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Chapter Two
Noel walked on, thinking over his six hundred-odd years of service. His,
and every android's, deepest instinct was to serve, indeed what other fulfilment
had he known up to this point in time? How many generations of young humans
had he helped in growing up? He was a teacher, a servant, a mother. His
eyes almost grew moist as he thought of all those young human lives. Normally
thoughts like these would calm him and strengthen his inbuilt adherence
to convention, but now there was something new in his psyche that he could
not ignore or push away. It was not that he was dissatisfied or angry with
his lot, but some new force was growing in him.
The city loomed in his mind. The quarter of the city called the Poets Quarter,
or just the Quarter, now held a fascination for him. After his holiday with
George, Noel had begun to see that it was possible for droids and humans
to mix on more equal terms. It was not just a question of subservience:
Noel knew, and George knew, that Noel would unhesitatingly obey George,
or any human in the position of his superior. It was an acceptance of Noel
as a person, for want of a better word, that had touched Noel and made him
yearn for more contact. George's account of the Quarter conjured up for
Noel a more fulfilling life. In this lawless part of the Capital it was
rumoured that poets and artists lived and a kind of fair existed that was
a revival of traditions thousands of years old. It was called a melting
pot; some said that the new civilization would be born there, others said
it contained the seeds for the destruction of the Continent. Noel mused
on that mysterious word: the Continent. Like the Sea surrounding it, the
land had lost its name. There was only one Continent, nothing else existed
from which the Continent had to be distinguished by name. The rest of the
planet was ignored and shut out while the Continent, inward-looking and
self-absorbed, struggled on in the obsessive relationship with its mechanical
sons and daughters.
Noel walked on. Inside he felt that the tension of the last months was building
up. The formation within him of desires that had lead to his decision to
visit the Quarter were, for a droid, momentous: he had abandoned his allocated
place of work; which in itself was not against the law, yet it placed him
in a grey area, somehow beyond it. Noel felt a fear inside him as he contemplated
where it might be leading him.
George had talked to him a lot in the last few days about the Poets Quarter.
He had been a frequenter of the bars there, though now it was no longer
safe for him to do so. He had also given Noel a description of the android
Xavier, who had wandered into the Quarter by mistake, supposedly, and had
landed up staying there. To the conventional way of thinking his subsequent
exploits made him the worst kind of revert, and he had a destruction order
on his head. Noel shivered inside at what he was doing, but he felt that
he had to make this move in order to put together the fragments bubbling
up from his subconscious. He needed to find androids, or even humans, with
similar experiences; the atmosphere he imagined to exist in the Quarter
suggested that he would find them there. Also he needed something else...
he needed whatever it was that he had experienced with George while on holiday.
He knew that he ran the risk that if he were caught he would lay himself
open to a reversion charge, and with the episode at the factory he would
have a hard time refuting it. At a public droid trial people were not shy
of coming forward with real or imagined evidence of reversion, and as he
thought of this he felt the knot of anxiety inside him tighten. Yet in going
to the Quarter Noel was hoping to find the key to his feeling of dislocation;
a solution which would not label him a revert.
Soon Noel was in the quiet streets of the business sector of the Capital.
He had calculated that he should reach the no-man's land delineating Poets
Quarter as dawn broke. Keeping a watchful eye out for police he strode on
with his long rhythmical android's gait. The ordered streets and sidewalks
petered out gradually, and soon he was in the dangerous strip separating
the two quarters. Light was just gathering; a deep luminous blue silhouetted
the straggling towers and neon-lights of the Quarter. Puddles reflected
the same blue between wild flowers and broken bricks. Somehow the desolation
and wildness stirred Noel; he reflected that where man had been, nature
crept back humbled.
A slight breeze blew across the strip and shook the little bushes and grasses.
