Jack L. Chalker - Hotel Andromeda (SSCol)

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CONTENTS

FIRST NIGHTER

Karen Haber

THE ROOM KEY

Terry Kepner

TELLING HUMAN STORIES

Margaret Ball

THE SMALL PENANCE OF IADY DISDAIN

Michael Coney

RHUUM SERVICE

Brad Feiguson

SOFT IN THE WORLD. AND BRIGHT

M. Shayne Bell

TO CARESS THE FACE OF GOD

Dove Wolverfon

GLASS WALLS

Krfsfine Kafhryn Rusch

FACE TIME

Janet Kagan

IT'S A GIFT

Esther M. FriQsner

THE HAPPY HOOKERMORPH

Kevin J. Anderson

VOLATILE MIX

Jerry Off/on

FIRST NIGHTER

Karen Haber

Lekvich Tor was excited, perhaps'even a bit overly excited.

But why not? he told himself. Tonight was going to be a

big night. The biggest.

He stared at his image in the holomirror and saw exactly

the same thing that he had seen when he had looked at him-

self not two minutes before: a short, stocky young man of

eighteen, with pale purple skin, red hair cut into fashionable

swirls, and amber-colored eyes. wearing a blue uniform with

the logo of the Hotel Andromeda set in golden glowstitch

against the right shoulder.

Proudly, Lekvich Tor shot his glowstitched cuffs. He

looked fine, even if he did say so himself. It was his first

night on full duty at the Hotel Andromeda concierge desk and

he couldn't quite believe that he was actually working for

such a wonderful place. He, Lekvich Tor, fifth son of Velia

Tor, bom and raised on the fringes of the galaxy on the col-

ony world of Vladimir's Folly, beginning his career at the

2 Karen Haber

biggest orbital hotel complex in the sector. Not just a hotel, he

reminded himself, but a space terminal and stopping point for

every liner passing through the area! He took one last approv-

ing look at himself, then turned and hurried to his new post

in the main lobby of the hotel-

The grand lobby of the Hotel Andromeda was a huge cir-

cular affair, well lit and alive with people, noise, and move-

ment. Its circumference was lined by curving service desks

above which hung holosigns indicating their different func-

tions: reception, cashier, messages, concierge. Robot dollies

hovered inches above the deep blue carpeting, ferrying bag-

gage to and from the hotel's main portals. Public announce-

ments in every known language in the galaxy resounded from

multiple speakers.

The din would have overwhelmed a smaller space but

somehow the great arcing gold-flecked dome of the lobby

managed to contain and reduce the noise until it was a con-

stant buzz, unobtrusive but electrifying.

Enormous viewing bays were set into the north and south

poles of me lobby, providing tantalizing glimpses of distant

stars, nebulas, and passing asteroids. The constant flow of

space traffic could be seen as well: liners docking, modules

uncoupling and chugging toward the hotel terminal while oth-

ers returned to their mother ships. There was an endless

changing show taking place just outside those windows and

many guests had assembled in the viewing lounges to take a

better, more leisurely look.

Lekvich Tor forced his eyes away from outer space and

gazed around the lobby in ever greater excitement The vast

hanging chandeliers with their yellow glow globes moving up

and down! The people hurrying to and fro in every manner of

dress imaginable! The sense of urgency, of important business

being transacted just inches away, was palpable and intoxicat-

ing. He was dazzled by the sophistication of the decor, the

cosmopolitan mix of people. Every shape, every size, every

color. He couldn't help staring in fascination. Perhaps some-

day he would become accustomed to all of this, possibly even

take it for granted. He smiled at the thought of that distant,

sophisticated Lekvich Tor, then shook his head. How could he

ever take all this wonder for granted? Impossible. There was

too much to see: everything was new and amazing.

FIRST NIGHTER 3

His supervisor. Ranee Franklin, was monitoring the con-

cierge board. She was a middle-aged woman with green eyes,

white hair, and a cool, professional demeanor, which he en-

vied. She greeted him with a nod. "You're early, Lekvich.

Good."

Lekvich Tor smiled. He felt dazed and suddenly tongue-

tied.

"Nervous?" Ranee asked.

"Nervous? Who, me?" He shook his head too many times.

"Ranee, do you think that tonight I will see a great many

aliens?" he blurted, barely able to contain himself.

"Of course." She looked at him in surprise and said

sharply, "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No. I mean, I hope not. What I mean is, I've never seen

any before."

"You're in for a treat, then." Her smile was a bit sour at the

edges but Lekvich Tor didn't quite understand why.

