Another Girl, Another Planet Read online

  “Yes, it was my idea,” he said, taking a deep drag on his second cigarette. “I had seen the rogue robots in action. I wanted to keep an eye on them, but nothing subversive happened. However, as the androids became more life-like on the Moon, they began to, as you Americans say, creep people out. And the Moon began to attract a genuine immigrant population looking for opportunity. So all the robots and androids were then moved to Mars.”

  “And you followed.”

  “And I followed.”

  I scratched my chin with my fingertips. “So where does Tesla come into all this?”

  Lielischkies plopped the cigarette in an ashtray and planted both hands firmly, palms down, on his desk.

  “Tesla was founded on the stolen technology obtained as a result of the infiltration of the Cuban manufacturing facility,” he said emphatically. “You didn’t think the Soviets were going to let such a good opportunity go to waste, did you? Our robots were not quite as sophisticated as the American ones. Kurland was a student of robotic technology at Caltech, and a dedicated follower of ours. He was actually more ideologically pure than most of the Soviet leaders. He’s proved to be a great asset. He’s headed the state-controlled company ever since.”

  I looked him in the eye. “So how much control does the state have over him nows?”

  Lielischkies picked up the cigarette and sucked in smoke through his pursed lips. “Not much anymore. You Americans, since you took over the base administration, have let him have too loose a rein. The situation deteriorated under Governor Wilder, although I heard that Mark Davis-Seale had pressured him to start some kind of crackdown and demand some accountability. But Wilder was distracted and Davis-Seale took sick. Nothing came of it.”

  “A feckless governor, no lieutenant governor, an incapacitated executive assistant, sounds like he’s had it his way for some time,” I said. “So neither side knows what the son-of-a-bitch is really up to.”

  He nodded.

  “Would he have tried to give Wilder a heart attack on purpose?”

  “I think it was more that he kept Wilder pacified, although who knows his devious ways,” said Lielischkies.

  “When did Davis-Seale leave Mars?”

  Lielischkies gave me a level gaze. “Who said he left?”

  “Well, didn’t he?”

  “He left his job.” Lielischkies exhaled. “He didn’t leave Mars. He’s in hospice. He’s dying of rubacosis.”

  I tried not to seem too startled.

  “Red Lung? I thought that only struck construction workers? Isn’t that one of the things using robots for construction was supposed to avoid?”

  “Yes, but he exposed himself because of some clandestine activities.”

  “I hadn’t heard of this at all,” I said. “For a place that leaks secrets like a sieve, that’s a surprise.”

  “That’s because hardly anyone knows the truth. I do, because if he actually went off planet, I’d know. He didn’t, and I know where he is,” he said, crushing the cigarette butt in the ashtray.

  “Can you take me to him?”

  He looked up and smiled thinly. “Let’s see how your meeting goes today with Kurland.”

  I had to laugh. “How do you know I’m meeting with Kurland?”

  He smiled broadly.

  “You’re a wise old German fox!” I said, and then continued.

  “What about androids being used as sexual surrogates? How much do you know about that?”

  Lielischkies sat up in his chair.

  “Prostitution is the oldest profession—what’s the deal with the sex trade here?” I added.

  He winced. “Of course there is a small but busy contingent of whores—male and female. Why do you ask?” He lit up another cigarette. “This conversation is completely off the record, correct?”

  “Are you kidding? I was never here.”

  “Why do you ask about whores, then?” he asked, making it sound unimportant instead of dirty.

  I ran through all the events relating to Desiree. He looked intrigued. When I finished he looked thoughtful.

  “You are asking me whether anyone could be sold into white slavery and brought here against their will? No, absolutely not. I would never allow it. The risks are too great. There are some young ladies who come here under false pretenses, but of their own free will.”

  He smiled sardonically. “You realize this, of course, does not include secret agents working for either government.”

  “Right, the girls you call sparrows.”

  “We have men, also. There are homosexuals here.”

  I must have looked startled.

  “Sorry to deflate your American myth of virility,” he said. “Although you seem to be a red-blooded American male.”

  “I’m very much a single man.”

  “Who’s banging the Italian attaché.”

  “Jesus, can’t anyone keep a secret in this place?”

  “Sometimes it’s like a small berg.” He waggled a finger. “Hey, if Antonaz finds out you’re cheating on her, she’ll hog- tie and hang you from the ceiling before neutering you. She may cut you loose, but don’t you play fast and loose with her. That’s useful advice from one man to another.”

  “I’m not whoring around,” I said.

  “You’re looking for your old girlfriend, for God’s sake!”

  I rapped the table top—gently. “It’s not the way you think.”

  “How is it then?”

  “Listen, we broke up, but it was my fault. In fact, I feel guilty about the whole affair, and if she is in some kind of trouble, and there is any way I can help, I want to.”

  He looked at me somewhat puzzled. “Well, I’m positive she’s not here. Why not put up wanted posters and see what happens?”

  “That’s not a bad idea!”

  “I was joking!” he snapped.

  “I’m not,” I said. “I had Andy Coltingham pick up the missing persons bulletin from the NYPD. I don’t see why it can’t be copied and distributed here.”

