Michael Kube-McDowell - Odyssey

She nodded reluctantly. “You’re right. Let’s hide it.”

At Katherine’s insistence, they left the key right there where they were, in the leftmost hole of the pattern.

“It’s going to be a harder climb up than it is down,” Derec warned as they started down again.

“For them, too,” she said.

Freed from his burden, Derec could more readily keep pace, and the rest of the descent turned into an undeclared race. But the race ended prematurely when, sneaking a peek over her shoulder to see how much farther they had to go, Katherine saw something that made her want to start climbing upward again.

“Reception committee,” she hissed, reaching out and seizing Derec by the sleeve.

Letting go with his right hand, Derec twisted at the waist and looked down. At ground level, a hundred meters below their feet, a dozen figures stood in a half-circle. All twelve faces were tipped upward, looking back at him.

A happy grin spread slowly across Derec’s face. “But look who’s on the committee,” he exulted. “They’re robots!”

Katherine stole another glance down. “Considering recent history, I don’t know why that’s such good news,” she said.

“It means that this has to be a Spacer world-”

“Rockliffe was a Spacer station,” she said.

“-which means that our biggest problem from here on out is going to be bureaucratic red tape.”

“Optimist.”

“You’ll see,” he said, starting down.

The only response came from one of the robots waiting below. “Please move slowly and exercise all possible care,” it called up to them. “Climbing the Compass Tower is a dangerous activity.”

Eager to hasten the meeting, Derec skipped the last few steps, swinging out and jumping down to the ground. As Katherine clambered down behind him, he turned to face the robots.

Several were already leaving. Derec presumed that they were medical specialists who had been there in case of a fall, plus perhaps a few riggers who could have climbed up the wall to help them. Their skills no longer needed, they were efficiently moving on to other tasks.

The robots that remained were similar in appearance to each other, but not identical variations on a theme. One had a seemingly purposeless swatch of blue enamel above the right ear, a second brilliant green optical scanner, still another sensor mesh wrapped around its skull like a headband.

“What’s your name?” Derec asked, singling one of them out.

The robot took a step forward. “I am M-3323.”

“Very well. M-3323, take me-us-to the city manager.”

“The city as presently constituted does not have a manager,” the robot replied. “What is your name, please?”

“Derec,” he said. “David Derec. But-”

“And I’m Katherine Burgess,” she said, stepping forward. “Look, we don’t need to talk to the person on top, no matter what you call them-city manager, king, president, god. We need a place to see to our hygienic needs-something with a shower and a Personal. While we’re busy with that, you can arrange a meeting for us with someone who can help us with our other problems. Is there any problem with that?”

“No, Katherine,” M-3323 said. “Arrangements are now being made. If you will follow me, I will lead you to the appropriate facilities.”

Mercifully, the house they were taken to was less than a minute’s walk away. It was nestled between two great six-sided towers like a child hiding amongst its mother’s skirts. The interior was startlingly new and pristine, as though the house had not only never been occupied, but never entered.

But the house contained everything they needed, including two Personals that opened off a room containing a futonlike sleeping platform. The three robots which had accompanied them inside waited downstairs, which afforded them an extra measure of privacy.

“There,” Katherine said, emerging from her Personal after twenty minutes. “More presentable?”

Derec rose from where he had been seated on the edge of the platform. “You’re very easy on the eyes.”

“A quaint expression,” she said, obviously pleased. “Do you have any idea where we are?”

“None whatsoever,” Derec confessed.

“But we’re on our way out of this,” she said with some anxiety. “I’m going to get to go home. You’re going to get to go find home.”

He held up crossed fingers.

“You promised me there’d be nothing more than red tape,” she said warningly.

“That was a prediction, not a promise.”

“Still stand behind your forecast?”

“Sure,” Derec said. “Let’s go start hacking through the tangle.”

M-3323 led them out of the house and guided them back the way they had come, up the street toward the great central tower. It was a strange little procession-a pair of robots in the lead, matching stride for stride-M-3323 walking between Derec and Katherine like a vigilant chaperone-another pair of robots trailing a few steps behind.

Were the extra robots an honor guard, bodyguards, or prison guards? The pair following silently behind bothered Derec the most. Before they had gone half a block, he glanced back over his shoulder to check on what they were doing. What he saw behind the robots-or, more to the point, what he did not see-made him do a double-take. The house they had just left was gone. The gap between the two towers which had flanked it had closed.

He shook his head and chided himself for foolishness. It must be the angle, he told himself. The house is set farther back than you realized. It’s there, between the towers. You just can’t see it. Then he remembered the grouping of icosahedrons he had seen, and then not seen, from the high plaza.

“Excuse me,” he said to Katherine and M-3323. “I’ll be right back.”

He ran back down the street until he had gone far enough that he should have been able to see the house, and then slowed to a walk. He could scarcely believe his eyes. The house was gone. The two towers now flanked an open courtyard.

He looked around wildly, wanting to believe that he had taken a wrong turn, that he was the victim of some sort of illusion. The house had been just what Katherine had asked for, and so conveniently located. Could they possibly have built it just for us, and then torn it down again?

It was an insane thought, and he did not want to deal with it just then. Demand-driven architecture-a modular structure that swapped whole buildings around like toy blocks or fabricated them from elemental forms-what kind of society was this? How could people live in a city like this?

With an effort, he tore himself away from the sight of the empty courtyard and found two of the escort robots standing two steps away behind him.

“Are you finished here, sir?” one asked politely.

He grunted. “Yeah, I’m finished.”

There was no keeping the troubled expression off his face as he rejoined the others.

“Is there a problem, David Derec?” asked M-3323.

“You bet there’s a problem. What happened to the house we were just in?”

“My apologies. Did you have other needs that you did not previously identify? Or do you have additional personal needs?”

“I need a straight answer. Where’s the house?”

“That facility has been released to the general inventory.”

“So I’m not just imagining that it’s gone-you brought it there for us and then cleaned up when we were done.”

“Yes, David Derec.”

“Do you do that all the time around here?”

“All physical resources are managed for maximum efficiency.”

“I’ll take that as yes. Crazy,” Derec shook his head.

“But it doesn’t matter to us,” Katherine said.