Andromeda Day and the Black Hole (2 page)

So he’d done everything he could to raise
the cash. He had scraped together what little he had, borrowed even more and
stolen the rest. And the operations had gone ahead.

To Deneb’s relief, the improvements had
proven to be an astounding success. It had taken Andi six months to recover
from the grueling procedures, and there were times when the replaced parts of
her brain and heart had to be monitored and adjusted for optimum performance,
but eventually she was cleared by the doctors and released from the hospital.

Unfortunately, there was more than one
authority waiting outside the ORC to question Deneb on missing funds. Andi had
been shocked when she’d found out just how much money he owed, and a little
frightened when she realized there was no way they could pay anyone back. So
when Deneb had suggested that they leave Earth, Andi had agreed without an
argument, as she didn’t want her father to go to prison. They both missed their
home planet, of course, and although it was never mentioned, they both knew it
was unlikely that they would ever return. But Deneb felt that his exile was a
small price to pay, because he had his daughter back, as good as new.

Except, of course, that she was far better
than she had been before the operation. Deneb, however, had no idea about
Andi’s improved brain functions. He knew that her body worked as well as it had
before, and that was all he was worried about. But he didn’t have a clue what
her abilities were now that part of her brain was a computer, and she doubted
he’d even given it a second thought.

Andi didn’t feel any different after the
operation. However, she’d discovered her improved abilities soon after leaving
the hospital. She’d found out that she had an amazing memory, and could, for
example, recall pages of text and figures after looking at them for just a
second. She could work out complex equations without a calculator, and she
could understand easily some of the new scientific theories that even the top
scholars struggled with.

At first, she’d been delighted with these
new talents. Well who wouldn’t? And she’d taken great pleasure in applying her
newfound knowledge in her lessons.

And then, of course, she’d realized that
not everyone was as happy about her having a computer brain as she was. She’d
discovered that other people found her intimidating, to say the least—many more
found her threatening, and even repulsive. Other students became angry when
they thought she had an unfair advantage over them. They demanded that she
leave the class, and she did so, to avoid having to take the matter to Deneb. Because
if she told him the truth, that she was ostracized because of the improvements
that he’d stolen money to pay for, she knew he would never forgive himself. It
would make him unhappy, and the death of her mother had scarred him deeply
enough. She didn’t want to add to his pain.

And so she’d hidden her abilities deep
inside her. No longer did she flaunt her superior brain. And yet, people still
found out somehow, like Merak.

Andi’s bottom lip trembled. She longed to
blurt out the truth, but she wanted to be grown up now and save him from this
distress. “I just find it difficult to make friends,” she said finally. “We
travel around so much, and everyone’s in their own little groups. I’m always on
the outside, that’s all.”

Deneb pulled her to him roughly and she
buried her face in his chest. “I’m sorry Dad,” she said, fighting against the
tears that wanted to pour down her cheeks.

Deneb caught her face in his hands and
brought it up so he gazed into her eyes. She looked into his, dark blue like
Earth’s sky at dusk, at his handsome face, with his swept back, light brown
hair.

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” he
said fiercely, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. “It’s I who should apologize
to you. It’s my fault we can’t go back to Earth. I know I shouldn’t have stolen
all that money. But what option did I have?”

Andi said nothing for a moment.  He had
done so much to bring her back from the dead. How could she throw that in his
face and say that she wished she’d died in the pod crash? She couldn’t lie and
say she’d never thought about it, had never wished that Deneb had just switched
off the machines and let her go. But that was only in her worse moments. Most
of the time, she knew she would much rather be here on board the
Antiquarian
than dead.

She smiled up at Deneb, hugging him tightly
around the waist. “Don’t worry. You did the right thing. I’m glad I’m here with
you. We do all right, don’t we?”

He smiled back, although, as usual, it was
tinged with sadness. “Yes, we do all right.” He kissed her on the top of her
head. “Now, do you want to come with me? We’ve entered Thoume’s orbit.”

“Okay. Let me freshen up and I’ll meet you
on the bridge.”

Deneb left and Andi sighed. She went over
to the washbasin and splashed her face with water, then let the hot air unit
gently dry her skin until it went all tingly. She wished the water could also
wash away the hurt and embarrassment she’d felt at Merak’s remarks. She already
knew that she wasn’t going back to the classroom. It wasn’t compulsory that she
attend anyway, she tried to comfort herself. She could take all the lessons and
exams on board the ship. She only went to the classes because she liked to have
some contact with other Earth children of her own age. But why did she bother? All
they ever did was make her miserable. She was better off being on board the
Antiquarian
with Deneb and the crew, who never gave her improvements any thought.

She pushed Merak and his jealous, angry
eyes to the back of her mind. She had other things to think about now. They
were nearing Thoume, which meant that Deneb would soon be itching to get out
there, making deals. Leaving her behind on board the ship to worry about him,
as usual.

She walked along the thickly carpeted
corridor to the elevator that would take her up to the bridge. The Antiquarian
was not a large starship, with a crew of only thirty or so, but if you didn’t
know the floor plan it would be easy to get lost in its maze of corridors and
levels. Andi never got lost, of course—after six months of living on board she
knew every inch of every floor, and anyway, she had a photographic memory so
she could recall its plan any time she wished, although she tried not to rely
on it. She tried not to rely on any of her extraordinary talents, preferring to
exist on her human skills as much as possible, in an effort to feel more normal.

 It was strange sometimes, she thought,
looking up at the subdued lighting and pale green walls, after living thirteen
years on Earth, to think that now, as she walked along the corridor which
looked exactly the same as one in a habitation sector on her home planet, she
was actually on board a spaceship, hurtling through the stars at twenty times
the speed of light.

