9

The moment the ship took off, Dan felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. This was, of course, simply the result of the incredible G-Force that was being exerted upon his body. But Dan, who had no idea that the ship had taken off, merely thought that he was getting nervous. The sinking feeling in the stomach was quickly followed by a draining of blood from the brain, leading to momentary light-headedness, followed by total black-out.

If he hadn’t just blacked-out, Dan would have noticed that the take-off had affected Lucy and Nettle in an identical way - even though none of them knew what was happening.

‘Nothing to be alarmed about, sir, madam and thing.’ The polite robot seemed to be addressing this last to the now comatose Nettle. ‘A perfectly routine take-off. You life-forms have a good snooze while us machines get on with running the ship.’ The Doorbot, itself, then blacked out and lay in a tidy heap, while the ship accelerated at speeds far beyond its original specifications, towards an unknown quarter of the InterGalactic Space-Time Continuum.

The robots on board must have recovered consciousness before the human beings. Nettle found herself undressed and tucked up in bed in a tiny cabin about the size of her flat back in Harringay.

Apart from the size, everything about the place was unfamiliar. The sheets on the bed were made of some material that felt like silk but much thicker and heavier. The mug holding the toothbrush bore a picture of an elderly Egyptian opera singer - or at least that’s who it looked like to Nettle. She’d once received a postcard of an elderly Egyptian opera singer, and had kept it in a drawer. The toothbrush itself was rather weird, since it kept ducking its head and brushing its own handle - rather like a bird preening itself.

Opposite the bed was a television on which a snowstorm seemed to be the only entertainment. Nettle picked up the remote, aimed it at the TV and started pressing buttons. A cocktail cabinet rose out of the floor; a Dustbot scuttled out of the clothes cupboard, picked up an invisible speck of dust, squeaked, ‘Thank you for appreciating a clean environment!’ and hurried back out of sight again; the door opened; the lights went on and off but the TV resolutely refused to show any programme other than the snowstorm.

‘Alt! Hi! I’m glad to see you have found your Personal Electronic Thingie, please keep it with you at all times since it is your communication with the Starship Titanic. Welcome aboard.’ Nettle found herself apparently being addressed by the standard lamp that stood in the corner of the cabin. She instinctively pulled the sheets up to cover her breasts.

‘Wowee! I don’t blame you keeping those babies to yourself!’ exclaimed the standard lamp.

‘Will you turn around while I get dressed!’ said Nettle. The lamp turned around obediently. It was the same on the other side. ‘Will you please go away?’ she said.

‘Hey! That’d be groovy! I’ve had it up to here with standing around in this cabin anyway!’ The standard lamp walked smartly towards the door. ‘Oh by the way,’ it said breezily, ‘I’m your Bellbot. Anything you want - just ask me. I’ll be standing outside. Wow! It’s great to get a change of scenery!’ And it closed the door.

‘I’m sure that robot’s not meant to behave like that,’ said Nettle to herself, as she threw on her clothes and examined the thing she had mistaken for the TV remote control. On it were a variety of buttons. One of them had an icon of the Bellbot on it so she pressed it and the door reopened and the Bellbot peered in.

‘Wowzeee! You look terrific in that Gap T-shirt!’ it exclaimed.

‘Will you please refrain from making personal comments!’ said Nettle rather crossly.

‘Shit! No offence, man!’ The Bellbot seemed genuinely hurt. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Firstly I want to meet up with my colleagues. Secondly I think we probably would like to know how to get off this ship.’

‘Hot dog!’ The Beilbot snapped its fingers with a metallic ping. ‘You mean there are more hot little numbers like you around?’

‘You are behaving most impolitely for an android!’

Nettle knew how to address a robot ‘Would you please keep your personal comments to yourself or otherwise I will have you reported - and you know what that’ll mean.’

The Bellbot froze to the spot. ‘Hey, man! I’m a genuine “personality transfer” bot. It’s my character!’

‘Well I don’t like it. And you’re here to serve me so just stop it at once.’

The robot went all sulky. ‘All right! Don’t go on about it.’

‘Do you know where my friends are?’

‘Adjoining rooms?’ suggested the Bellbot.

Nettle was out of her cabin in a moment. Every door along the narrow corridor, that curved round and out of vision, had writing on it.