"Look," she said. "Do you think you can handle the con-

sole for a couple of minutes? I've got to run to the loo."

Lekvich Tor blushed with pride and embarrassment. Al-

ready, she trusted him enough to leave him in charge. To

share intimate information about bodily needs! His purplish

skin glowed with pleasure. "You can count on me."

"I hope so." She handed him the concierge headset.

He watched her broad back as she strode away toward the

staff lavatory. A powerful woman, not unlike his mother.

Carefully, almost reverently he fit the headset around his ears

and mouth.

The con board lay before him, its glittering display of lights

winking lazily, red and blue and yellow and green. He would

fax his mother tonight and tell her that he had been selected

for extra responsibilities and for once she would boast about

him to his brothers instead of the other way around.

Bzzzzzt!

A call! Someone was ringing from—he checked the screen

carefully—room 1522. And Ranee had not returned. Which

meant that he, Lekvich Tor, must take the call. Hands trem-

bling, he filled his lungs with air and punched the appropriate

flashing button-

"Hotel Andromeda, concierge," he said. His voice sounded

a little high, he thought. He'd have to watch that. He took a

4 Karen Haber

deep breath, pressed his hand against his diaphragm, and tried

to modulate his tone downward. "Good evening."

"There's a Voltorran bat in my room!"

"Sir?"

"I said, there's a Voltorran bat in my room! Hanging from

the chandelier."

"I'm afraid you want Housekeeping—"

"I distinctly ordered a Mykonian bat, in fact, four of them.

With hot mustard."

"One moment, please," Lekvich Tor said. "I'm cross-

scanning the net. Ah, yes. I see. It was room 527 that re-

quested the live Voltorran bat with implant and sonar control.

I'll send someone up to collect it and deliver your order at

once. Our apologies for the inconvenience."

"Make it fast. I'm starving."

"Yes, sir. And to compensate you for the inconvenience,

the bats will be on the house." Ranee had often told him:

"Smooth frayed tempers with freebies."

"Good. Appreciate it."

Lekvich Tor shut down the line and grinned happily. His

first official call and he had handled it without a hitch! If only

Ranee had been there to hear him. Certainly she would have

approved. But she was nowhere to be seen. Oh well, women

spent more time than men in the WC. he knew that. He would

be patient and wait, and perhaps he would even be able to

take another call before Ranee returned.

Sure enough, he had no time to savor his triumph. The call

line was buzzing once more.

"Good evening. Hotel Andromeda, concierge. Can I help

you?"

"No. I mean, yes. That is to say, I'm not quite sure." The

speaker had a pleasant baritone voice and sounded like a

middle-aged Terran.

A high, shrill voice cut in. "Don't listen to him, he's ly-

ing."

"No, he's not," said a silky female contralto. "Oh, this is all

terrible, just terrible."

Lekvich Tor was taken aback by the jumble of voices.

"Hello? Excuse me, please," he said. "Is this still room 1274?

I'm afraid there's been some mistake. Two calls seem to have

crossed. I hear more than one voice on this line."

FtRST NIGHTER 5

"No, there's been no mistake." The baritone sighed deeply.

"We're all in here, together."

"I don't understand, sir. Your room is listed as single occu-

pancy."

"I'm from Veroni-Anspel."

"Oh." Lekvich Tor was stunned. He had read about the

Veroni-Anspelians but he had never expected to talk to one,

much less one apparently in estrus. He felt his cheeks grow-

ing hot at the very thought.

"Forgive me," he said- "I hadn't realized." One fact blazed

in his mind, remembered from his hotel training: Veroni-

Anspelians developed multiple personalities during estrus.

Lekvich Tor didn't know what to say next, or to whom he

would be saying it. Luckily, the Veroni-Anspelian rescued

him from his confusion.

"I'm afraid that I miscalculated the onset of my period," he

said. "And so I've arrived completely unprepared."

"Not to worry, sir," Lekvich Tor replied, thinking rapidly.

"Our pharmacy can supply you with personality dampers."

"Do you have super absorbent?"

"Yes. Five- or ten-day supply?"

*Ten. And please tell them to hurry."

"No, forget it," said a basso-profundo voice.

And the high, shrill voice cried, "Leave us alone! That's

all. Just leave us alone!"

"Shut up, all of us'" bellowed the Veroni-Anspelian.

"Don't worry," Lekvich Tor said. "I'm sending the order to

the pharmacy right now."

"Thank you."

'To hell with you," said the high, shrill voice.

"Good-bye," Lekvich Tor said quickly.

