him until he’s calmed down. And, well, I was only going to tell them to take them on the ship, but if people are going to shoot at me then maybe it’s not such a good idea.” I sighed. “Ah, sod it, come what may, I won’t tell them. I’ve got five thousand pelfre riding on this.”

  The robot laughed.
>
  “That, Clarke, is the least of your worries.”

  Brannigan

  The next day I packed up what I had planned to steal from my future self. All her clothes were nicer than mine, so I took some trousers, the boots and a couple of good-quality tops and tee-shirts. I left the pretty dresses, as I was unlikely to need them onboard the ship. I also left the fancy sword with the black handle. I helped myself to most of her coffee supply, however. I spent the day fighting duels with the swords I’d nicked from the assassins and drinking vampire blood, mostly from the young ones who hung around the duelling ground.

  I could have gone to see my friends, but I decided to just leave them to it. I headed back to my quarters about an hour before I had to go. The ship wouldn’t leave for a while yet, but I wanted to make sure that I was on it. I strapped on the two swords I’d taken from the assassins, a pair of my future self’s nice lightweight black combat trousers, a strappy top and a man’s shirt over the top. As I was no longer on holiday I pinned my hair up. I had the books that the robot had given me on my PDA and the vampirish poetry books I was taking.

  There was a knock at the door. I concentrated. I could smell robot–oil, metal lubricants and ozone–and no humans. I opened the door wide.

  “Rob Bot 27?” I asked.

  “Yes, I take it you’re off now then.”

  I shouldered the bag I’d found and packed. “Yup. Please apologise to my future self for my nicking all her stuff, would you?”

  “You can’t nick it, it’s your stuff.”

  I nodded at that.

  ‘I’m not sure that she’d view it the same way. I certainly wouldn’t and I’ve cost her more than enough money.’

  “Well, goodbye, until next time, Clarke,” said the robot.

  I stared at the robot. “Eh? Am I coming back or did you mean my future self?”

  “No, you’ll be back.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re on a smugglers’ ship. This is the main neutral port on this side of the galaxy. You’ll be back here.”

  ‘Well, OK, it isn’t a bad place to stay all in all.’

  “OK then, ja ne!” I said.

  I rode the elevator back down to the piratey level we had come in on and wandered past the pubs and noodle bars.