‘What’s this say?’ she asked. By way of answer the robot produced a pair of spectacles and offered them to Nettle. Nettle hesitated, then put them on.

‘Translatorspecs,’ explained the Bellbot unhappily.

Nettle could now see that every door had a name:

‘Hyacinth’, ‘Jasmine’, ‘Delphinium’ and so on.

‘How tacky,’ murmured Nettle and she started knocking on ‘Cauliflower’. After a dozen or so vain attempts on various flora, she turned on the Bellbot which was walking quietly behind her with its hands folded behind its back. ‘Look! Do you or do you not know where my friends are?’

‘I do not,’ said the robot.

‘Do you or do you not know how I can go about finding them?’ Nettle was phrasing her questions carefully.

‘I do,’ said the Bellbot after some thought.

‘Then tell me how,’ said Nettle, ‘Guest list,’ announced the robot. ‘And where is that?’

‘Deskbot - Embarkation Lobby - Embarkation Floor,’ replied the bot.

‘Can’t I just ring from my room?’

‘Not from the Super Galactic Traveller Class Suites, no.’

‘Then show me the way to the Embarkation Lobby,’ said Nettle.

‘Ah!’ replied the Bellbot, ‘I’m afraid I can’t leave this deck, but if you go along to the lifts, the Liftbot will take care of all your vertical transportation requirements, and then a Doorbot will escort you round the Embarkation Lobby.’

Nettle sighed. She could already tell that travelling Super Galactic Class was not going to be glamorous.

Lucy came to her senses to hear a loud knocking sound. She sat up and looked around an unfamiliar room. It was tiny, cramped and had a hideous lampstand in one corner. The television wasn’t working properly and the colour scheme was a ghastly pink. There was a constant grinding sound coming from underneath the floor and besides that there was this wretched knocking on what she now began to recognize as the door.

‘Lucy!’ Lucy now realized there was a voice accompanying the knocking. ‘Open the door!’ It was Dan,

‘How?’

‘You’ve got a little remote control thingie - use that,’ shouted Dan.

After a bit of fumbling she managed to get the door open, and there was Dan, standing in a dingy corridor running his fingers through his hair like he always did.

‘Thank God you’re 0K!’ He smiled that mile-wide smile of his, and Lucy flung herself at him as if she were drowning.

‘What happened?’ she cried.

‘We’re going to find out.’ Thank goodness he sounded more confident than he felt.

‘We’re in that spaceship, aren’t we?’ Lucy wished she didn’t sound so unconfident - because now she had Dan there, she really felt everything was going to be all right.

‘Let’s find Nettle and get out of this thing as fast as possible,’ said Dan. ‘Apparently we can only locate other passengers by going up to the Embarkation Lobby. You’d think a thing this sophisticated would have room-to-room telephones!’

The lift entrance in the Super Galactic Traveller Class offered no view of the Central Well. But once you stepped into the lift, the sudden sheer vastness of the Well took you by surprise. Lucy and Dan found themselves speechless.

‘Huh!’ said the Liftbot. ‘If sir, madam or thing would care to give some indication of their vertical traveling requirements I might be able to get on with my job - such as it is.’

‘The Embarkation Lobby, please,’ said Dan.

‘You’re asking me to go up?’

‘Am I?’ asked Dan.

‘The Embarkation Lobby is on the Embarkation Level, sir,’ said the Liftbot in the tone of voice most people would only dream of using to address particularly stupid patches of damp.

‘Then that’s where we’d like to go.’

‘up?’

‘I suppose so.’

The Liftbot fetched up a groan from deep within, and muttered to itself ‘Young people nowadays! Don’t give a tinker’s cuss for them as went through the hell of two world wars that left some of us with one arm and a broken marriage.’

Lucy kicked Dan, as she felt him about to reply. ‘Just take us to the Embarkation Lobby,’ she said in her best Rodeo Drive No Hostages Taken voice that she used when buying antique rugs.

The Liftbot stifled a pathetic sniffle, put its hand to the handle sticking out from its chest and pushed it up with a sigh. The elevator gathered speed and the humans were once again silenced by the spectacular magnificence of the Starship.

