Hotel Andromeda

by Edited by Jack L. Chalker

  “What can I get for you, friend Terran?”

  The Terran looked him right in the eye—which was so unusual that Gemmy knew at once he’d never served this fellow before—and said, “How about jing jang? Can do?”

  “Can do,” said Gemmy. “With or without leaves?”

  “Oh, I think definitely with.”

  “Coming right up.”

  He was tall for a Terran and settled himself along the back wall with a kind of sprawl that made Gemmy wonder once more how bipeds managed to balance at all. As he prepared the drink, Gemmy looked at the Terran again. Definitely a familiar smeller. Now why?

  The Terran plopped a package onto the table and brought out two furry objects. Gemmy set the drink carefully beside them. “Rabbits.” he said. “Am I right?”

  “Rabbits is right. How’d you ever team to recognize Terran rabbits?” The Terran showed his teeth; Gemmy knew that was a good sign.

  “Movies—no, that’s the wrong word—cartoons. I watched Terran cartoons. Some of them had creatures with ears like that.”

  More teeth showed. That made the smeller seem even more familiar. Gemmy said, “Forgive me for asking, but have you stayed at Hotel Andromeda before?”

  “Nope, first time. Why?”

  Gemmy knew enough about Terrans not to mention the smeller. “Your face looks familiar.”

  The Terran showed still more teeth. Gemmy hoped he wouldn’t do that in a room full of Ressenians—he’d cause a riot, sure enough. At least the teeth weren’t pointed, but Gemmy did have to remind himself occasionally that tooth display was a friendly gesture from a Terran. This being more tooth display than he was used to, Gemmy looked at the rabbits. “Are these real rabbits? Do they hop?”

  “Well, I’m sorry to say, they’re not real. They’re a present for my nephew—toys.” The Terran waited to see if Gemmy understood the word. “But they do hop. Though I wouldn’t want to try them in here.” His glance swept the bar. “I was assured they could hop twenty feet! I’d love to try them before I gave them to the boy. Hate to disappoint a kid, you know.”

  Gemmy knew. He also wanted very much to see the rabbits hop.

  “Need lots of space, though. I don’t suppose you know of a place…?”

  Gemmy gave it thought. The Terran reception committee wouldn’t be here for some three hours. The Bulbous Beet was, for the moment, practically deserted but for the two Gillspuns in the drinking pond—which took care of them quite nicely, thank you. Milly, the Terran waiter, would be here in a few minutes....

  The Terran with the familiar smeller said, “I saw a big room just down the corridor—wasn’t anybody in it—maybe I could try the rabbits out there. Think anybody’d mind?”

  “I don’t think so.” Gemmy turned and waved to the bartender. “I’m just going to give the gentleterran a quick tour, Dubs; I’ll be right back.”

  “You’d better be,” Dubs said. She held three of her hands aloft, tendrils splayed. “Thirty minutes, you’ve got, before the Terran reception committee shows up thirsty.”

  The Terran downed his drink and—one rabbit in either hand—rose to follow Gemmy.

  The corridor was packed with new arrivals, all dragging various forms of luggage behind them. Judith the bellboy must be peeved, Gemmy thought; another one of those cheapie tours where they hate to have their bags carried. Three Hepetellists goggled at the Terran and pointed and whistled.

  “First-timers,” Gemmy said to his companion. “I am sorry they have such bad manners.” He thought for a long moment and said, “Let’s take the back way. No need to—”

  “To expose a guest to another guest’s bad manners?” the Terran suggested helpfully.

  “Exactly,” said Gemmy. He trotted back into the Bulbous Beet and opened the access door that led down to the formal reception room.

  “Wow!” said the Terran, following him inside. “I didn’t know this was here.”

  “Staff only,” Gemmy said. “When we have to serve drinks at a reception, it’s nice to have a shortcut.”

  “Nice, indeed,” said the Terran, showing his teeth again.

  A few yards later, Gemmy opened a second manual door and the two of them stepped into the Atmosphere Three Reception Room. Gemmy, recalling his grand tour line, made an expansive gesture and announced: “The Privilege of the Grand Potentate Room.”

