Journey to Xanadu
By Sarah McEvoy
Copyright 2012 Sarah McEvoy
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To the memory of Isaac Asimov, who first taught me to love robots.
The late afternoon sunshine glittered through thousands of triangular glass panes, reflecting brightly off the polished railings of the upper level and dully from the grit-scarred hulls on the ground below. From where Akira Sengupta stood, leaning over the railings, a little crawler robot could be seen in silhouette, blocking out the direct light of the sun. It was peeling off worn pieces of clear dust film from the panes and replacing them carefully with new ones. Akira watched it for a moment or two, then looked downwards among the ships for the unfortunately named Waltzing Matilda. It ought to be somewhere down there.