Fred Hoyle - A for Andromeda

She smiled politely.

“I’m sure you do, and we are all very beholden. It’s quite a change for us in this old country to be able to make a show of force. We shall have to take great care of you. Are they looking after you all right?”

“Yes, thank you.”

The visiting party stood round in a half circle, watching and admiring her, but she said nothing else.

Fleming caught Judy’s eye and nodded towards the Prime Minister. For a moment she could not think what he wanted, then she understood and edged in beside Geers.

“I don’t think the Prime Minister has met Dr. Fleming,” she whispered.

Geers frowned; his good fellowship seemed to be wearing a little thin in places.

“Good, good.” The Prime Minister could think of nothing more to say to Andromeda. He turned back to Geers.

“And where do you keep the rocketry?”

“I’ll show you, sir. And I’d like you to see the laboratory.”

They moved on, leaving Judy standing. “Dr. Fleming—” she tried unsuccessfully, but they did not hear her. Fleming stepped forward.

“Excuse me a moment—”

Geers turned to him with a scowl. “Not now, Fleming.”

“But—”

“What does the young man want?” the Prime Minister inquired mildly.

Geers switched on a smile.

“Nothing, sir. He doesn’t want anything.”

The Prime Minister walked on tactfully, and as Fleming moved forward again Hunter laid a hand on his arm.

“For goodness sake!” Hunter hissed.

At the door of the lab bay Geers turned back.

“You’d better come with us.” He spoke to Andromeda, ignoring the others.

“Come along, my dear,” said the Prime Minister, standing aside for her. “Brains and beauty first.”

The procession filed out into the laboratory, except for Judy.

“Coming?” she asked Fleming, who stood staring after them

He shook his head. “That was great, wasn’t it?”

“I did my best.”

“Great.”

Judy fidgeted with her handkerchief. “At least you should have been allowed to speak to him. I suppose he’s shrewd, though he looks a bit of an old woman.”

“Like another.”

“Who?”

“Of Riga.” He gave her a faint grin. “Who went for a ride on a tiger. They finished the ride with the lady inside, and a smile on the face of the tiger.”

She knew the limerick, and felt irritated. “We’re all going for a ride, except you?”

“You know what she said to me just now?”

“No.”

He changed his mind and looked away from Judy to the control panel. “I’ve an idea.”

“One I’d understand?”

“Look how beautifully he’s ticking over—how sleek and rhythmical he is.” The computer was working steadily, with a gentle hum and a regular flashing of lights. “Purring away with us inside him. Suppose I pulled out the plug now?”

“They wouldn’t let you.”

“Or got a crowbar and smashed him up.”

“You wouldn’t get far with the guards. Anyhow, they’d rebuild it.”

He took out a pad and some papers from a drawer in the control desk. “Then we’ll have to shake it intellectually, won’t we? I’ve shaken the young lady a bit. Now we’d better start on him.” He saw that she was looking at him doubtfully. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to blow your whistle. Are they coming back this way?”

“No. They’ll go out through the lab entrance.”

“Good.” He started copying numbers from the sheets on to the pad. “What is that?”

“A shortened formula for the creature.”

“Andromeda?”

“Call her whatever amuses you.” He scribbled on. “This is what the machine calls her. Not a formula, really—a naming tag.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Re-arrange it slightly.”

“You’re not going to do any damage?”

He laughed at her. “You’d better go on with your conducted tour; this’ll take time.”

“I shall warn the guards.”

“Warn whom you like.”

She hesitated, then gave it up and went to rejoin the party. When she had gone he checked the figures and walked over with the pad to the input unit.

“I’ll give you something to think about!” he said aloud to the machine, and sat down and started tapping the message in.

He had hardly finished when Andromeda came back.

“I thought you were going to see the rocketry.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “It is not interesting.”

The lamps on the display panel started to flash faster, and suddenly there was a fantastic clatter from the output unit as the printer began to work furiously.

Andromeda looked up in surprise. “What is happening?”

Fleming went quickly to the printer and read the figures as they were banged out on to the paper.

He smiled. “Your friend seems to have lost his temper.”

She crossed the room and looked over his shoulder.

“This is nonsense.”

“Exactly.”

The printer stopped as suddenly as it had begun, leaving them in silence.

“What have you been doing?” the girl asked. She read the figures through uncomprehendingly. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

Fleming grinned at her. “No. He’s flipped for a moment. I think he’s psychologically disturbed.”

“What have you done to it?” She started towards the terminals, but he stopped her.

“Come away from there.”

She halted uncertainly. “What have you done?”

“Only given him a little information.”

Looking around, she saw the pad on top of the input keys. She went slowly over to it and read it.

“That’s my name-tag—reversed!”

“Negatived,” said Fleming.

“It’ll think I’m dead!”

“That’s what I meant him to think.”

She looked up at him, puzzled. “Why?”

“I thought I’d let him know he couldn’t have it all his own way.”

“That was very foolish.”

“He seems to value you highly,” he said scornfully.

She turned away towards the terminals. “I must tell it I’m alive.”

“No!” He seized hold of her by the arms.

“I must. It thinks I’m dead, and I must tell it I’m not.”

“Then I shall tell it you are. I can play this game until it doesn’t know whether it’s coming or going.”

He let go one arm and picked up the pad from the keyboard.

“Give me that.” She pulled her other arm free. “You can’t win, you know.” She turned away again, and as Fleming moved to stop her she suddenly shouted at him. “Leave me alone! Go away! Go out of here!”

They stood facing each other, both trembling, as if neither could move. Then Fleming took hold of her firmly with both hands and drew her towards him.

He sniffed at her in surprise. “You’re wearing scent!”

“Let go of me. I shall call the guards.”

Fleming started to laugh. “Open your mouth, then.”

She parted her lips and he put a kiss on them. Then he held her at arms’ length and examined her.

“Nice or nasty?”

“Leave me alone, please.” Her voice was uncertain. She looked at him in a confused way, and then down, but he still held her.

“Who do you belong to?”

“I belong where my brain tells me.”

“Then tell it this—” He kissed her again, sensuously but dispassionately, for a long time.

“Don’t,” she begged, pulling her lips away. He held her close to him and spoke gently.

“Don’t you like the taste of lips? Or the taste of food, or the smell and feel of the fresh air outside, or the hills beyond the wire with sunshine and shadows on them and larks singing? And the company of human beings?”

She shook her head slowly. “They’re not important.”

“Aren’t they?” He spoke with his mouth close to her. “They weren’t allowed for by whatever disembodied intelligence up there you owe allegiance to, but they’re important to organic life, as you’ll find out.”