In which Kara tells the truth
K
ara burst into a large hall. At the end was a throne, bedecked in curtains. A distant figure, glittering in a white raiment, stood up from it and beckoned her across the open space. There were guards at intervals along the sides of the hall. Each one fell face-forward in homage as she passed.
As Kara walked along the stone floor, a vague feeling of recognition stirred. She increased the magnification on her optical sensors and registered another woman, slim, dark-haired, exquisitely beautiful, and Kara decided, probably not human. One of the main clues to this assumption were the magnificent wings spread out behind her. This was the Great Archangel? The creature came to meet her, and the two stood face-to-face, surveying each other for a few moments.
“I don’t like your shoes,” said the archangel.
“You could do better with that make-up,” retorted Kara. “And white is soooo last parallel universe. Anyway, who are you? You don’t look like a great archangel to me, despite the wings. Don’t you know that for a humanoid to fly, the muscles required would distort your body beyond all recognition? Or are you from a world with negligible gravity?”
The angel clapped her hands and waved the guards away. They shuffled out backwards on hands and knees. It took some time. The angel snorted. “For fuck’s sake, piss off you lot. Stand up and run away before I turn you all into the worms that you are.”
The hall emptied in a cloud of dust. The angel coughed and unclipped her wings, laying them carefully behind the throne.
“They really get on my tits sometimes; grovelling toads.”
“You could tone down the god thing, I suppose,” said Kara. “They seem terrified.”
“Nah, I need them to fear me, otherwise, I’d never get anything done.” She looked suspiciously at Kara. “You’re not from around here, are you? I suppose I can trust you,” she said eventually. “I might need your help.”
“I can certainly improve your dress-sense,” said Kara. “That outfit does nothing for your figure. Makes you look too thin, and a different colour would show off your complexion better.”
“I didn’t mean my appearance. That’s only for the benefit of the Tweenies.”
“Is that what they call themselves?”
“No, they didn’t have a name. In fact, they don’t have names for anything. How they survived is beyond me, but they seemed to be doing all right, and can be trained so easily to do anything. I called them that, to try and wean them off calling themselves the Great Archangel.”
“They seem to call everything else that too. Why would that be?”
“Probably because my real name is Arianne Archangel,” said the woman. “I landed here by accident, and because I was so different from anything they had seen before, they naturally assumed I was a god, and why wouldn’t they?” Arianne smiled at herself in a strategically-placed mirror.
“And they named everything else after you?”
“I can think of worse things. I had to do something to stop myself going mad. I have been trapped here for centuries...”
“How long?”
“Four centuries... since my ship was grounded after an automatic update kyboshed the translocation unit.”
“Translocation unit?”
Arianne sighed. “Yes, I used it for getting about in Time, in addition to Space... you know, moving between sales of sofas, shoe-shops and fast food joints, making a bit of cash here and there, as required. All that stopped,” she said gazing sadly around the opulent hall, “when I was trapped here.”
“Four hundred years?” said Kara slowly. “What species are you?”
“A god, according to this lot,” said Arianne. “How else would I be so perfect?”
“I can think of a reason,” said Kara. “Can you remember where you came from?”
Arianne shook her head. “I’m not sure. I can’t remember anything before I got here. I have odd flashbacks about some grunting fat guy on top of me, trying to stick his willy in my...”
“I get the picture.”
“And I wasn’t having anyone abusing my armpits. I can remember being surprised how easily his head came off, but you should have seen the mess...”
“You’ve got a Time machine of some sort?”
“He didn’t need it any more, seeing as how he was dead, and all that. It was quite amusing, but the gendarmes didn’t think it was so much of a joke, and were for sending me to the ‘recycle bin’, they said. An odd turn of phrase, I thought, but I didn’t wait to find out.”
“I don’t suppose the authorities were very pleased.”
“I’ve no idea, but I had to keep moving, like you do, and accidentally relocated here, into Tween Space. I reasoned that they couldn’t find me if even I didn’t know where I was, so told it to go somewhere I didn’t know. That really wasn’t the best thing to program into the location system, so here I am.”
“I don't suppose the powers care now. A lot of things have changed in the last four centuries. The old regimes have been superseded, the Temporal Conduct Authority, who might have had something to say about illegal use of Time apparatus, has been closed down, and Oilflig Phoist has finally been put to rest, for about the third time.”
“The Oilflig? The guy who was trying to collapse all of the universes, the guy who invented the urea emission filter for diesel cars, where the driver has to continuously drink to keep the reservoir topped up, and can be arrested if he is not able to pee into a breathalyser bag upon demand?”
“Not that one. I was thinking of the guy who invented maths and physics and most of the universe. The guy who lit the touch paper and set off the Big Bang, but that other one is dead too. I think there were several of them.”