Lucy put her hand into Dan’s. In her dreams she had imagined places of such scale and splendour, but she had always known that they belonged strictly to the world of the imagination. And yet here she was - in an interior that matched up to her dreams. The old rectory, which Dan had been so crazy about, looked pretty tawdry compared to this.

She glanced sideways at Dan. She couldn’t guess what he was thinking. She never could.

As they stepped out of the elevator into the loggia at the top of the Great Central Well, they caught sight of a blonde figure in high heels disappearing into the far door. By the time they reached the Embarkation Lobby, they found Nettle apparently deep in conversation with a desk light.

‘This is the Embarkation Lobby, sir and madam.’ A Doorbot had already wheeled over and was gesticulating in front of them in a rather meaningless fashion. ‘As Super Galactic Travellers you are entitled to pass through this lobby but you may not use the seating accommodation or the bathrooms. Super Galactic Class facilities are available on your own decks.’

‘Look, we’re not travelling,’ said Dan. ‘We just want to know how to get out of this thing.’

At that moment Nettle, who seemed to be getting nowhere with the desk light, turned and spotted them. ‘Hey! There you are!’ she called, and then turned back to the desk light and said: ‘Listen, bulb-brain, you can fill your own request forms in - in triplicate - and shove them up your lampshade!’ The desk light rested its head in its hands and pretended to be looking somewhere else.

‘Get off this thing?’ the Doorbot was repeating to itself, as Nettie joined them.

‘Yeah!’ replied Dan. ‘We want to get out - like the quickest way.’

‘Ohh!’ Nettle looked a bit puzzled. ‘Don’t you just want to see round a bit?’

Dan found he was more and more surprised by this extraordinary woman. ‘Look round a bit?’ he exclaimed. ‘Aren’t you scared?’

‘Well - a bit - but it’s so exciting! And these things seem to be perfectly harmless.’ Nettie gave the Doorbot a chuck under the chin. It sniffed and pretended to flick a bit of fluff off its sleeve. A Dustbot shot out from the skirting, picked up the imaginary bit of fluff, squeaked and shot back into the skirting again.

‘It’s amazing, isn’t it?’ ventured Lucy uncertainly.

‘Sensational!’ agreed Nettie.

‘But we’ve got to be sensible,’ said Dan, adopting his ‘I’m in charge’ manner that never fooled anyone. ‘We ought to find the exit - so we know where we are - and then - maybe - we could explore a bit if you really want.’

‘I’m afraid you can’t, sir.’ The Doorbot sniffed in that particular way designed to make anyone, who hasn’t paid a fortune for their ticket to snooty travel agents in Kensington, feel like unwanted dandruff.

‘Can’t what?’ said Lucy.

‘I am afraid you can’t leave the ship,’ replied the Doorbot. ‘Now if you wouldn’t mind hurrying through to your own decks -‘

‘Wait a minute!’ Dan had decided to turn nasty, which, in his case, was usually as nasty as a packet of Band-Aids. ‘What do you mean “we can’t leave the ship”?’

‘Are we prisoners?’ Nettle sounded faintly thrilled.

‘No, madam or thing, of course you are not prisoners; it is simply a physical impossibility for you to leave at this moment in time because the Starship is in flight.’ The Doorbot coughed and indicated the loggia and the Great Central Well. ‘I suggest you all go down to the Super Galactic Traveller Class Restaurant where you will encounter plain home cooking with a great doorway.’

The news that they were in flight had a remarkable effect on the three human beings. If there had been a window, they would all have undoubtedly dashed to it. As there was not, all the energy that would have gone into that dashing had to be used up somehow. Nettle used it up by doing some aerobic movements designed to release stress. Lucy and Dan used it up by shouting at Nettie.

‘You see what you’ve done! Oh my God! We’re in space! It’s all your fault!’ Dan chose plain abuse.

‘I knew it!’ Lucy was going for guilt-provoking self recrimination. ‘I knew we shouldn’t have followed that dumb peroxide airhead!’

‘Please refrain from shouting on the Embarkation Level. There may be First or Second Class passengers about. You may shout as much as you want on the Super Galactic Traveller Class decks,’ said the Doorbot and he again indicated the way down.

Nettle was holding up her hands. ‘Hey! Hey! Guys! Calm down!’