Andi was very proud of their ship. It was
an extraordinary shape, the product of the imagination of a man whose mind was
more often than not daydreaming about a time several centuries prior to the one
they were currently in: namely, her father, Deneb.

The
Antiquarian
was actually a
flying museum, the only one in their part of the Galaxy, as far as either of
them knew. It had been Deneb’s idea, of course. He’d been a collector of both
Earth and alien artifacts for many years, and the ship reflected his love of
all things past.

The outer surface of much of the ship was
constructed from a composite called Carbex—a form of Perspex interlaced with
tiny carbon fibers that made it completely transparent, but also strong enough
to withstand the incredible atmospheric pressure of space. The overall effect
of this was that the
Antiquarian
looked as if it were made entirely of
glass, just like the Crystal Palace, the amazing building in Hyde Park in
London where the Great Exhibition had been held in Old-Time nineteenth century.

Like the Palace, the ship had a long
central section with an arching roof similar to the nave of a church, which
served as the museum and housed all of the
Antiquarian’s
major exhibits.
Unlike the Palace, however, at each end of the museum was a large cube-shaped
structure, which in effect made the ship almost the shape of a large dumb-bell.

Andi pondered on her father’s love of
archaeology as she wandered through the corridors. She’d always considered his
passion for the past an amusing quirk of his nature, but in reality it was a
common enough hobby amongst Earth people, many of whom had an interest in their
own history, particularly as there was so little left of it.

Late in the Old-Time twenty-first century,
in a last desperate measure to avoid a third world war, the Coalition of
Countries had been formed, and a collective move had been made by those
involved to try and put all religious differences and historical problems
behind them. They’d tried to achieve this by returning the timeline to zero,
and many historical documents, artifacts, and sites had been destroyed, as it had
been decided that the past was no longer of any importance to a society who
wished only to look forward. Children had begun to be named after stars,
constellations, and planets, and space travel had evolved in leaps and bounds
as scientific research and exploration had become the number one priority.

The Coalition had been successful, partly
at least, because when different peoples of the world had tried to put behind
them the past atrocities committed by other nations and concentrate instead on
how they were being treated in the present, war had soon became a thing of the
past. But of course, all things go in cycles, and it had only taken a few
hundred years or so before people had begun to wonder about their history, and
collecting books and artifacts had become a popular hobby.

So it was with Deneb, except that her
father had an advantage over many other collectors, thought Andi with a smile.  Deneb
was almost as clever as she was with her electronic brain. She sometimes
thought of him as an old-fashioned magician. He was quick, sharp, and smart,
using sleight-of-mind rather than sleight-of-hand, distracting you by talking
fast and convincingly, and before a person knew it they’d handed over the very
thing they’d been convinced in the beginning they were never going to sell. And
if he couldn’t talk them into selling an artifact? Why then he would steal it,
so perhaps you could say he used sleight-of-hand as well.

In this way Deneb had built up a huge
collection of artifacts of civilizations from all over the Galaxy. And after he’d
stolen so much money to pay for Andi’s improvements, and he’d realized that he
was going to have to leave Earth if he didn’t want to go to prison, he’d
decided that he might as well put his collection to good use.

He’d paid to have a ship built—at least he’d
done that much, thought Andi wryly—making the center section the most important
part in his eyes—the museum. Here he’d displayed a selection of all the artifacts,
books, and photographs that he’d collected, with many more being placed in the
archives housed in the bottom cube. Then, taking Andi with him, he’d set off
into space, collecting more artifacts from the various civilizations that he
passed, and charging them to come on board and view the objects that described
life in the Milky Way.

So far, it had been a very successful
venture, Andi thought, as she turned left into another green-carpeted corridor,
heading for the elevators at the end. Most species were eager to pay to see how
others lived, and it wasn’t long before they were making a tidy profit, enough
at least to keep the ship repaired and themselves and their small crew fed and
clothed. Of course, it was only a matter of time before one of the crime
protection organizations in the Galaxy caught them, as many of Deneb’s displays
were still acquired by borrowing them without permission (as Deneb called it—Andi
called it stealing), but she was happy enough travelling through the Universe,
meeting ever stranger species, and trying to keep Deneb out of trouble.

The elevator doors swished open at her
approach to reveal a large cylindrical room. She stepped inside and said,
firmly: “Bridge, please.” The please wasn’t strictly essential, but Andi always
liked to be polite, even when speaking to the central computer. They called it
the Waiter—although Andi tended to think of it as a ‘him’ rather than an ‘it’.

“Yes, Andi,” said the Waiter in his low, pleasant
voice. The doors swished shut, and the elevator rose smoothly.

The bridge, the crew’s quarters, the
galley, mess, and recreational levels comprised the top cube of the
Antiquarian
.
The museum formed the main middle section, and the bottom cube consisted of the
museum archives, the main engine room and the cargo bay.

The crew were a strange hotchpotch of
peoples. Many of them were runaways, like her and Deneb—people who had
committed some minor crime on their home planet and were thus unable to return
there, for some time at least. Deneb wasn’t proud and allowed anyone on his
ship that was committed and worked hard. But everyone knew that if you didn’t
knuckle down, and if you treated the ship as a free ride, you were offloaded
onto the nearest planet with a breathable atmosphere. As the
Antiquarian
passed through the Galaxy, occasionally one of the crew members would find a
place they felt they could settle down, and then they would leave the ship, but
there was always someone else waiting to step aboard, someone happy to work
hard if they had food and somewhere to sleep. There was always something
happening, some scrape that they were getting into, that made the
Antiquarian
an interesting place to be.