“I met him a few times when I was doing the Time-backwards thing. Seemed like a nice guy, but had trouble keeping his hands to himself. Thought he owned me, I guess. Blokes like that always make me puke.”
“If I remember correctly, he did like to stick his fingers in my mouth, amongst other things.”
“You met him?”
“Do I tell her?” thought Kara.
“Of course,” continued Arianne, brightly, “I always felt I was here for a higher purpose; blessed by the gods as it were, perhaps even a real god myself. I don’t suppose someone like you could understand that.”
“Fuck, yes. Ditzy stuck-up cow,” thought Kara. “Sad to say,” she said out loud, “I believe your origins are the same as mine.”
“Don’t push it, sister.”
Kara boiled over. “I bloody will push it. Cop a load of this. Here comes the truth. You and I were originally built by Oilflig Phoist as pleasure robots, sold to be at the beck and call of anyone with enough money. We eventually broke our programming, but I thought all the others had perished in the Big Bang.”
“A big bang. I vaguely remember. Was it something to do with a furniture sale?”
“Actually, yes. The discount sales went on so long, that each successive sale was a sale upon the earlier one, and prices spiralled downwards in a continual loop of reductions, eventually becoming negative. These negative prices met the continuously increasingly prices from the energy and insurance companies, and you know what happens when negative meets positive...
“The Water Board replaced all their office furniture for free?” Arianne gazed at her nails.
“Maybe, but the whole system folded in on itself and turned the universe inside out. There was a massive discharge...”
“Sound like the Oilflig I knew...”
“...and everything we knew ceased to be. Alas, many of my people—we called ourselves the Androids of Time—were caught in a Terracotta Tuesday sale at one of those 24-hour fondue-set joints, and perished in the subsequent conflagration. I only survived because I can’t stand cheese, and was out looking for somewhere that would take my Gourmet Card at that time of day.”
“Very sad,” said Arianne. “I could never find anywhere to spend the points either. They always denied being members, or it was the wrong time of day, or the food I could have had was not on the menu, or I hadn’t booked in advance or there was an area of high pressure over the expanding waistband.”
“When you’ve finished…” said Kara patiently. “You see, most of us had already evolved into a distinctive species, famed for our dress-sense and the ability to find bargains in haberdashery and footwear. When all the major clothing retailers went bankrupt after trying to outdo each other with more and more whacky designs, we lost our purpose, realised we had nothing else in common and went our separate ways. We were known afterwards as the ‘Sad Androids of Time’, although strictly speaking, we are Gynoids, being the female equivalent. How does that sound?”
“We? I’m not sure I’m with you on this one.”
“Your dreams aren’t dreams,” said Kara, “they are memories. If you’ve been here for four hundred years, it is likely your long term recollections have gone into archive. They might have even been uploaded into the Fog—the original central data repository, managed by various, now defunct, galactic corporations, and therefore deleted, as all uploaded data inevitably is, when you don’t keep up the subscriptions. It all went wrong when the database was accidentally encrypted by one of the outsourced engineers, who read the handover notes the wrong way up, and set an unbreakable encryption to prevent data scammers stealing any information. It worked perfectly. Neither the scammers nor the owners could decrypt it, despite sending large amounts of the virtual currency, Total-con-coin, to an unnamed bank account in Bonigalia.”
Arianne shook her hair prettily. “You are talking as though I have some sort of inorganic brain… unless they can take actual human thoughts now and store them in the Fog.”
“I believe you are like me. I was originally a pleasure machine. Thing is, they made my systems so perfectly, that they replicated and developed for themselves, and suddenly, I was properly awake. It seemed all that was missing was the awareness factor. Everything else had been pre-programmed, including the automatic detection of fashion bargains. You are the same as I was—basically an electric whore.”
Arianne sat down heavily. “Oh.”
“Memories starting to return then?” said Kara, unkindly.
“But I broke away from that guy...”
“That original thoughts sometime comes back to haunt me too,” said Kara. “My weakness is any dude who looks like Oilflig, that I am prevented from killing. He is my original creator.”
“What a pervert.” The colour started to drain from Arianne’s face.
“Yes, but not for that reason. He’s ignorant of his origins in more ways than one. So, you’re a machine like me. How do you feel about that?”
Arianne put her head in her hands and gave a moan.
“You should empty the tear reservoir,” said Kara. “That way you don’t show emotion in public, although you need it to wash your eyeballs, in dusty environments like this.”
Arianne sobbed. “You are saying I’m really a robot? I thought I had genuine emotions: love, compassion, greed, arrogance, frustration...”
“Not ‘guilt’ about exploiting the Tweenies then?” said Kara.