‘Why should we calm down!?’ Dan had hit Histrionic Mode. ‘You’ve just destroyed our future home! You’ve forced us onto an alien spacecraft! And now we’re not even on Earth any more! God knows how we’ll ever get back!’

‘Please!’ said Nettle. ‘I didn’t destroy your future home.’

‘No! No! I know! I’m sorry! I just got carried away!’ Dan didn’t know why he’d said that.

‘And if we really are in the situation this robot tells us we’re in, we’d better keep our heads and decide how to get out of it.’

‘Arrrggggghh! Aggggggghhhhhh! Arrrrghhhhhhhh!!’ Lucy had decided to set aside her admiration for the fabulous decor of the ship and had reverted to Primal Scream Mode.

‘Please scream on the Super Galactic Traveller Class decks only!’ urged the Doorbot.

‘We must do something’ began Nettle;

‘DO?!’ shouted Dan. ‘DO?! WHAT CAN WE DO?!’

‘I suggest,’ said Nettle firmly, ‘we find the Captain - there must be one - explain our situation - and ask him to take us home.’

‘Fine! Oh fine!’ Dan was beside himself with sarcasm. ‘FINE! Find the Captain! Why didn’t I think of that? Oh yes! Brilliant idea!… Actually that is a pretty good idea.’

‘Arrgh! Aaaaaagh! Arrrrrgh!’ continued Lucy after a short pause.

‘Shut up!’ said Dan. It was the first time he had ever spoken to Lucy like that, and she shut up in surprise.

‘Where can we find the Captain?’ Nettie turned to the Doorbot, who was looking about anxiously to make sure that no other passengers were being incommoded by all this Super Galactic Traveller Class screaming.

‘The Captain, madam or thing, is to be found on the Captain’s Bridge,’ said the Doorbot coldly with killing logic.

‘And where do we find that?’

‘You don’t,’ said the robot firmly. ‘The Captain’s Bridge is accessible only from the First Class accommodation.’

‘Well surely we can just go through in order to get to the Bridge?’ reasoned Nettle.

‘I’m afraid not,’ sniffed the Doorbot. ‘All travelling area restrictions are strictly observed on this vessel.’

‘Oh come off it!’ exclaimed Dan. ‘This is an emergency!’

‘Over there!’ said Nettle. She had just put on her translatorspecs and could now read the words ‘FIRST CLASS PASSENGERS ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT’ on a door at the other end of the lobby.

‘That’s pretty neat!’ exclaimed Dan, when Nettle had explained how she knew which way to go.

‘Arrrrgh!’ said Lucy. ‘Sorry! I didn’t mean to scream! It’s just that robot moved so fast!’ And it was true: the moment Dan and Nettle and Lucy stepped towards the First Class entrance, the Doorbot had overtaken them and was standing in between them and the doorway.

‘I regret, sir, madam and thing.’

‘Stop calling me a thing,’ said Nettle.

‘Super Galactic Class Travellers are not allowed beyond this point. Now if you’d kindly return to your own decks…’

‘Get out of the way, Jeeves,’ said Dan and he pushed past the robot.

‘Sir will find the door sealed,’ sniffed the Doorbot, ‘and if you do not return to your own quarters I shall be forced to call the ship’s security officers. They have vicious rabbits.’

Dan and Lucy were by now pushing and pulling on the First Class door, but it was clearly a pointless exercise.

‘There must be another way of doing this,’ said Nettle. Something about her tone of voice made Dan and Lucy calm down and return to rational thinking.

‘OK!’ said Dan. Let me handle this. After all, travel is - or has been - my business. What we have here is the commonest problem known to travellers the world over. How do we get a free upgrade?’

The Doorbot went silent.

‘Ha!’ Dan recognized the response immediately: corporate dumb insolence! ‘If you don’t tell us how to get a free upgrade immediately I shall report you to the Travel Association.’ It was a bluff but it seemed to succeed.

‘I cannot help you there, sir.’ The contempt in the robot’s voice was now so palpable it made Dan’s skin feel rough. You will have to inquire with the Deskbot.’ And he indicated the desk lamp that Nettle had been talking to earlier.

‘Huh!’ snorted Nettie. ‘That machine’s about as helpful as a strapless ball-gown under G-Force!’