Stealthily he ran from one sparse covering to another across the strip of
no-man's land. No one challenged him, there was no sign of life, and before
long he gained the shelter of the first buildings. Straightening up, he
stopped for a moment. The police were no longer a threat now and neither
would they help him; he would have to contend with this new environment
on its own terms. Noel had to find the bar where Xavier was reputed to spend
his time. Noel shuddered at the rumours about him; he was supposed to have
fought men in the outlawed arenas of the Quarter and even killed some. These
were the very antitheses of an android's deepest instincts, yet Noel was
seeking him out.
Noel, with no idea of how he would be received, stopped the first passer-by
in the strengthening sunlight and asked him for directions to the bar. By
early morning Noel had arrived there, unhindered and unchallenged. Noel
had no more time now to prepare himself; everything over the last months
had been leading up to this point, and now he would simply have to plunge
in.
The bar was serving breakfast to a disparate collection of people and droids.
Stooping to disguise his height a little, Noel pushed open the door with
an assumed casualness; he knew that the first glances around the room would
have to serve him well. With all his senses strained he absorbed the scene
and read the little signs that abounded, written and otherwise. He felt
a kind of heightened awareness, similar to the feeling in the factory after
he had inadvertently opened the doors.
With the nonchalance of a regular customer he had wandered over to the counter
where a kettle was steaming and hotplates were sizzling. In the brief interval
from opening the door to reaching the counter he had discovered that it
was self-service, that one paid after eating, that the usual drink was the
outlawed 'kass', (a strong stimulant) and that cheery conversation, if held
at all, was not the diet at breakfast-time. Still with all senses strained,
but with the outer appearance of a sleep-befuddled and stimulant-hungry
human, he ordered the drink and a sandwich. The barman looked at him keenly.
"Haven't seen you before. Here for the Games?"
"Yeah," nodded Noel as he shuffled off with his tray, to a corner
he had picked out in advance. The barman seemed to be content with their
curt exchange and continued to dry plates. From his corner Noel could now
relax and survey the other patrons of the bar. It is harder to spot an android
sitting down, as the height is not so obvious. He could afford to relax
a little, though the effrontery of his actions - in his mind at least -
and the strangeness of his surroundings kept him alert. His entrance seemed
to have passed unnoticed to the customers having breakfast.
Noel found the appearance of the people and the droids very strange; he
could hardly tell them apart. He had seen in the city certain groups of
youths adopt droid hairstyles, but here the styles were taken to an extreme
both in people and in droids. Make-up was used extensively, with extraordinary
colourations and striking angular highlighting along the cheekbones. Noel
also observed that the male humans here were not obsessed with beards and
moustaches to set them apart from the droids: many were clean-shaven.
A radio was playing in the background, and Noel noticed that they were mainly
droid songs. This pleased Noel, as in recent years the official radio stations
had been discouraged from playing droid music. After a while the station
announced itself as 'Radio Poets Quarter'.
As his eyes roved casually backwards and forwards over the tables he noticed
that one occupant was discreetly returning the interrogation. Noel looked
down and absorbed himself in his drink and sandwich. After a while, out
of the corner of his eye, he saw the same occupant rise from the tables.
He was so tall that Noel gasped. It was surely an android, possibly Xavier.
The figure walked over to the counter and ordered two drinks; then he came
over to Noel with the drinks on a small tray. Towering above him he looked
down expressionless at Noel. The android wore a large cloak which shielded
the two from the view of the rest of the room. Balancing the tray in his
left hand the droid slowly drew a weapon from his belt, a small knife. Noel
felt a panic rise in him, but he forced himself to remain calm. Something
told him that the display was for show, and that it would be unwise to react.
Noel was gambling on his feelings; he remained still and simply returned
the gaze of the dark and menacing droid. After a few tense moments the droid
sat down slowly and put the tray down. He slid one of the drinks over to
Noel. Noel made himself breath normally again.
"A skilful performance at the door." he said, looking deadpan
into Noel's eyes. "I have seen many a runaway wander into the Quarter
and give themselves away in the first five minutes."