  “That’s never been done before,” he said.

  “There’s a first time for everything,” I said.

  “That will raise a lot of questions,” he said. “Like why you’re looking for someone kidnapped in New York on Mars.”

  “Mars is just another space colony, like the Moon now,” I said. “Didn’t they find that airline hijacker on the Moon? D.B. Cooper?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Well, if that young woman is on Mars, I want to know it, also, because my job is to keep track of everyone who comes and goes,” he said. “If something is amiss, I want to know.” He smiled. “I think we have what you Capitalists call a joint venture.”

  “Good. As President Anderson says, “‘There continues to be a great deal of mutual cooperation between the NATO and the Warsaw Pact nations.’”

  I stood up and shook his hand. “Thanks for your insight,” I added. “Remember, if I end up being the point man, I need you for the clean-up.”

  “You’re using American jargon I don’t understand.”

  “I’m going to see Kurland. The first member of a military or police unit who enters a building or site usually attracts the first fire,” I said. “If I come away full of holes—figuratively speaking—you can follow through later yourself.”

  “At least you seem to understand what you getting into,” he said ominously. “Be wary you aren’t shot in the back by your own troops.”

  “Oh, I got Coltingham and Mattern’s number. They are going to be very uncomfortable,” I said. “I want them to be. I have a low tolerance for crooked cops. That’s one place where government needs to work right—law enforcement.”

  “One final word of advice,” said Lielischkies. “Be careful with the questions you ask. They will tell Kurland how much you know, even if he refuses to answer truthfully.”

  “Of course. From what I’ve heard, I expect him to stonewall everything and admit nothing. But there’s a lot I can learn from the encounter. People can�
��t hide what comes to mind when you look them in the eye.”

  “I’m surprised at such subtlety in a Westerner,” he said. “Come to me if you ever want to defect.” He stubbed out his third cigarette.

  “I’ll remember that. Well, as Jackie Gleason used to say, ‘And away we go!’”

  He looked puzzled as I left.

  Chapter Twelve

  When I got back to the office, I went straight to Thompson and closed the door behind me.

  He looked up at me from behind his desk.

  “What’s on your mind, David? You look distracted.”

  I pulled a chair over and sat down across from him.

  “I need a legal review. I’m thinking it might be necessary to propose an emergency emendation to the operating guidelines for robotic use in the colony,” I said. “Specifically banning the use of androids as social escorts and sexual surrogates. There seems to be a loophole in the current guidelines.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand. “Don’t tell me it isn’t going on. I was in a restaurant last night and many of the girls there were really androids. I could tell.”

  “There’s nothing in the regulations about using androids as companions or escorts,” he said, “if that’s the loophole you are referring to.”

  “Androids have infiltrated uses that should be reserved for people, and you know as well as I do there’s a continuum of escorts and maids and such that ends with sex workers in people. Apparently androids have become so pervasive here they’re filling the same roles.”

  “Don’t forget take-out,” he said with a slight smile.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “I know you’ve heard by now how Governor Wilder died,” he said. “The android he was with? She was making a delivery.”

  “Ah, that’s also done back home,” I said. “Chinese? Pizza?”

  He tugged at his tie to loosen it a bit.

  “Mexican food. She works out of the Nogales Cantina. One of the managers gets a cut of the action.”

  “That’s a good example of an entry level job that should be reserved for a person,” I said, putting on my bureaucratic hat. “It would be ridiculous to have unemployment on a space colony.”

  He tried to suppress a smile. “Did you just say ‘entry level’?”

  I waved my hands in frustration at him. “You know what I mean!”

  “It’s unskilled labor.”

  “It’s against the spirit if not the letter of the law,” I said. “Robots are seen as a necessary evil, but they are not supposed to take the place of people in jobs that can be done by people. And they are certainly not supposed to be put in situations where they can be mistaken for people or act like people and cause problems.”

  “I’m not aware of any problems,” he said, regaining his composure.

  “I wasn’t aware that the development of androids has reached the degree where they can’t be told from real people,” I said. “But in the past few years Tesla seems to have bridged that ‘uncanny valley.’”

  I had printed off a rough version of what I had proposed, and he glanced at it.

  “You want to know whether you can make this amendment?” he asked. “I’m sure you can, at least temporarily. It might be subjected to an injunction, though, unless you can show there is a clear and present emergency.”

  He got up from behind his desk and went over to a bookshelf. “Quite frankly, although using androids for sex is sleazy, it’s not an emergency.”

  He flipped through some pages and then stopped and ran his finger down a page. “I’m sure you can do it, but like I said, it would be subject to a court review, and since you’d be stepping on Kurland’s toes, I’m sure he’d move quickly.”

  “But if I put forward the amendment, I’ll send the verbiage for what will be ultimately sent to Earth for review and approval, correct?”

  “Yes, if you get past an injunction here.” He looked thoughtful. “I see where you are going with this, you want to set the agenda, determine the language.”

  I rubbed my knuckles. “Then everything that happens, any changes, play off my start.”

  He closed the book and gave me a stern look. “How serious are you about this?”