He hung up feeling a bit unnerved but quite pleased by the

way in which he had handled the call. He couldn't wait to tell

Ranee about his progress—but she still had not returned from

the ladies' room. Perhaps she had fainted. Women had that

tendency, he knew, because his mother would often faint

when her children did something of which she disapproved.

Should he send someone to look for her? Anxiously he

scanned the lobby. No Ranee. Well, don't panic, he told him-

self. At least wait a few minutes more. Surely she'll come

back soon. She's probably on her way right now.

6 Karen Haber

Bzzzt!

"Hotel Andromeda, concierge."

"Yes, this is room 3251. I have a euthanasia appointment

tomorrow at noon."

Lekvich Tor scanned the records quickly. "Mr. Ediin, yes."

"I'd like to reschedule. Something came up."

"Same time next week?"

"That would be fine."

Lekvich Tor made the notation. "I'll see that Euthenetics

gets the message."

Bzzzzt!

"Hotel Andromeda—"

"I want to talk to robodealer forty-five in the casino."

"I'm sorry, sir," Lekvich Tor said smoothly. "Those lines

are busy. But I'd be happy to place your bet for you."

"Swell. I'd like to bet on the cyberraces."

"Which steeds?"

"Halley's Snowball."

'To win, place, or show?"

"Place."

"Very good, sir. As you know, your winnings or your fee

wilt be applied to your hotel account."

"Much obliged."

Lekvich Tor shut down the call, sat back on the web seat

behind the con board, and crossed his arms in satisfaction.

Maybe Ranee was never coming back. And maybe he didn't

care-

Bzzzt!

"Good evening. Hotel Andromeda, concierge."

"I need an unabridged edition of Dante's Slippers by Rock-

well, translated into English III."

"An English III version?" Lekvich Tor scanned the library

scrolls and his spirits fell. "I'm terribly sorry, ma'am. The

only edition we currently have available on line is in

English II."

"Can you have it updated?"

"Let me check the translation grid. Hmnun, they're not too

busy right now. Yes, ma'am, they should be able to have it for

you in roughly half an hour."

"That's fine."

FIRST NIGHTER 7

"Very good, ma'am. I'll have it delivered to you when it's

ready."

As he rang off he saw that the woman had tabbed a gener-

ous tip into his account. Lekvich Tor grinned broadly.

Bzzzt!

Lekvich Tor nearly flew to the console. "Hotel Andromeda,

concierge."

"Lekvich?"

"Yes?"

"This is Ranee. They were cleaning the ladies' room so I

went down to deck five. But that one was filled with

Mantarian troglodyte nurses and I couldn't hear myself think

straight so I'm on deck nine now. It shouldn't be much

longer."

She hung up before he could say a word.

Lekvich shrugged philosophically. She would be back soon,

surely.

Bzzzt!

"Hotel Andromeda, concierge.

"Yes, I've just conceived a child."

"Beg pardon?"

"Are you deaf? I said I've Just conceived a child. Ten min-

utes ago."

Lekvich Tor scanned his memory but could not find any

appropriate reference or response from his training. Ner-

vously, he improvised.

"Um, congratulations."

"But I'd like to take a few prenatal precautions. If this one

turns out to get my nose the way the last one did, I'll just

scream."

"I'm sorry, ma'am?" Now he would have given anything to

see Ranee's broad figure barreling toward him and her hand

reaching for the headset.

"A splicer. Do you have a gene splicer on staff?"

"Oh. Right. I'll have to check." He began to understand

what the caller wanted. But as he flipped through his service

directory, two other lights came on, two other calls buzzing

for his attention. Where was Ranee? He wasn't supposed to

leave any call unattended for more than two rings.

"I'm sony, ma'am," he said. "I'll be right back. Please

hold." He punched up the blue button. "Hotel Andromeda,

8 Karen Haber

please hold." He punched up the red button. "Hotel Androm-

eda." A voice began squawking. He cut it off, "Please hold,"

and returned to the original caller.

"Ma'am, we can have a technician with splicer outside

your door in an hour. I see from our records that she's just

finishing up with a litter of Monosikhs."

"Well, I hope it won't be too long. I can just feel all those

little nasal cells dividing inside me even as we speak."

Lekvich Tor frowned. "Actually, ma'am, as I understand

Terran reproductive processes, it's really too soon for that sort

of cell specialization, isn't it?"

"Don't be so literal, silly. I was joking. And tell your

splicer to hurry just the same. Who knows what kind of trou-

ble an unsupervised zygote can get into?"