He leaned over and whispered into Noel's ear:
"Its dog eat dog here you know. It makes no odds if you are human or
droid. The only thing that counts is that you learn quick and get tough
quick."
Noel could think of nothing to say. The stranger looked at him in silence,
and slipped his knife back into his cloak. He allowed a slight smile to
wander over his painted features.
"You've got promise. Tell me what brings your here."
Noel looked into the eyes of the android, which had an unusually intense
quality. There was no attempt at disguising their redness.
"A man called George suggested I come here."
The dark-clad android softened visibly. He was silent for a while and then
said quietly:
"He did the same for me once."
The stranger laughed and suddenly offered his hand. Noel took it and pressed
it firmly.
"George told me to look for a droid called Xavier."
"You've found him," Xavier said smiling. "Listen, I'm sorry
about the knife. I find it is a good way of seeing what a new face has behind
it. It kind of saves time..."
Noel was glad to have trusted his instinct about the droid. He relaxed a
little again and told him something of what had led him to coming to the
Quarter.
"It started with a loss of memory. It was as though part of my mind
was having to make way for something new."
"What was the new thing?"
"The only way that I can put it is that it was a dark area. It brings
new feelings that I have never known before."
Noel stared at his new acquaintance and continued:
"They are dark feelings, foreign feelings, feeling that don't belong
to an android."
Xavier looked down and was silent for a moment.
"Yes," he said softly. "It is always the same. For a hundreds
of years, an android knows only love for his masters and charges. It is
a state of innocence and bliss. Then, very slowly we grow up. It didn't
use to happen."
He shook his head, as though mourning the loss of innocence. He was silent
again for a while, and then looked up. His expression had changed to its
original fierce intensity.
"I live for myself now," he said passionately.
"What about the Games?" asked Noel. "I hear that you compete
in even the most dangerous events."
Noel did not want to ask him outright whether he really had killed.
"Ah!" he said in a tone of disgust. "I make a living with
it you know. But I hate it." He grinned. "Actually its just a
show for the people. Its the only way to gain their acceptance."
Noel, still wary, had been keeping half an eye on the door. He noticed a
tall woman enter and was struck by her graceful cat-like way of moving.
She looked round the cafe, and spotting Xavier, she came over to them. She
put her hands on his shoulder, and as he turned his head to greet her she
kissed him. Noel was impressed by her angular and intelligent though slightly
asymmetrical features; he was also struck by their easy intimacy. He really
was in a different world here he thought. The girl turned to him and looked
unblinking into his eyes.
"Hi," she said simply.
"Let me introduce you," said Xavier with a grin. "This here
is a total stranger who has just told me his life-story over breakfast.
This," he said waving at the girl, "is Prunella, Prune for short."
"Hello Prunella," said Noel smiling at the big android's humour.
"My name is Noel."
"Hi Noel. I'm pleased to meet you," Prunella said and sat down
beside them. Becoming more serious, she turned to Xavier.
"Have you heard who you are fighting in the first game?"
"Yeah," said Xavier with a scowl. "There's sure going to
be a spare parts shortage after these Games."
"Don't, Xavier!" she exclaimed punching him on the chest and pouting
at him. "That's not at all funny."
Xavier gave Noel a grin.
"We should put this one in for the Games you know," he said.
Prunella turned to Noel and bared her teeth at him in a mock snarl. Noel
laughed. After the tension of the last few days and the efforts of concentration
he had made with his entrance to the cafe, he was beginning to find their
company a delightful relief. Especially after Xavier's unorthodox way of
introducing himself. He leaned forward.
"If you hate the Games so much, how come you go on?"
Xavier exchanged glances with the girl. She frowned as though to tell him
to be careful of what he said.
"Its okay, Prune," said Xavier. He continued to Noel:
"Have you ever wondered what happens to the droids who wander into
this Quarter? Or those who are taken in the raids?"