  The Terran looked suitably impressed; at least, his mouth opened wide. Then he showed teeth again. “That’s some mouthful. I’ll bet that’s not what the staff calls it.”

  “You’re right there; the staff just calls it At-Three.”

  “I knew it.” He took a long look around. “Looks like you’ve got it all set up for somebody special.”

  “Right again. The Mopelling diplomats are coming to meet the Terran diplomats.”

  “The hotel has diplomats?”

  “Just temporarily. The two species swap delegations here and then go on to their respective destinations, each with a local escort.” Gemmy gave a pointed look at the toy rabbits. “We haven’t much time.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I was appreciating how very… purple the whole thing is.”

  “Purple?”

  “Wavelength,” the Terran explained. “I see it as a specific color: purple. Very purple. Remarkably purple.”

  “Not pleasantly purple, by your standards?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. Overwhelming.”

  “Apparently, the Mopellings see the wavelength differently. They asked, in fact, for that specific wavelength.”

  “Whooosh,” said the Terran.

  If he’d had eyestalks, they’d probably be twisted, Gemmy thought. “Try the rabbits,” Gemmy said. “They’re not purple.”

  The Terran made a croaking noise that Gemmy recognized as an expression of pleasure. “I like the way you think,” he said. Then, to Gemmy’s surprise, he strode to the end of the room and set the toy rabbit with its tail right up against the wall. “Okay,” he announced. “Let’s see if this lives up to its billing.”

  The toy rabbit hopped. The Terran gave another croak of pleasure and followed behind it, the entire length of the room. Gemmy was so startled and pleased by the sight that he sat back on his haunches and clucked to himself. The rabbit hopped exactly like the ones in the cartoons.

  But the way the Terran followed after was indescribable. The Terran was all angles and looked for all the world like he was being led along… as if his smeller were somehow hooked to the rabbit’s fluffy white tail by an invisible string. Why the Terran didn’t get pulled over—right onto that smeller of his—Gemmy would never know, but he was awfully glad he was here to see it.

  Suddenly, Gemmy felt very guilty. Here he was, goggling at the Terran the same way the first-timers had. He ought to know better!

  The rabbit’s nose touched the far wall, and the Terran scooped it up, tucked it under his arm, and strode back. Gemmy tried to get his clucking under control and failed and felt even guiltier.

  The Terran showed teeth. “That noise you’re making. That means you find it funny, right?”

  Abashed, Gemmy said, “Yes.”

  “Good. So do I. I think my nephew will have a grand time with his rabbit.” He set the other one with its tail against the door they’d come through and sent it off toward the purplest of the purple draperies. This time he didn’t follow but stood there croaking as he watched it.

  “Funnier from this end. Watching the little white tail bob up and down, I mean.” The Terran looked him in the eye but Gemmy couldn’t bring himself to cluck this time. “Ah!” said the Terran. “The rabbit’s not as funny as I am.”

  “I apologize…,” Gemmy began.

  “Not necessary. I imagine two legs look pretty damn precarious to you.”

  He went to retrieve the rabbit. When he’d caught the toy up again, he came back across the room at a gait that Gemmy would not have believed possible. If the walk had looked precarious, this was positively dangerous!

  “Be careful!” Gemmy
called out, in spite of himself.

  More teeth—lots more teeth. “That, my fine four-legged friend, is ‘skipping’ and my nephew is an expert skipper. Of course, he’s had some five years’ practice....”

  “You mean, he’s a child? And he can do that?”

  The Terran nodded. “So you see, it’s not all that dangerous. I only meant to make you laugh, I didn’t mean to frighten you to death.”

  “Not quite ‘to death,’” Gemmy said. He took a deep breath and urged color back into his fringes. The Terran closed labia over his teeth. Very serious, that was, if Gemmy remembered correctly.

  “Come,” said the Terran. “Let’s get away from all this purple. I’ll buy you a drink. I owe you that much for having scared the bejesus out of you.” He gestured Gemmy back through the shortcut and into the bar. “Take my advice, my friend, don’t ever watch a jump-rope contest. You’d go positively black around the fringe!”

