• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 671 0

hoped that whoever they were their plumbing was compatible. The bed was a good sign but one should never make hasty assessments about alien physiology, even when one is bursting to go.

'I think each of the bathrooms is different,' said Roz later. They were sitting on the first-floor balcony and drinking Turkish coffee from heat-resistant glasses. 'Mine had this enormous sunken bath, solid marble, gold taps, the works.'

'If you don't mind,' said Bernice, 'I think I'll use your bathroom in future. I'm not sure I like bathing in mid air.'

'My parents had a bath like that. Suspensor pools were very fashionable fifty years ago' – Roz frowned – 'my time.'

'At least we know they must be humanoid,' said Bernice. 'My "human waste disposal interface"

was completely compatible.'

'I've never heard it called that before.'

'It's what my father used to call toilets.'

'Your father was in the Navy, right?'

Bernice sipped her coffee. Why was she thinking of her father now? 'Outer System Patrol,' she said. 'He was a sucker for long complicated euphemisms.'

'At least the toilets round here don't try and wipe your arse afterwards,' said Roz. 'I hate the ones that do that.'

'Tell me about it.' Good old Roz, you could always rely on her to get the conversation down to ground zero reality point. 'I wonder what they're like? The people that built this place.'

'They're certainly very advanced technologically; it's all very slick,' said Roz. 'But don't count on them being even remotely human. Some of the worst scum I ever dealt with in the Undertown looked just like you and me. On the outside at least.'

Bernice knew better than to let Roz get started on that particular subject. There seemed to be very few alien races that Roz hadn't personally insulted, bashed, shot or arrested, frequently combining all four actions in a single encounter.

'This place has an interesting aesthetic,' Bernice said quickly, 'don't you think?' Actually the villa didn't seem to have any unifying aesthetic at all. It sprawled on the crest of the hill like a tumble of children's building blocks. Five storeys high, the top floor was wider than the ground floor but the third floor protruded ten metres at the back. Sections were built of wood, others of concrete, glass or irregularly shaped bricks. Inside it was worse; although each room was furnished in a different style, they were curiously undifferentiated in purpose. The room behind the first-floor balcony had, by consensus, become the living room but Bernice felt that it would have served just as easily as a bedroom, or for all she knew a kitchen or another bathroom.

'I think this place was built by children,' said Roz.

'Children?'

'Don't you think so?' said Roz. 'It's got that kind of feel to it.'

Bernice snorted. 'Of course,' she said. 'They wandered up here on a Sunday afternoon and made it out of bits and pieces. Old orange boxes, left-over bubble plastic, old discarded cybernetic environmental management systems –'

'Children,' said Roz firmly.

'Absolutely,' said Bernice. 'The Famous Five build a multi-storey hotel. The design is chaotic, even incoherent, but the level of technical sophistication is too high. Trust me on this, Roz; I'm an archaeologist.'

'See that?' Roz pointed over Bernice's shoulder. Bernice twisted in her chair and saw where a silver grey three-metre globe was attached to the wall of the villa.

'Yeah?' asked Bernice cautiously.

'That's Chris's bedroom,' said Roz.

'It takes all types.'

'It detaches,' said Roz. 'When he's asleep, it breaks away from the main building and floats around. Chris thinks the movement could be keyed to his alpha rhythms.'

'And it floats?'

'Around the villa, over the trees and under the sky.'

'Why?'

'Because it's fun,' said Roz. 'Chris loves it. Loves the whole idea of it.'

'I'll bet.'

'Like I said, children.'

Bernice realized that Roz had a point. The villa did have a random quality that could be associated with childhood. As long as you didn't think about the investment in resources that the villa represented. Perhaps the place was empty because