CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dan and Lucy were having trouble.

They had both procured their vouchers and had successfully wheedled an upgrade to Second Class out of the Deskbot, but the trickier negotiation re an upgrade to First Class was proving to be a remarkably harrowing experience.

'You have no Credit Card. You are not members of the Sixty Million Miles Club. You are not even registered Frequent Travellers. This whole discussion is pointless. You will find the Second Class facilities on board this Starship more than adequate for your requirements.'

How could even a robot be so unbelievably, unremittingly snotty, wondered Dan.

'Dan!' said Lucy. 'We're wasting our breath in fact, is it my imagination or is it getting harder to breathe?'

Dan sniffed the air. Lucy was right. It was also getting colder. 'Jesus!' he muttered.

'The air and heating are at normal levels,' announced a Doorbot.

'That's bullshit!' snapped Lucy. 'It's getting colder and it's getting more difficult to breathe!'

'I can assure you that the air supply and the temperature are set to maximum for Super Galactic Traveller Class comfort,' said the Doorbot.

'Are you trying to tell us there are different levels of air supply for the different classes of traveller?' exdaimed Dan.

'Not normally, sir, no,' replied the Doorbot. 'However, should the ship be travelling without First or Second Class passengers, the oxygen and heating will - naturally - be lowered to the comfort requirements of Super Galactic Traveller Class passengers.'

'Jesus!' exclaimed Lucy. You guys are the most cynical bunch I have ever come across!'

'I'm going straight to the Travel Association when I get home!' Dan was not messing about any longer. He was now beginning to sweat with panic despite the cold. 'There isn't enough air to breathe!'

'There is ample air and heat for the Super Galactic Traveller decks, sir, but unfortunately it is getting dispersed over the whole ship.'

Lucy, meanwhile, was back at the Deskbot, hammering on the desk.