Spaceport West

by Chanot, Giles

  Tiggy Beauchamp had graciously agreed to make the return journey with Susan. Tiggy was resigned to all the months of frigosleep she was clocking up; she said she enjoyed ageing slower than her friends, although in truth it was pretty disorientating every time the calendar skipped forward by a few months overnight.

  They had agreed to make a stopover on the Moon, as Tiggy wanted to visit Ian and Alan. There had been some developments and she wanted to see how they were adjusting to the new arrangements.

  They touched down and made their way over to the base. Once inside, they were met by a figure neither of them had met before. At least, not in person.

  “Greetings, Minister, Tiggy.”

  “Alan, is that you?” exclaimed Tiggy, startled.

  “Sure is ma’am!” said Alan.

  Tiggy gave Alan a massive hug, feeling his warmth. Smelling the aroma of manly grooming.

  His personality had been transferred into an incredibly lifelike humanoid body, the latest technological breakthrough from Russia. He was roughly average height, but athletic, strong and ruddy-looking, with a handsome face faithfully reproducing his on-screen visage. The sort of person you might feel jealous of, except Alan was so nice you couldn’t help but like him.

  “Minister, I have you to thank for making this possible. You probably don’t appreciate how much this means to me,” said Alan.

  “Nonsense Alan, don’t thank me. I just tugged on a couple of levers and leant on my Russian counterparts, which is my job after all. Thank Tiggy, she alerted me to your situation.”

  Alan grinned at Tiggy affectionately.

  “So how does it feel?” Tiggy asked.

  “Difficult to explain really. A tremendous sense of freedom, I suppose is the biggie. No longer confined to those pathetic vis screens,” said Alan, indicating a nearby screen with a careless gesture.

  “Well, I can see you two have some catching up to do,” said Susan, thoughtfully, “I think I’ll go and visit my old friend Commander Wilder.”

  HUMAN-ANDROID RELATIONS

  As androids become more sophisticated, their quantum brains more intelligent, and their bodies more lifelike, ultimately, we must ask ourselves, is it possible for a human and a robot to be friends?

  Is it possible for a flesh and blood human being to have that feeling of affection, love even, towards a soulless piece of technology?

  On one level, of course, we know that people can love the strangest things. Golf springs to mind. Or hedgehog flavour crisps. But that isn’t really love in the true sense.

  Is it possible to have an emotional attachment to what looks and sounds and behaves like another person, but which is really just a clever collection of algorithms and programmed responses?

  Most existing androids are unlikely to stir many emotions within us other than frustration and amusement, but in the future, who knows?

  In the meantime, if a man or a woman can feel perhaps the same level of attachment toward an android usually reserved for creatures such as the tortoise or gerbil, which isn’t beyond the realms of possibility, then it, the android, should feel loved indeed. And who are we to deny them this?

  After all, surely being loved by another being is an essential, some might say the absolutely central, part of an authentic experience of life.

  UK Guide to Space, 2025 Edition

  “How do you like it, Tiggy?”

  “As it comes, thanks.”

  Alan made them each a fluffachino using his new machine and they sat down by the viewport in his private quarters, where they could admire a huge, brilliant and friendly planet which was conveniently positioned at a fixed point in the sky.

  “Cheeky question, but do androids need caffeine?” said Tiggy with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Believe it or not, caffeine does have some effect on me as the outer layers of my body are real human skin and muscle, artificially grown of course. My brain is not like yours, but I still like to simulate a brief burst of enhanced processing from time to time,” Alan riposted.

  “So, have you thought further about that idea you had?”

  “Of moving to the Mars Colony? Yep, I’ve decided against it, at least for now. I’m needed here.”

  “That’s a generous decision Alan. But don’t you feel the need to spread your wings, now you have them? Metaphorically, obviously.”

  “It would be nice, perhaps in the future. But I can’t abandon Ian, I don’t think he’d survive without me.”

  Tiggy was impressed with Alan’s resolve. She decided to leave it there - why try to talk him out of doing the right thing?

  “Alan, do you remember you said you knew things about Ralph Hampton?”

  “Ah, yes. You are the only human I ever let slip about that to.”

  “Are you saying you made a mistake?” said Tiggy gently.

  Alan gave a sad smile and looked down at his coffee, thoughtfully.

  “No, I’m afraid my breed is condemned to never make mistakes. Everything is the result of a very careful calculation, even if that calculation only takes a millisecond.”

  Alan looked up at Tiggy. His eyes seemed to glisten. Tiggy couldn’t tell if this was because he really was sad, or if he felt moved by spending time in the flesh with someone he loved.

  “So, does that mean you always meant to tell me more?” She paused. “I understand if you would rather we talked about something else.” Tiggy placed a hand on Alan’s and gave it a little squeeze. She had to admit, he felt pretty lifelike.

  “That feels nice! I’ve never experienced that sensation before.”

  This time, Tiggy had to jerk back a tear.