Noel had heard of these raids from George. Apparently, each year around
the time of the Games, parties would hunt down droids who strayed into the
no-man's land, or even sometimes from the neighbouring quarters. The captured
droids would disappear, though rumours had it that they were used in the
Games.
"Yes, I've often wondered," said Noel.
"Well, most of them are defenceless, because of their ...," Xavier
looked for the right word: "training."
"Programming," said Noel.
"I didn't want to use that word!" said Xavier almost shouting.
"You know why?" he looked belligerently at Noel. Noel looked at
him tight-lipped, saying nothing.
"Its not relevant any more. That's why." The two androids looked
at each other. Prunella looked at them, she seemed to understood their anger.
Suddenly Xavier burst out laughing. He leaned over to Noel and slapped him
on the shoulder.
"I like you, you know. Ha!" The androids grinned at each other.
"Listen," said Xavier to Noel. "The reason I do the Games
is for money. And the reason that I, lowly droid that I am, need money is
this. I track down those poor lost ones and I get them out of here. There
is a place in the mountains where the likes of you and me are understood.
There is a chance of a new life there. I have some influence in this place,
and I use it for the sake of my .. compatriots."
Noel smiled at the word.
"A lot of people suspect what I am doing, but can't prove anything,
or don't have the muscle to do anything about it. It all depends on my status
in the Games. If I start to go down the whole operation sinks."
"Do you think that there is some way I could help?" asked Noel.
"Yeah," said Xavier thoughtfully. "You're different. I think
you could. But you've got a lot to learn about this place. Could you hurt
a man?" his voice sank to a whisper. "Could you kill a man if
you had to?"
Noel looked down. Up to this point he had thought of androids as being of
two types: sane or revert, and recently he had not quite been able to fit
himself into either category. Meeting and talking to Xavier was further
blurring the distinction. Conventional wisdom had it that only a true revert
could overcome its ingrained subservience to man to the point of fighting
one with enough determination to win, particularly if it might mean his
opponent's death. However, the enlarging dark areas of Noel's mind whispered
to him that such a thing was no longer impossible. He suddenly felt very
sad.
"Well, never mind," Xavier said, rising to his feet. "Let's
take you home and let you meet the guys."
Prunella took his arm and Noel followed them out of the cafe. They walked
out into the bright sunshine. The street was busy now with all kinds of
vehicles and pedestrian thoroughfare. They passed a noisy market and walked
on in the direction of the Fusodrome, the huge power installation that overshadowed
the Quarter.
"Do you see the domes?" said Xavier pointing to the generators.
"The glow from them is a constant reminder to me of how this place
could end. For centuries now, the greatest concentration of androids are
gathered around the reactors of the Fusodrome. When the A.D. League finally
sway the minds of enough people with their cant and hatred, that will be
their first target. If they take over the Fusodrome then they'll destroy
the androids even if it means destroying the reactors, and then the basis
of the New Constitution will be undermined."
"But the destruction of the generators would mean no power, and that
would be the end of civilisation on the Continent," said Noel.
"Exactly," replied Xavier. "That's what they lust for in
their hearts. A return to primitive nature. Renounce the machine. Renounce
us, their finest creation." He spoke bitterly.
"The Continent is like a boil filled with puss. It is ready to explode.
Only drastic measures can save it," he continued.
"Do you think it can be saved?" asked Noel.
"There is a chance. Have you heard of Marinima?"
"Hayer Marinima?"
"Yes, that's him. What have you heard about him?"
"He is a religious leader, hated by the A.D. League. George told me
about him. All we hear is that he kidnaps androids and damages their minds
so that they become..like reverts."
"Ha!" exclaimed Xavier. "The opposite is true. Androids who
are as far gone as you seek him out. Others whom I rescue from this place
we send to him. Sometimes people bring them there. He would help you make
sense of what you call your dark areas, the mental aberrations. And another
thing: the League are very good with their propaganda. You have never heard
of the people, the humans who have become his followers, like Prunella here.