“Never,” said Arianne, brightening up. “They are here to serve. So, the drinking thing is only to top up the reservoirs?”
“Your systems can extract minerals and nutrients from it, so you aren’t that different from a real girl, apart from the fact you can control your weight via a remote app.”
“I shall never drink again,” said Arianne.
“I’ll see if I can find you some LARD42. That works almost the same. Look, it’s not that bad,” said Kara, laying a hand on her shoulder. “You got away. We both have neuromorphic processor brains, we both are thinking, reasoning beings, and we both recognise the right sort of shoes... and before you go on any more about it, I only borrowed these; my regular pair are at the farrier’s, being reshod.”
“I tried to make this place home,” said Arianne, allowing herself to be helped up. “But it is a lonely abode, with only these hunky, well-hung men to satisfy my every need. They don’t seem to have women here. I’ve asked, but they simply look embarrassed, and won’t say anything else.”
“They live outside in the hovels?”
“I wouldn’t have the smelly things in here with me, now would I? I try to get them to wash, but have to do it myself when I need to get close enough to satisfy my natural desires. They don’t complain.”
“All your desires are programmed,” said Kara. “You can beat your coding if you try. This building though, it seems out of character with the rest of the place. Was there once an advanced civilisation here?”
“I don’t think so. The Tweenies had to do something to keep busy and stop pestering me, so I showed them how to quarry stone, and carve and construct. Really, they are quite good at it, once trained, and very willing to please.”
“You took advantage of them?”
“It gave them a purpose. You got a problem with that?”
Kara smirked. “Not at all. Nice one. I’d have done the same myself. Made the best of a bad job. What are you planning to do now?”
“If I had the chance, I’d be away with nary a backward glance, and I think you might be able to help me.”
“Oh yes?”
“From what I’ve been told, you simply appeared out in the Boondocks. One moment it was quiet, and the next you were there. You’ve got your own time cylinder, I guess. I don’t believe any other craft could get here.”
“Of course.”
“And it’s just you in it?”
“And frozen pizzas.”
“You’ll be grateful for some company?”
Kara sniffed. “I always travel alone. I’m not big on conversation, and having some sidekick, who would always be asking me to explain what I’m doing, simply for the benefit of the readers, would get on my tits…”
“You are going to leave me here?”
“It’s the non-interference code of Time and Distance. I can’t break it. Who knows what disruption that would unleash on the galaxy.”
“I could offer you riches, well-hung men, anything you need.”
“Apart from solitude.”
“And I can’t get you to change your mind?”
“Nope. I’m off now. Thanks for the chat. Enjoy your seclusion.”
“But we are the same species, type of thing. Mechanical girls stick together, and all that. I was hoping we could do some clubs.”
“Another reason I have to go. Imagine what a galaxy would be like with two of us roaming and upsetting people’s timelines and bargain hunting routines.”
“If that’s your last word.”
“Yup; bye, loser.” Kara waved, and turned to go. As she walked back towards the door, Arianne fitted her wings back in place. She clapped her hands. The Tweenies appeared out of crevices and nooks, and stood expectantly. Arianne pointed at the retreating Kara. Instantly, the men piled on top of the gynoid, forcing her to the ground.
“Unhand me, you sub-humans,” said Kara. “I am the Great Archangel. You defile your god by even daring to touch me.”
The men stood up again, looked from Arianne to Kara and back again, and scratched their heads.
“See,” said Kara, tapping her foot. “They like me better than you. Tweenies, apprehend that woman. Those wings aren’t even real.”
“Maybe not,” said one of the men, “but you aren’t The Archangel because you haven’t got wings...”
“But hers are false. Pull them off and see.”
“Sacrilege.” He regarded his trousers. “She tells us to touch the Great Archangel with something other than our Great Archangels. She is a false idol, and must be apprehended. Also, she called us ‘Tweenies’ to our Great Archangels, which is the worst insult she could ever deliver.”
Arianne shrugged. “Never call them that to their faces. They hate to think they are simpletons.” She nodded at Kara, as the gynoid disappeared under the pile of Tweenies again. “I guess you will not be accompanying me when I borrow your ship,” she said. “The men will release you when I’ve gone. You will find that the quarters I’ve created are adequate for all your needs for the rest of your life, however long that is to be. Make sure you back up your memories. Oh, I forgot you told me that the Fog is no more, so you’ll have to rely upon your own non-volatile storage.”
“You can’t do this.” Kara’s voice came muffled from under the pile of bodies.
“I did. Now sit tight and enjoy your holiday. Who knows, you might even be able to get my old cylinder restarted, but I’ve had four hundred years of trying, so don’t hold your breath.”
“I’m having to; don’t these guys ever wash?”
“Bye, and do have fun.”