"So that's it!" Ser Goggrahib looked at me expectantly while I digested.
He spoke standard Pan, as did everyone. The landlords here were supposed to be t'negi. What was t'negi? Don't ask. I didn't care. Get in, get a place to stay, do my business and move on. I didn't give a fig who, or what, was my landlord. "This is fine."
"How long?"
Two / three nights. Four at most. "Five," I said. You never knew.
I paid, and thought about lugging my bags from the spaceport. Nah. Leave it till tomorrow. I signed my name: Lory Gato, and went up to my room. I was officially booked into Guest House Goggrahib, settlement Prime, on T'negi 36.
First stop the coffee machine. I switched it on and considered my itinerary. The Blue Lagoon (no blue lagoons on this planet) Space Dust, The Star and Dragon, and Earthman, Go Home. This was a t'negi world, so doubtless a t'negi translation of the last would be T'negi, Go Home. What they call their bars isn't my affair. As a star-hopper, I see a lot. Some jokes wear thin.
I hadn't been on a t'negi world before, though. This one was called T'negi 36. Why 36? No idea. If I got bored, I'd pump one of the locals for info.
The buzzer rang. I picked up the com. "Mister Gato, I have a call for you."
Me? Who knew I was here? Well obviously CEAD knew. As one of their commissioning agents, they ought to know. But they were several hundred light-years away. Ergo a com call from base would take several hundred years to reach. Com calls weren't routed through space. If CEAD wanted me they'd push a message through Pagnate. Instantaneous. Da, da-da da-da. "Put it through."
A metronomic voice intoned in English, "Mis-ter-Ga-to- -you-have-lug-gage-to col-lect.- - -I-spon-sor-space-port-hos-pi-tal-it-y-and-of-fer-bar-gain-col-lec-tion-ser-vice." The translator unit must be an early one.
It'd got my details fast. Why was it making the offer now? Was my luggage already through security? Was it worrying it'd be queue-jumped? Why English? I made the mental leap, "Rate?"
"12 t'negi-credits," a different intonation and obviously a different program being called into play; perhaps one standard for robots on this planet.
That sounded steep. "I want to check other collection services." Let it stew. Robotic life was recognised but in practise few held any sympathy for it. Certainly not greedy 'bots.
The original voice returned, "No-oth-er-col-lec-tion-ser-vice."
What? 'Bots haggled. Did they lie? What if it was telling the truth? Still, this was just pin-money. I decided to cough-up and check up on it later. I could always complain. "Go ahead." I completed the transaction and put down the com.
A coffee sat waiting to be sipped. I'd made it while wondering whether to haggle.
The bed was a twin. A door opened to an en-suite. I went to the window. Gauze covered it; I pushed it aside. Alien t'negi architecture with a small admixture of flat-pack human condos, lay before me. Outside was inviting. It's one of the perks of star-hopping. I wanted to stretch my legs but I ought to stay to catch my luggage.
My coffee was getting cold; okay the dregs were. The buzzer rang again. It was my luggage. I went to reception to take delivery.
"Mr. Gato?" A standard infra-red oculus studied me from the apex of a hissing, clanking humanoid shape. The other eye wouldn't have looked out of place on a blood-crazed 'droid. It looked at me, then swivelled to the innards of guest house Goggrahib, before finding something of great interest on the floor. Each gyration was accompanied by the sound of gears and springs. The landlord was nowhere to be seen.