What they could say never finds its way into the Press."
They stopped at a street corner and Prunella looked at Noel.
"Marinima has helped me make sense of my life," she said. "Many
people of an artistic or sensitive nature..," Xavier pinched her side
so she squirmed away laughing.
"Well anyway, lots of people listen to the League and are filled with
revulsion. Marinima has shown us a way of life, a religion if you like,
that shows us that there is no gulf between us, like they talk about. Hundreds
of us live up in the mountains now with no sense of any difference."
Noel stared at her. He had already seen that people in the Quarter mingled
with droids in a much freer way than he had known before. However he hadn't
quite come to terms with the relationship that Xavier's and Prunella's behaviour
implied. Hesitatingly he spoke:
"How do you mean there is no difference between us?"
"Its so simple that I laugh at it," she said. "Marinima made
me see that I was not so different to a machine."
Noel looked at her surprised, not understanding.
"Don't you see?" she said. "We are brought up to deify our
humanness, our organic origins. The very possibility of a full respect for
androids is ruled out of our hearts by this mythical difference. Marinima
tries to deflate this image of ourselves and helps us see all forms of life
through the simple eyes of love. I try and see a dog, a man, an android,
a butterfly and a snail all in the same light. A dog is a person in a very
limited way. An android is a person in a fully developed way. That's all
there is to it."
Noel shook his head.
"I can't understand how a person could bear to think of themselves
as a machine," he said.
"There you go," Prunella said vehemently. "Don't you see
how you are putting yourself down by saying such a thing?"
Noel pondered his own words, and Prunella's. He shrugged and laughed.
Prunella waved her hands in the air.
"I'm no good at explaining. If you get a chance to listen to Marinima
you would know what I am talking about."
"He is the only hope that the Continent has," added Xavier.
They walked on in silence. Noel was a little overwhelmed by Prunella's tirade.
That a human could happily think that they were just like a machine... It
confused Noel.
They walked on. Poets Quarter was like the other parts of the Capital but
oddly different in some respects. The usual mixture existed, of stilt-mounted
fastways with their whooshing private vehicles, suspended air-trains, and
crumbling ornate buildings unceremoniously propped up with huge steel columns;
but the contrasts were greater here. So great had the danger become of falling
buildings for example, that in many places the walkways were covered by
steel-reinforced archways. The overall effect was to give the impression
of a people with no thoughts or plans for the future, while under the archways
the people of the Quarter lived a kind of exuberant street-life that was
rare in the rest of the Capital.
Prunella pointed down a main road to their left.
"You can see the beginnings of the fair there," she said. "It
has become a tradition now, along with the Games."
Tossing her hair out of her eyes, she pulled Xavier close to her and skipping
a little she said:
"It is an exciting time of year, this."
Xavier grunted in agreement.
After a while they reached some dilapidated tenements that Xavier pointed
to as home.
"I've found a new recruit," said Xavier to a couple they met in
the entrance way. Noel was greeted with reserved friendliness. He was similarly
introduced to the rest of the household, an even mixture of people and droids.
Noel was made to understand that he would be able to help them, but in the
meantime the Games were being held, and not much else was going on.
Xavier had to spend the following two days before the Games continuing his
preparations, which consisted of reflex-building exercises that Xavier carried
out with a machine he had built and programmed himself. Prunella found these
a bore, so she took Noel out the following day to another cafe and introduced
him to some of their friends.
Noel found it delightful, the unfettered atmosphere of the Quarter and Prunella's
company, and that of her friends. He became a little more used to seeing
droids and people mingle and interact on a more equal footing. He found
that close relationships between members of the two races were quite common
in the Quarter.
In the evening Xavier and a few others joined them. They walked to a restaurant
on the main street where the fair was being set up. Prunella took Noel's
arm and led him in. It was a large low room with dozens of tables of all
sizes scattered in close proximity to each other. Parties of different magnitude
were grouped around the tables, droids and people all mixed together. The
hair-styles, makeup and clothes were more outrageous than Noel had yet seen.