  Until the bar got busy, the Terran regaled him with the most horrifying descriptions of jump rope imaginable. Gemmy couldn’t decide whether he was making the whole thing up or not. Maybe Milly could tell him if they ever got a moment’s break again. Just before the Terran reception committee was due to arrive, the Terran with the familiar smeller glanced at his watch and said, “Ooops, gotta date.”

  Gemmy brought him the bill and he anteed up. Then he threw a nice-sized tip onto Gemmy’s tray and, beside it, he set one of the rabbits. “For you,” he said. “My nephew only needs one.”

  “Then why did you get two?” This was one of those things about Terrans that continued to mystify him.

  “Cheaper that way,” the Terran said. “You keep it to remind you of the funny bit.”

  “Thank you,” said Gemmy, amazed at the thought of a Terran who understood how odd he looked to Gemmy and who didn’t seem to mind it. “Thank you!”

  “Aha!” said the Terran. “You clucked! I knew I’d get it right if I worked on it.”

  “I hope we’ll see you again,” said Gemmy. meaning it for once.

  “I guarantee it,” said the Terran with the still-familiar smeller.

  The Terran reception committee’s module had arrived. Gemmy accessed the neural network and watched for a moment as Terrans spilled into the corridor and fanned out into the At-Three section of the hotel. Within minutes, the Bulbous Beet was full. Gemmy had expected the first-timers, because by now they’d have settled their luggage in their rooms and come looking for refreshment. He hadn’t expected some few Terrans from the delegation, but here they were. and they’d brought a Hotel Security robot with them.

  “Gemmy, this is Carmela Antonini. She’s head of special security for the Mopelling delegation. Chief Antonini, this is Gemmy, No First Name.”

  This Terran was unfamiliar to Gemmy, but under the circumstances he did his best to pick out such features as would allow him to recognize her when next he saw her. The patch of fur on her head was striped red and gold. Her smeller was small and turned up slightly at the tip. Gemmy knew he couldn’t count on the hair color of any Terran staying the same from day to day, but he hoped the general shape would remain. The smeller was easier, though. It was the first of that particular shape he’d seen.

  “I’m pleased to meet you. Chief Antonini. May I get you a drink?”

  The corners of her mouth turned up to express pleasure, but she showed no teeth. Careful, this one. She wasn’t about to risk offending him. “Thank you, no, Gemmy. I’m here to make a few inquiries about security.” To the robot, she said, “That will be all for now. Gemmy and I can handle this on our own.”

  Unoffended, the security robot simply turned and left.

  “Come sit with me, Gemmy. I need to ask you a few questions.”

  The bar was hopping. Still, Gemmy knew enough to know that from a chief of security that was an order. “Let me take care of that table over there and then I’ll come join you. I can’t leave my customers completely in the lurch.”

  “I understand,” she said. “When you have a spare moment, then.”

  More understanding than a lot of private security he’d dealt with, Gemmy thought. He served a round of drinks to the first-timers; they gawked appallingly. The youngster in the group wanted to touch Gemmy’s scales. Gemmy let it: kids of any species are naturally curious and to stifle that curiosity was harmful. Then he explained the situation to Milly.

  “Sure,” she said. “Just stick close enough that I can scream if I need you.”

  He pointed out the table where Chief Antonini sat. He had the odd thought that she was memorizing everyone in the bar.

  Milly whistled. “Hot stuff!”

  “I don’t get you, Milly.”

  “Very attractive to another Terran,” Milly said. “Utterly wasted on you.” Milly showed lots of teeth and Gemmy clucked because now he got it. “Here,” said Milly. “She probably doesn’t drink—alcohol, I mean—on duty. But take her this from me. On the house.”

  Gemmy did as he was told. And he thought he’d pass along the compliment, as well. Terrans appreciated compliments just as much as anybody. “Milly says you’re hot stuff, and she sends you a non-alcoholic drink, on the house.”

  That was some sort of mistake, for the chief made a kind of choking sound. Then she said, “Thank Milly for me.” Her voice was a little odd, but he supposed he hadn’t committed a major gaffe. She wasn’t angry. He’d ask Milly about it later.

