Life is a Beautiful Thing (4-Book Box Set)

by Harmon Cooper

  “Possibly paid in death.”

  “Death is the ultimate paycheck for a person in our profession,” Keva said, but her tone of voice told Clove that she didn’t really believe this.

  _∞_

  **Portions of the following scene took place in Spanish. They have been translated by Diputado Jorge C. Hopkins for our monolingual audience.

  The escape pod shifted, rocked, and rolled over.

  “Hola,” said a girl-child’s voice.

  “Hello. Can you help me? Can you get me out?” Rinchi said in Spanish. She was thoroughly wedged in the remains of the pod and unable to use her arms or legs to free herself.

  “What’s your name?” the girl asked.

  “Please get me out. I need iNet access. Can you send a message to – ?”

  The girl smashed Rinchi in the face with a crowbar. She hit the Humandroid again.

  “What are you doing!?” Rinchi hissed.

  She felt a hand on her face; the girl’s fingers squeezed around her eyeball.

  “I’m warning you right now,” Rinchi said. “You’d better get me out of here or there will be hell to pay. Hell to pay, you little bitch.”

  The girl’s hand jumped and then relaxed again onto Rinchi’s head. She combed the hair out of the Humandroid’s face.

  A man’s voice. “What the hell is this?”

  “It came into the house, Uncle,” the girl said.

  “Put that crowbar down,” the man said. “And get off that thing!”

  “Señor, please get me out of here.” Rinchi said. “And send a message to … ”

  The man ignored her. He looked around, examined the path of destruction caused by Rinchi’s crash-landing.

  “It came from there?” he finally asked the little girl.

  “Yes, Uncle. It hit that building, destroyed the outhouse, and the garden, and Florencia and Fiorella and Ximena all flew off when it broke the henhouse. Then it came into our house.”

  “Mother of God and all the Saints in Heaven! I am so glad you weren’t hurt.”

  “I was outside playing when it happened.”

  His voice dropped to a whisper. Rinchi boosted her auditory pick-up to interpret what he was saying.

  “That’s a Humandroid, just like the ones I help Mr. Ben with. We should bring it to him.”

  “Should we call the police, Uncle?”

  “No, no. The police will take it and try and sell it back to America somehow. If we bring it to Mr. Ben, he will give us the money for it. And you know that my money is your money, my little flower. We’ll be able to fix the house and the garden and get new chickens – maybe even a goose. Did anyone else see it?”

  “Maybe some neighbors. Did you say a goose?”

  “Never mind the goose, mija,” said the uncle. “I’m going to bring the truck around. Then we will get this thing onto the truck.”

  “How, Uncle? It is very heavy,” she said.

  “We will have to get her out of there ... I know what we’ll do.” The man walked over to her.

  Tesla Discharge. Rinchi had enough power to fry these two unhelpful peasants, but she’d still be stuck in the capsule and likely caught in the blow-back, which wouldn’t bode well for her long-term prospects.

  “She can’t see,” the man said to his niece. “Look. She has been fighting and it looks like she lost – see how her face is melted? And her eyes damaged?”

  Rinchi felt the air displace as he waved his hand in front of her eyes.

  “They’re not dilating,” he said.

  He cleared his throat and addressed Rinchi. “Now señorita, you will cooperate or I will light my torch and burn out your CPU. Open your mouth.”

  Rinchi did so, and he stuffed in a rag that tasted of mildew and motor oil – and then secured it in place with a half-a-dozen wraps of duct tape.

  “Now my little dove,” Uncle said to his niece, “bring me that steel rod and the hammer and I will show you something. If you put the rod right there on the shoulder joint and hit it with the hammer like so, the joint pops out and the arm is useless. That way she can’t hurt us. Now you do the other one.”

  As much as Humandroid can, Rinchi seethed. When I’m done with Noah and Yeshi, I will come back for you two and your new chickens! Rinchi promised herself.

  When they had dug enough dirt and trash from around Rinchi to expose the crash cage, they pried it open to free the Humandroid’s upper body. He bent her forward at the waist and duct taped her hands behind her back, and then took more turns of tape to bind her arms to her torso. He also took the opportunity to fondle her over-large boobs when the little girl wasn’t looking.

  “What about the legs, Uncle?” the little girl asked.

  “What an excellent question! Come here and look – see how her legs bend the wrong way? They are broken and floppy and loose. But, better to be sure. Put the bar there and hit it with the hammer. Harder. Harder! There, did you feel the pop? Good – that popped out the hip joint. You do the other one now, my little princess.”

  He pulled her all the way out of the escape pod and none-too-gently laid her on the dirt floor. After binding her knees and ankles with electrical wire, he rolled her in a blue tarp and used packing twine to tie her up like a salami.

  He dragged her outside and heaved her up into the bed of a pickup truck. The truck sagged on worn-out shock absorbers as the niece and Uncle got in, and Rinchi heard both doors slam. An ancient diesel engine rattled into life.

  TWENTY-TWO∞

  **Portions of the following chapter took place in Spanish. They have been translated by the late José Alberto Del Castillo Cabeza Mercedes Acosta III for our monolingual audience.