"She'll be there in a flash." In a blaze of inspiration

Lekvich remembered a key note from his training manual:

meet all needs, cover all contingencies. "And," he said, "in

case you have any complications, ma'am, you might be inter-

ested to know that we can also provide termination services."

"Really? Excuse me for a moment"—her voice grew

muffled—"honey, they're offering terminations as well.

What do you think? Still want to go through with it? Re-

member what happened with the last one, the police, the

mutations, and all that fuss. Still want to? Honestly, you're

such a sentimental softy. Of course if you want him or her

then I want him or her."

Lekvich Tor watched the other calls blinking and wished

that he had six ears, three mouths, and six arms. Why hadn't

they hired an Arcadian arachnian to handle this job? "Very

good, ma'am," he said, putting a bit more volume into his

voice to regain her attention. "Room 2651?"

"That's right." She sighed theatrically. "He always gets so

attached to his own children."

As Lekvich watched in horror, one of the blinking lights on

the console went out. A caller had actually hung up! Lekvich

wanted to hang his head in shame, but the con line receiver

would have cut off his circulation.

"Good-bye, ma'am." With an urgency bordering on panic

he snatched up the remaining call. "Concierge. I'm terribly

sorry you had to wait."

"Who's this?" demanded a deep male voice.

FIRST NIGHTER 9

"Lekvich Tor."

"Isn't Ranee on tonight?"

"She just stepped away from the desk—"

'Tell her to call Scadool when she gets back."

"Would you like to leave a message? A number where you

can be reached?"

"She knows."

Before Lekvich Tor could say more, the caller hung up.

Ranee had now been away from the console for almost an

hour. Lekvich Tor was growing more and more worried about

her. Surely she had found an acceptable bathroom by now in me

huge hotel complex. He couldn't leave his post to look for her.

Should he send someone else? If he alerted the night manager,

Ranee might get in trouble. But what if she were already in

trouble? Lekvich felt his head swimming. He decided to wait

another five minutes and then to inquire—discreetly—if some-

one could please look for his supervisor in me ladies* room.

An orange, fur-covered humanoid from Fragis Ipsilon ap-

proached the desk on three of its six limbs. "Excuse? Excuse?"

Lekvich Tor took a deep breath. It was his first alien, face-to-

face. Luckily it seemed to speak some English. "Yes? How can

I help you?" he said.

"Halp, yesh- Halp."

"That's what I said. How can I be of service?"

"Servish?" The Fragis Ipsilonian seemed puzzled by the

concept. His eyestalks drooped in what must have been con-

fusion. "Servish? Thish one?"

Lekvich Tor felt his patience begin to unravel. "Yes, I'm

the concierge," he said. "At the moment, anyway. What can

I do for you?"

"Rum," said the Ipsilonian.

"You want the bar?" Lekvich Tor said. "But I thought alco-

hol was poisonous to Ipsilonians.

"Rum, plish."

Lekvich stared at the matted orange fur in growing confu-

sion. What did it want? To drink? To commit suicide? To

drive Lekvich Tor crazy?

Bzzzt!

"Excuse me," he said, turning to the board. "Concierge."

"This is room 2651, again." The caller sounded tearful. "I

Karen Haber

want to cancel the genetic splicer and order a relationship

counselor instead."

"Yes, ma'am. Any specialization?"

"No! Just get one up here!" She blew her nose noisily. "And

huny."

"Of course."

"Excuse." The orange Ipsilonian was still standing there.

"Rum, plish."

Lekvich Tor felt tears of frustration forming in his eyes.

What did this creature want from him? If only he had paid

more attention to languages during training. Was a rum plish

an exotic drink? He had a sudden hysterical image of the

Ipsilonian sitting at a table in the Andromeda bar, a pink

drink with a parasol in at least three of its six paws. Then he

imagined the Ipsilonian keeling over. The screams. The law-

suits. The unemployment office.

"Ah, Ambassador Syxxxch, there you are."

Blonde and immaculate Terralynne Stag, the assistant night

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摘要：

CONTENTSFIRSTNIGHTERKarenHaberTHEROOMKEYTerryKepnerTELLINGHUMANSTORIESMargaretBallTHESMALLPENANCEOFIADYDISDAINMichaelConeyRHUUMSERVICEBradFeigusonSOFTINTHEWORLD.ANDBRIGHTM.ShayneBellTOCARESSTHEFACEOFGODDoveWolverfonGLASSWALLSKrfsfineKafhrynRuschFACETIMEJanetKaganIT'SAGIFTEstherM.FriQsnerTHEHAPPYHOOK...

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Jack L. Chalker - Hotel Andromeda (SSCol)

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