Mark Tiedemann - Mirage

"A domestic."

"Exactly so."

Ariel remembered the designation, but had not seen one till now. She had been busy with the preparations for the Humadros-Eliton Conference and had skipped several inspections, so she was not surprised. She studied what remained of the head. "Do you have a catalogue image of this, Mr. Udal?"

"Um… yes, I think so…" He fumbled in his jacket pocket for a moment, clearly dismayed at her request. He fished out a disk and slipped it into her desk viewer. "This is the fourth act of vandalism in less than two weeks. Customers have stopped coming into the showroom, sales have dropped off precipitously, and now my staff is talking about leaving. They need the jobs, but they're afraid."

"You've contacted the police?" Ariel asked, knowing the answer already. The catalogue image appeared in the air alongside the first view. It showed a neat, smooth-bodied robot with a pleasantly-smiling approximation of a human face. Ariel felt a cold lump suddenly form behind her breastbone.

"Of course. The first time, a couple of inspectors came by, took statements. The second time, only one of them showed up. Same questions, same answers. The third instance, a uniformed patrol came, and this time, no one did." He shrugged elaborately. "Earthers. They don't care."

"This is a humaniform."

Udal frowned more deeply. "Well, of course. Domestics are always given a degree of-"

"You are aware of the guidelines concerning humaniforms on Earth?"

"It's not like they're actually robots. Just drones. Without positronics"

"The guidelines are clear about drones, too. "

"Well-"

"Terrans react poorly to robots that look too human. To any machine that appears to mimic human life. They find it offensive."

"But these have sold quite well! Our advance orders"

"It should not have been in your catalogue at all, Mr. Udal." Ariel shook her head and sighed. "I've been a little lapse in my rounds, Mr. Udal, but you should have registered this with my office. I would have told you it would not have been allowed for import. I'm surprised you got it past Customs." She looked at him. "How did you get it past Customs?"

"They didn't challenge," Udal said quickly. "Look, if my customers want something, who am I to argue with them? Terrans ought to know their own laws, they certainly ought to know their own prejudices. These units were ordered by Terrans!"

"A certain class of Terran, yes, I'm sure. But those people are also looked upon with suspicion by the average Earther. Wealthy clientele will buy something like this as much to insult what they perceive as lower class citizens as to have the benefit of a state-of-the-art machine. There are clandestine shops where you can buy a new body for a standard drone and turn it into a humaniform. I assure you the people vandalizing your merchandise are not of the same sort as those buying it."

Udal winced, his eyes dancing briefly, avoiding contact with her. "Earthers!" he repeated, making the word sound vile. "Why don't we have these sorts of problems elsewhere?"

Ariel bit back a response regarding the prejudices of Spacers. It would do no good here, dealing with this problem. Udal would go over her head, disregard her advice, and only complicate an already awkward situation. She covered her reaction by studying the image of the drone. It did not look very dronelike. The brain casing was certainly large enough for a positronic brain.

"This is a retrofit, isn't it?" she asked suddenly. "An older model..," She tapped commands on her terminal and another projection opened alongside the catalogue image. The system began looking for a match. In a few seconds, the kaleidoscope of robot types stopped on one that could easily be the twin of the drone. "A DP-P7. I thought it looked familiar. These are expressly forbidden here."

"It's not the same model, I assure you-"

"Any Terran with a catalogue and no real understanding of what they're seeing wouldn't understand the difference. Were any other models damaged in this attack?"

Udal looked to one side. "No."

"Your warehouse is in the Convention Center District, isn't it? I think a visit from my staff is in order." Ariel narrowed her eyes. "Mr. Udal, if I find out that you're importing through the black market-"

"You're supposed to be our advocate here!" Udal shot back. "I am a legitimate dealer with a legitimate grievance. The local authorities don't seem particularly interested and I have come to you as a fellow Auroran."

"I sympathize, Mr. Udal, but what do want me to do?"

Udal relaxed and smiled, his teeth brilliant in their Auroran perfection. The change was startling. "I understand you will be sitting in on the upcoming trade talks Senator Clar Eliton is chairing. I'm told Ambassador Galiel Humadros herself is coming. If you could bring it to their attention that these fanatic assaults on property have the potential to derail any progress they might achieve, it would help a great deal. Frankly, any more of these vandalisms and I may have to pull up stakes and go home. My insurance premiums are high enough as it is, but"

"I'm flattered that you think so highly of my position here, but I'm only the commerce liaison for the embassy. My function is purely advisory-"

"Then by all means, advise. Besides, you underestimate your potential. You're also an attachй from the Calvin Institute, and the Calvin Institute is respected even by the Earthers. A word from you-"

Ariel's com beeped. "Excuse me, Mr. Udal." She touched the contact. "Yes?"

"Ariel, you better check the subetheric," Ariel's aide, Hofton, said.

"In a few minutes-"

"Now."

Annoyed, Ariel gave Udal an apologetic shrug and turned on her set. Across the room, an image formed a meter or so out from the wall projector.

The scene confused her for a moment. Then she recognized Union Station, except… there were bodies on the floor, people huddled here and there, red stains on the platform where the reception for Ambassador Humadros was to take place…

Udal sucked in his breath sharply. "Is there sound?"

Ariel fumbled for the controls.

"-lice have informed us that so far none of the perpetrators have been apprehended," a reporter was saying. "The death toll so far is ten, including Senator Clar Eliton and members of his staff. Repeated requests for explanations on how weapons got past the security systems have so far received no satisfactory answers. I repeat: Senator Clar Eliton and the Auroran Ambassador Galiel Humadros have been murdered, as well as several members of their respective staffs, in an assault by a number of armed assailants who have all managed to escape. None of the security measures supposedly in place operated, either afterward or apparently before the assault."

"They didn't… I… have to make some calls…" Udal plucked his recording from Ariel's desk player and headed for the door. "Thank you for your time, Ms. Burgess. I'll let you know…"

"Mr. Udal."

He stopped and looked at her, face open with shock.

"Warehouse those drones until we can clear this up. I don't want to see any more of these on the open market."

Udal sighed, exasperated, but nodded. He glanced at the subetheric again.

She watched him hurry out the door, his face locked in an expression that she thought must mirror her own. She looked back at the subetheric broadcast, at the aftermath of the slaughter.

"Here again is a replay of the scene that took place not fifteen minutes ago in the main gallery of Union Station."

Ariel turned the sound down and touched the com. "Hofton, get me Setaris at the embassy, soon as possible."

She watched the blackclad assailants charge from the midst of the spectators, firing wildly, people dropping terrified, wounded, and killed-unable to accept the actuality of it. This had to be a drama, a hoax, a piece of fiction, not a news report. History contained accounts of such acts, but they never happened anymore.