  “Right now, I’m ambivalent. I just want to know I have this arrow in my quiver.”

  He nodded to me. “Yes, as interim administrator, you do.”

  “I’m meeting with Kurland in a little while, and while the ostensible reason for the visit is that piece of scrap that caused the dome breach at the Hilton, I’m very interested in the role his androids play in the colony.”

  Thompson sat back down. “Do you want me to come? I think I maybe should.”

  “No, this is an open and shut case. Tesla can be fined for illegal dumping. I’m dragging along Coltingham and Mattern. It’s purely a police matter. I’m using it as a wedge to get in to see Kurland.”

  “Let me know if you want to propose that amendment somewhere down the line,” Thompson said. “I’ll help draft it.”

  “Of course, that’s what you do. Thanks. You’ve been helpful.”

  He pursed his lips and smiled a little. “I try. That’s my role, to back up the administration.” He looked me in the eye. “I must admit, it’s nice to be needed. Your predecessor never asked for my advice.”

  “My predecessor didn’t seem to have done much of anything, and letting things slide got us in this spot.” I stood up. “I’ll leave your door open on the way out.”

  He smiled and nodded before going back to what was on his desk.

  When I left his office, Sherry grabbed me. “They’re ready for you at Airlock Three for the overland trip to the Tesla factory,” she said. “Coltingham, Mattern, and the android officer are here.”

  “Ah, crap. I forgot it’s isolated away from the dome.”

  “You ever go outside before in a pressurized suit?”

  “Nope.”

  “The airlock attendant will give you a brief training session. Ask lots of questions, it never hurts.”

  “Thanks for the advice, I will.”

  Normally, anyone assigned to an off-world posting by the space administration would have received training in how to use a pressure suit, but since I was a “fast-track” assignment and left in a rush, I hadn’t.

  All the way there, I wondered what my first experience in a pressure suit would be like.

  * * *

  The constabulary staff was already in the airlock or outside when I arrived. The attendant opened a locker with a suit. “Off with the shoes, coat, tie, and shirt,” he said. “The rest can stay.”

  “How dangerous is it if there’s a leak or break? I mean, we’re in Melas Chasma, this is the place with the highest air pressure on the planet.”

  “It still is only five percent of Earth’s atmosphere,” he said. “If you were to drop to external air pressure, you would not be able to take a breath and refill your lungs after your first exhalation.”

  “Wonderful,” I said, rather sarcastically.

  He handed me a clipboard with instructions. “Read all this and sign it.”

  “They’re waiting for me outside.”

  “They’re loading up some piece of trash onto the ground tractor. They will be a little while; it has to be secured.”

  I stepped into the bottom half of the suit as he began to fidget with valves.

  “I’ll give you a hand here to help save time,” he said. “I can tell from your look you’ve never been in one of these before.”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  He nodded.

  This model suit was designed for short trips on the surface, of an hour or less, and was relatively stripped down and simplified. It looked like a standard decontamination suit back home on Earth, but with obviously stiffer material and stronger seams. The helmet was like an astronaut’s, designed to deal with the glare of the sun in the thin Martian atmosphere.

  I tugged on the suit and wiggled my way into it, a bit self-conscious. Th
e rubberized fabric was both stiff and smooth at the same time. I put on the jacket.

  When I got it on and zipped it up to my neck, the attendant began to check me to make sure everything was secure.

  “You did fine, it’s pretty straightforward,” he said. “Anyone with half a brain can put one on. It’s not nearly as complicated as an astronaut’s outfit.”

  He reached over and picked up a pair of heavy boots. “Now, when you put these on, be sure to secure all the snaps. You don’t want oxygen leaking out from the top of your boots. It’s the most common thing people mess up.”

  After I put on my boots and he checked them, he went over to a cabinet and grabbed a helmet. He held it out to me. “I know it’s probably a stupid question, but I have to ask: You’re not claustrophobic, are you?”

  “Tell you the truth, I really don’t know,” I said. “I’ve been in some pretty tight spots, but I’ve never worn a suit with a helmet. Let’s find out.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t get any pressure suit training before boarding the ship here?”

  “I was fast-tracked and left in a rush,” I said. “I guess I fell through the cracks. Nobody asked me.”

  “That’s ignorant. If there had been any kind of decompression on the way here, you would have suffocated.”

  “I didn’t think of it myself; this is my first trip off-planet.”

  “They’re getting sloppy back home,” he muttered.

  “Well, no harm done. Now is as good a time for me to learn as any.”

  He smiled as I lowered the helmet on my head, and began to fidget with the connections.

  “Here, let me help you with those,” he said. “It will go faster. Look over there to see what I am doing.”

  He gently grabbed me by the torso and turned me so I could see myself in a large metallic mirror on the wall.

  “Make sure to grab a handout some time so you can read up and remind yourself of all the steps we’re taking,” he said. “It will help you the next time you do this.”

  The last thing he did was drop the oxygen pack on my back, screw in the hoses, and give me a tap.

  “You’re good to go,” he said.

  Despite the simplicity of a pressure suit, it still took 15 minutes to complete the process.