  Chief Antonini took a sip of her drink and waved a thank you to Milly at the bar. Then she said, “Ferrus tells me you’re a very good observer of Terrans.”

  “Not quite good enough. I think I offended you just now and I’m not sure how.”

  “That would require a complicated explanation. Suffice it for now that you didn’t offend me but telling another Terran the same thing might offend him or her.” She turned up her mouth again.

  “You can show your teeth,” Gemmy said. “I don’t take it for belligerence.”

  She did. Many of them. Then she said, “Let me get my business done first, then I’ll explain as best I can.”

  “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” Gemmy sat back on his haunches and waited for her to speak.

  “You know the Mopelling delegation is coming in tomorrow. They stay for two days, until the Belva Ann Lockwood arrives. We’ll be escorting the delegation to Terra, while their equivalent of Security escorts our Terran delegation back to Mopell.”

  She seemed to expect him to say something. “Yes.” he said.

  “You also know that there are any number of Terrans, Glaucuscans—perhaps even Mopellings, for all I know—who would prefer to disrupt relations between Terra and Mopell.”

  “I know. I don’t understand that, but I know.”

  Her mouth turned down. “I don’t understand it either, Gemmy. But my job is to protect against such disruptions.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “You can keep your eye open. Tell me if you see anything suspicious.”

  “I don’t know what that means: suspicious.” He added hastily, “I know the dictionary definition. But—to me—so much of what another species does is so mysterious I could easily misread it.”

  “Let me give you some categories I’d consider suspicious in these circumstances.... Has anyone been asking a lot of questions about the Mopelling delegation, for instance? Have you caught tourists in rooms that are usually off limits to anybody but the staff? Aha!” She leaned forward so abruptly that Gemmy, startled, rose to his feet and took a full step back.

  “Sony,” she said. She leaned back, slowly so as not to startle him a second time, and said, “But you have seen something that fits the criteria, haven’t you!”

  Gemmy sat down again. “I’m not sure.”

  “Tell me,” she said. “Let me decide.”

  Reluctantly, he told her about the Terran with the familiar smeller and the toy rabbits. She listened intently, only interrupting him once. To his surprise, she croaked—in a higher, more melodious register th
an the male Terran had—when he described the ‘skipping’ and how it had made him feel.

  “I understand,” she said. “The first time my son pulled himself to his feet to take his first staggering steps, I was terrified. That first walk was beyond precarious and well into hair-raising.” She gave him a long look. “You had to get to your feet moments after you were born, did you not?”

  “Yes, a child who doesn’t, who can’t, will starve to death. Well, not anymore,” he added quickly, seeing her eyes widen. “Now there are ways to help a gillanter—an ‘unable to stand’—but for a long time gillanter simply died.”

  She saddened at that. Gemmy could feel it. Then she showed him how newborn Terrans were cradled to be fed, and she said again, “To watch a baby Terran learn to walk is one of the most frightening experiences any parent could go through.” Her shoulders made a strange motion—a quick shiver that Gemmy had seen associated with bad memories—then she took another sip of her drink.

  “So that’s it,” she said. “Then he took his rabbits and went away.”

  “Only one rabbit. He gave me one of them to remember the funny bit by.”

  “That was very nice of him.”

  From her expression, Gemmy got the idea she didn’t think it was nice at all. He said as much.

  “I’m sorry. I do find that suspicious behavior. I’d like to see that rabbit, if I might?”

  “I really can’t leave the bar when it’s this busy,” Gemmy said.

  She waved a negligent extremity. A few moments later she’d called back the Security robot and Gemmy gave it permission to bring the toy rabbit from his room. While they waited, Gemmy saw to a few other customers in need and refreshed the drinking pond for the Gillspuns. Then he returned to the security chief’s table and sat back on his haunches again. She showed her teeth—and explained to him the rather peculiar ramifications of Milly’s remark about the “hot stuff.”

  He thought he understood it well enough that he wouldn’t make the same gaffe again and he said as much.

  Chief Antonini watched him for a long moment—very thoughtfully, if he judged correctly. Then she said, “You don’t think this Terran of the familiar nose is dangerous. Why not?”