Rut Dan had already run over to the Deskbot, and was now preparing to humiliate himself on an heroic scale.

‘Look,’ he began. ‘We have been mis-assigned our accommodation. This - as I expect you recognize - is Gloria Stanley, the actress.’ Dan pointed at Nettle who immediately caught on to his drift and dutifully treated the Deskbot to a sultry look. ‘I am her manager and this young lady is her lawyer.’ Lucy really did look the part in her pinstripe power suit. ‘We should have been given First Class tickets but our travel agent screwed up the booking. Can you reassign us immediately?’

The Deskbot raised its shade or head and stared with its two lamps straight at Dan. He squirmed but held his composure.

‘And which travel agency would that be?’ asked the Deskbot.

‘Top Ten Travel.’ Dan was well into his role by now.

The Deskbot blinked a few times, as if running through a file somewhere in its database. There was a sort of ‘bing!’ noise and it drummed its fingers on the desk. ‘I have no record of such an agency in the Galaxy.’

‘I can assure you it does exist,’ said Dan, whilst thinking, ‘Well, it did exist up to this morning.’

‘Look, we must get an upgrade to First.’ Lucy had decided to chime in.

‘Oh yes, madam.’ The Deskbot had become insolently polite. ‘And to whose account should this “upgrade” be charged?’

‘Mayem, Rader and Lizt,’ said Lucy. It was the name of her law firm.

‘We have no record of such a company,’ said the Deskbot.

‘You didn’t even check your database!’ exclaimed Lucy indignantly.

The Deskbot blinked a couple of times and there was another ‘bing!’ noise. The Deskbot leant forward:

‘I can only upgrade you if you pay the difference in advance.’

‘How much is it?’ Dan felt they were on a slippery slope here.

‘Seventy million pistres or two pnedes. Currency is not accepted and you may only pay by Galactic Gold Credit Card.’

‘I don’t think you quite appreciate who Gloria Stanley is…’ Dan decided to change tack.

‘I don’t give a stuff who “Gloria Stanley” is,’ said the Deskbot suddenly and rather surprisingly. ‘I can only upgrade you if you pay in advance with a Galactic Gold Card.’

‘Oh, let it go,’ muttered Nettle, who hated this sort of thing.

‘Look,’ said Lucy in her best lawyer’s conciliatory tone, ‘there must be some way you could organize an upgrade for us. We’re valuable customers.’

The Deskbot seemed to do a quick check this time on a small screen set in the desk. ‘Super Galactic Traveller Class - Complimentary,’ it read. ‘You’re on free tickets?!’

‘Exactly! We’re valued customers! Celebrities!’ Dan had thrown caution to the wind. But the Deskbot shook its shade. If it had had a lip, it would have curled.

‘I’m sorry, there is absolutely nothing I can do. You simply cannot upgrade to First Class from Super Galactic Traveller Class - let alone on a complimentary ticket. Perhaps if you were Second Class I could do something.’

‘Look!’ said Nettie to the desk light ‘We don’t care what class we travel.’

‘I do!’ said Dan.

‘So do I!’ exclaimed Lucy.

‘All we want to do,’ Nettle continued, ‘is talk to the Captain. Can you put us through to him?’

‘I have no means of contacting the Captain,’ replied the Deskbot. ‘And, in any case, it is against company policy to allow Super Galactic Class Travellers - especially complimentary ones - access to any of the senior officers.’

‘God!’ muttered Nettle to the other two. ‘I can’t stand this sort of thing. There must be some way of getting through to the Captain.’

‘How can we get reassigned to Second Class?’ Lucy knew now that Dan was well and truly in the grip of that most powerful force known to man - the desire for a free upgrade. Nothing could stop him.

‘That, surely can’t be too much to ask?’ Dan was halfway between whining and cajoling.

The Deskbot started to look earnestly at the ceiling.

That’s a pretty shade you’re wearing.’ Lucy had decided to try another approach.

‘It’s just the company colours,’ said the Deskbot.

‘But it suits you,’ said Lucy.

Dan rolled his eyes.

‘Look!’ He tried to reassert control on the discussion, but the Deskbot interrupted.

‘You have free upgrade vouchers in your rooms. Now, please, I have better things to do.’