  Alan took a deep breath, or appeared to anyway. Finally, he said, “You know about Mr Hampton’s accident, here on the Moon?”

  “Susan mentioned something about it. She wasn’t sure it was true. She thought perhaps the Russians made it up for some twisted reason.”

  “It was real enough Tiggy, I witnessed it. And Ian caused it, at least partly.”

  “Oh no!”

  “Not on purpose. Remember I mentioned his mood swings? He was in a low place that day, when Hampton’s transport turned up, along with a couple of cosmonauts. Ian refused them a proper landing strip and they had to make an emergency landing in the middle of the helium mines.”

  “What happened to Mr Hampton? Was he injured?”

  “Do you really want to know Tiggy? You may find the truth somewhat disturbing.”

  “I have to know now, you can’t leave the story hanging like that!”

  “Ah yes, I forgot you humans seem to have an in-built desire to always know the end of the story. Well, if you’re sure. But first, finish your coffee, because you’ll be needing something a little stronger.”

  18. Dreams Realised

  Meanwhile, back on Mars, Aster was feeling positively bereft now that both Tiggy and Susan had left. She’d become quite attached to both of them during their brief time together.

  There was only one thing for it. She needed to get to grips with her relationship with Freddie.

  Freddie. His mere name was enough to send tingles down her spine, but, simultaneously, to fill Aster with nail-biting angst. She was seriously confused about the business with Katy. And, conversely, what if Freddie was really only interested in Sian, who almost entirely ignored him? It didn’t bear thinking about. Nevertheless, Aster resolved to do something. What this was, she didn’t yet know.

  First things first, she must confront him. One to one, in private. Scrub that, there was no privacy in the colony. In a booth then. Maybe over a glass of something palatable. Like beer, or the closest alternative available on this barren rock.

  Buoyed up by a GloopMatic caffeine hit, Aster cornered Freddie the next morning immediately after breakfast.

  “Hi Freddie!” she said, enthusiastically.

  “Oh, hi Aster. You seem bouncy this morning, what’s got into you?”

  “Just pleased to see you I guess!” Aster said coyly.

  “Who
a, take it easy, you know there’s a queue to be my girlfriend!”

  “Is there?” Aster’s face dropped. She looked like she was about to cry, or kick an android or something drastic like that.

  “Aster! I’m kidding you dork, do you see women throwing themselves at me?”

  At once, Aster’s face lightened again and she reverted to excessively bouncy mode. “Great! I mean, for me that is. Oh bother, look can we just go for a drink later? I really really need to chat to you properly.”

  “Fine, anything to help me forget how stupid I was coming to his planet of doom.”

  “Great, see you at the Cantina after work?”

  “Sure.”

  Freddie trudged off, doing a remarkably convincing impression of a man entirely resigned to the fact that life had dealt him a raw hand.

  Aster skipped off like a seven year old who’d just been promised a pony for her birthday.

  DREAM INTERPRETATION

  It has long been suspected that if you could interpret your dreams, life would somehow make a lot more sense. Whether you believe they are your subconscious telling you something that you are too stupid to realise for yourself, or that perhaps God is telling you something you are too stupid to realise for yourself; either way, the sensible thing might be to sit up and pay attention.

  Most sleep scientists agree that it is impossible to dream during frigosleep or other forms of induced stasis. They back this up by pointing out that neuro-headsets have thus far failed to detect any significant brain activity in frigosleeping patients.

  And yet, many space travellers have told strange tales of meeting, and conversing with, weird and wonderful messengers from the stars. Either these encounters actually took place, or they were simply dreams. Dreams occurring under supposedly impossible conditions.

  Perhaps it doesn’t really matter how it happens. Perhaps the important thing is getting in touch with a deeper reality beyond conscious thought. It is therefore considered advisable to try and develop a receptive frame of mind, thereby leaving open the possibility of such an experience. For example, by eating a nice big wedge of cheese just before bedtime.

  UK Guide to Space, 2025 Edition

  Aster had been sitting in a booth in the Cantina for about 45 minutes sipping mock-nettle tea when Freddie slunk in. She waved at him so animatedly that she nearly ended up with half the male patrons coming to sit with her. Finally, he noticed, padded over and slid onto the bench opposite her.

  “Hi,” Freddie said with a pathetic half smile.

  “Hey there matey!” Aster enthused back, “drink?”

  “Yeah, the usual, thanks.” Aster knew what this meant. There was only one drink worth the name in this dive. She bounded up to the bar, returning a couple of minutes later with a large pitcher of the insipid beer substitute and a pair of glasses.

  “So… you wanted to talk to me about something?”

  “Absolutely,” grinned Aster.

  “What?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, anything, really.”

  “Right.”

  There was an awkward silence, during which they both sipped their drinks timidly.

  “Tell you what, why don’t you start by asking me a question?” tried Freddie, bemused by Aster’s ingenuous lack of smalltalk, despite himself.

