Return to Atlantis: A Novel by Andy McDermott Page A

of the building—Takashi-san’s private elevator, and one for maintenance. But the maintenance elevator is controlled by computer, so you will have to climb up.”
    “There are security cameras on the stairs, I take it.” Jiro nodded. “So how do I get into this central core?” Eddie asked as he checked the gun. It was fully loaded with twelve nine-millimeter rounds.
    “There is a door used by the cleaning robots. You will—”
    “Wait, the what? Jesus, is everything in this place robotic?”
    “You will have to be careful,” Jiro continued impatiently. “The door only opens for the robots, and they stop if a person gets too close. For safety.” He scribbled a rough map from the office to the service entrance. “When you are inside, there is an elevator that goes to the maintenance hub on the forty-fourth floor. From there … you are on your own.”
    “Looks like I already am,” Eddie said scathingly asJiro hurriedly prepared to leave. “What if I run into anybody on the way?”
    “There is a fake pass in the bag, so put it on. If you look as though you know where you are going, no one will be suspicious.”
    Eddie took out the laminated pass. He couldn’t help noticing that its picture was not of him; the grinning youth with extravagantly styled hair seemed to have been clipped out of a magazine advert. “Only way this could’ve looked less like me would be if you’d used a photo of Pamela Anderson.”
    “All you
gaijin
look the same. I am going now.” Jiro donned his coat and scurried out. “Be sure no one sees you leave my office.”
    “Not going to wish me luck?” Eddie called after him. He examined the crude map and memorized the route, then affixed the bogus pass to his jacket. He opened the door a fraction. Nobody was in the corridor. He pocketed the gun and set out.
    The stereotype of the long Japanese working day seemed to have some truth to it; even though it was clocking-off time, there was plenty of activity in the offices he passed. A moment of concern as a door opened ahead of him, but the woman who emerged, carrying a large bundle of documents, hurried past without even giving him a glance.
    A couple of turns, and he saw the service door ahead. It was lower and wider than he had expected, less than four feet high—and had no handle. It bore a large NO ENTRY logo. The system was fully automated. In that case, he needed a robot …
    One presented itself as he reached the junction at the corridor’s end. He had half-expected a mop-wielding android French maid, but this was merely a large rounded-off box, a simplistic “face”—two dots for eyes and a smiling curve of a mouth—picked out by glowing lights on its front. Rotating brushes whirled under its bumper-car-like skirt, leaving a damp trail on the floorin its wake. It slowly hummed toward him. When it was a yard away, it stopped. A voice came from the machine, speaking in Japanese with a subservient tone. He guessed that it was asking him to get out of its way.
    Eddie stepped back. The robot set off again, heading for the service door. He followed. This would be easier than he’d expected—
    The robot stopped once more. Its sensors apparently scanned in all directions. He retreated a step. It resumed, the hatch sliding open as it approached. There was barely an inch of clearance on all sides. He would have to wait for it to get all the way through before he could enter …
    The door snapped shut the moment it was inside.
    “Buggeration and fuckery!” Eddie growled. He poked at the hatch, but it was almost flush with the wall, giving him nothing to grip. And attempting to force it open would definitely attract attention. He would have to find another robot and try again. Trying to look purposeful, he headed down one of the corridors.
    It didn’t take long for him to spot a telltale polished trail on the floor. He followed it, quickly catching up with another machine. It was heading away from the hatch, though; no