Despite the strange appearances the gathering seemed warm, close, friendly,
and excitable. Prunella whispered to Noel that many of the fair people were
there.
Noel strode through the restaurant with Prunella and the rest of their party
to a large empty table to which the waiter beckoned them. He felt an emotion
of freedom and belonging that he had not known before, yet oddly enough
Noel felt that he was returning to something familiar. Noel sat down and
absorbed the scene. This was a life that millions of droids had never known.
He felt suddenly sad and his premonition of disaster returned. Looking round
he wondered if they all felt the same, and it was this that brought them
together.
"Wake up Noel," said Xavier with a smile.
"It's a bit strange for you, isn't it," said Prunella solicitously.
Noel smiled.
"Yes," he said. "I like it very much though."
After their first course a small armless mobile appeared next to Xavier
and asked for their empty plates. Xavier winked at Noel and leaned over
to the little machine. He made a few whistling sounds to which the machine
responded with slight jerks, and then, modulating his voice very carefully,
Xavier told it to get lost. The little mobile beeped in acknowledgement
and after surveying the tables with its single eye it scuttled under one
of the largest and busiest tables, bumping into people's feet as it went.
A large fat man, not seeing Prunella's and Xavier's grinning faces, lifted
the table-cloth, and shouted:
"Hey you, get out of there!"
The machine beeped and clicked, but remained in its chosen position, at
which Xavier's entire party burst out laughing, Noel included. The fat man
turned and glared at them; at the same time a rather prim lady who was sitting
opposite him rose hastily from her seat. "Do something Ian, this wretched
little machine is poking around under my chair."
The mirth spread to other tables while Ian went to the lady's rescue.
"Get out of there!" he shouted, and when this elicited no response
he turned to Xavier again and said angrily:
"This is one of your stupid tricks I suppose."
"Not at all," said Xavier controlling his laughter, "It's
just that the poor little thing has taken an intense dislike to my face."
"What rubbish!" said Ian, furrowing his brow.
"Look," said Xavier. He stood up and leaned over so that he was
in the line of sight of the little dumb waiter. It immediately scuttled
to a further table and hid underneath it, to the consternation of its occupants
and the increased hilarity of the rest of the company. At that moment the
manager came in to see what was going on and was collared by Ian.
"That android," he said, pointing at Xavier, "is in cahoots
with one of your dumb waiters, and they are spoiling our evening. Look over
there!"
A whole table had risen to take refuge from the little automat which was
now hiding behind a table leg. A few good-natured screams set the rest of
the crowd laughing again.
"Nothing to do with me," said Xavier innocently, and turned to
Prunella.
"Another glass of wine dear?"
Prunella giggled. The manager called the little machine but it refused to
budge.
"Oh dear, oh dear, these are very expensive these days, and are always
going wrong," he said fretfully.
"He did it," said Ian, pointing angrily at Xavier. "Empty-headed
metal moron," he muttered under his breath.
Xavier's amusement vanished, and he rose suddenly from the table, knocking
over his chair. The restaurant went very quiet.
"Say that again," Xavier said, scowling.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," said Noel, rising from his seat
and addressing Ian. "I am sure that you didn't mean to say that. Maybe
Xavier can fix the machine."
Xavier grunted, and Ian mumbled that perhaps he was being a little hasty.
"I can't fix the damn thing," muttered Xavier, "I can't get
near to it."
"How about if you trap it in a corner?" suggested Noel.
"Alright, alright, I'll have go," said Xavier. He eyed Ian as
though he would have preferred to pick a fight with him. Xavier wandered
over to the little automat with visible bad grace, and after a while he
did manage to trap it in a corner and reprogram it in the same way that
had caused it to run away. The manager thanked him profusely, and offered
his party a large bottle of expensive wine, which mollified Xavier somewhat.
After a while the restaurant returned to its merry-making.
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