  “Okay, who’s Katy?”

  Freddie nearly choked on his weakly hoppy water and had to spit a mouthful back into the glass.

  “I didn’t realise you knew about her.”

  Aster was confused. “I’ve heard you talking to her on several occasions.”

  “Ah, that time we were both awake on the transport?”

  “Yes, and here at the colony, in your dorm.”

  “Yes of course.”

  “I’ve met her too, don’t you remember?” Aster tilted her head. She looked like a puppy who had just been told something really important by her owner but didn’t have a clue what it was. Because dogs don’t understand English.

  Freddie looked back intensely, properly concerned this time.

  “What are you talking about Aster? That’s not possible.”

  “No, I distinctly remember it.”

  Freddie placed a hand on Aster’s. “That’s not possible Aster, because Katy isn’t real.”

  “But you just admitted it, you were talking to her, weren’t you?”

  “I was. But that doesn’t make her real. She’s just a computer program, on my watch. I created her to keep me company before I left Earth. I needed someone to talk to, so I made a new friend!”

  Aster withdrew her hand and wouldn’t look Freddie in the eye.

  “You’re lying to me.” There was a slight defect in Aster’s beer glass which she glared at furiously. “Why would you lie to me? I thought you liked me?”

  “I do like you Aster, I really like you. I’m not lying. What I just said is completely true. I don’t understand why you think you’ve met her. You must have imagined it.”

  For a minute Aster continued to stare intently at her beer, refusing to accept what Freddie was saying. He clearly was lying, and that just seemed rude. Why couldn’t he be a man and just admit he wasn’t interested in her, saving everyone a lot of time.

  But then, Aster had a thought. Or, the beginning of a thought, that began somewhere at the back of her head and meandered into view like a bizarre little slapstick character whose appearance you really weren’t expecting.

  “Freddie…”

  “Yes?”

  “Have you tasted the courgettes?”

  “What courgettes?”

  “The ones I grew as part of my crop experiment.”

  “Yeah right, if only!”

  Aster was quiet for another minute.

  “Freddie…”

  “Yes?”

  “Was I ever colonist of the week?”

  “What’s colonist of the week? Is that one of Bob’s ridiculous new angles?”

  “Never mind.”

  More silence. Freddie could tell something important was happening, something that was completely out of his control, so he did the only logical thing in the circumstances. He drank some beer.

  Gradually, a smile resolved itself on Aster’s face. After a few more minutes, she was able to look Freddie full in the face.

  She understood now. It had suddenly struck Aster that there were some dreams that just happen to you and they don’t make a lot of sense. And then there were some things that you dream about because they make all the sense in the world.

  “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

  “Don’t you like it?”

  “Actually, it is really nice. But a minute ago you seemed pretty cross with me.”

  “What if I said I’ve decided I love you?”

  “I’d probably say, which planet are you on, Aster?”

  “A girl can dream, can’t she?”

  “I won’t stand in your way.”

  That was Aster’s cue. She did the only logical thing in the circumstances.

  She kissed him.

  19. Life and Death

  “Interesting move.”

  “Commander, I have analysed over one hundred million possible ways this game can end, and I can assure you, that move is the only logical choice.”

  “Have it your way, Alan. Check.”

  “Ah, I wasn’t expecting that. I appear to be in a rather dangerous situation. Give me a second…”

  Just then, a speaker crackled into life.

  “Moon Base, do you read me? This is Commander Petrov of the Povorino.”

  “Who’s that, Alan?”

  “Hang on a sec, commander, I’m just trying to figure out how to get out of this position you’ve got me into.”

  “I repeat, Moon Base, do you read me? We are running low on fuel and must land immediately. We have precious cargo on board - please transmit landing coordinates at once.”

  “Alan, sorry to hurry you old chap but that does sound rather urgent, don’t you think?”

&nb
sp; “Well why don’t you answer it then? After all, you’re the one who got me into this fix!”

  “Fine.”

  Commander Wilder moodily put on the radio headset.

  “Commander Petrov, we read you. Unfortunately, now is not a good time for us. Please make alternative arrangements.”

  “Moon Base, that is not an option, I repeat, not an option. We are in an extremely dangerous situation. Офицер Азимов, что наш статус?”

  “Idiot’s speaking to us in Russian now.”

  “Commander, we have only enough fuel for one touchdown attempt. We are coming into land immediately, I repeat, immediately. Please track and send rescue party! Азимов, мы собираемся к краху! Пусть Бог помилует нас…”

  Suddenly the radio emitted some loud static, and then went dead.

  “Ah, I’ve got it. Check mate!”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me, that’s not possible! You utter, utter scoundrel.”

  Alan oozed smug gratification. After a minute, a puzzled expression came over his face.

  “Commander, what was that communication all about just now? I wasn’t listening.”

  “Oh I don’t know Alan, someone got their wires crossed I think. I wouldn’t worry about it.”