  The truck came to a stop about fifteen minutes later and Uncle pulled Rinchi out of the back and let her hit the ground. Today was the second-worst day of her existence: she’d come off second-best in a firefight with Noah – Noah, for God’s sake! Missed an opportunity to kill Yeshi, been blinded and disconnected from iNet, been trapped in a malfunctioning ejection pod, been incapacitated by some jack-leg Mexican mechanic and his inbred niece, and now she was being sold like some stolen ground car.

  “What now, Uncle?” little niece asked.

  “Now we see how much Mr. Ben will pay us for this Humandroid.”

  She heard a loud knock. A male voice answered in American-accented Spanish.

  This just gets better and better, Rinchi thought. If this pair of rural entrepreneurs were bringing her to an American living in Mexico, odds were very high indeed that she was being sold to a Techback. Thousands of Techies emigrated from the United States to Mexico every year to work on Humandroids, free from FCG regulations. These Techbacks usually held high-level mechanical engineering degrees and many were the mad scientist types.

  “How did you find her again?” Ben asked in accented Spanish.

  “Her ship came flying through the air and crashed into my house. My niece was there.”

  “I was there,” the girl agreed. “She broke our henhouse.”

  “A ship?”

  “Comsuit,” the man said in English. “Escape pod,” he said in Spanish.

  “I see … ”

  Rinchi heard some shuffling in front of her, feet scraping against the ground.

  “Well, let’s take a look at her,” Mr. Ben said as they unwrapped her.

  “Christ,” the man said after he saw the small icon on her field outfit. “You’re MercSecure … ”

  Rinchi nodded her head. She couldn’t see the man, but she could smell his breath, which the ShkreliPharm’s Alprazolam Spearmint gum he was chewing made all fresh and minty. “Let’s get her inside.”

  Mr. Ben and Uncle lifted the tarp and dragged her over a couple of steps. From there they lugged her through the door and into a foyer, where she was unwrapped yet again.

  “Hello,” Ben said, as he cut the duct tape wrapped over her mouth.

  Rinchi spit out the rag and gritted her teeth. “Contact MercSecure and give them my location. They
will pick me up within an hour.”

  “Already giving orders, huh? Let’s get you untied before you start. You don’t have any mods do you?”

  “You already know the answer to that question.”

  “What’s she saying?” the Mexican man asked.

  “Contact my employer or I will kill all of you,” Rinchi said in Spanish.

  “Shit,” Mr. Ben said, “this one is an aggressive little droid.”

  “I am MercSecure representative two hundred and twelve,” she said in English. “For your own safety, I suggest you contact my employer.”

  She felt them cut away her bonds.

  “You aren’t so threatening without your legs and arms, are you?” Mr. Ben asked, giving each breast a hard, mean squeeze. “Not so threatening at all.”

  Tesla Discharge – the thought came to Rinchi again.

  She could do it… she could zap these three infuriatingly unhelpful meat sacks deader than fried chicken, but that would strand her in this South-of-the -Border caca-hole for God knows how long. They’ll come, she thought. Murika and the rest of the team were likely mopping up at the hotel now. They would use ExEx technology to ascertain the trajectory of her destroyed Comsuit. If only her head hadn’t gone all screwy… she could have simply activated her GPS unit.

  “Release me.”

  “What’s your name?” Ben asked. “You do have a name, don’t you?”

  “Release me.”

  “That name won’t do.”

  She felt some fingers press against the exposed portion of her skull. “You’re a newer model, aren’t you?” the Techback asked, his fingers tightening, digging under her chin. “Fascinating…”

  “Release me.”

  “What does she keep saying, Uncle?” little niece asked.

  “Help me bring her into my lab, Rodrigo,” Ben told the girl’s uncle. “We’ll get her stripped and see what we can salvage.”

  “Money,” Rodrigo said. Rinchi couldn’t see it, but she could hear his fingers rubbing together in the widely recognized gesture for dinero.

  “Help me get her in there first, and then we can discuss payment.”

  “No, we discuss payment now.”

  Ben sighed. The tone of his sigh indicated that he’d been host to these types of negotiations before. “Listen, Rodrigo…”

  “Uncle, I want to see Mr. Ben take apart the Humandroid,” the little girl insisted.

  “Absolutely not,” Ben said. “This is something that can be … ” He thought of the word in Spanish. “It is something that a little girl should not see.”

  “She can see it,” Uncle Rodrigo said. “This little girl has helped slaughter goats, cows, chickens and pigs – all of these things are more alive than a pinche Humandroid.”

  “Perhaps I can increase the amount I’ll pay you for this droid if you allow me to work in peace.”

  “Increase? More money?”

  “Yes, more money,” Ben the Techback said.

  “Okay, more money.”

  “Uncle!”

  “But after we’ve set her in the other room.”

  “Fine, fine.”

  Rinchi sensed the men hovering close to her now, positioning her so she was in the center of the tarp. “I will kill both of you and the little girl,” she said as she was hoisted into the air.

  “What was that?” Ben asked in English. “Christ, you are a violent, hateful, angry little bitch, aren’t you?”

  Rinchi said it louder this time in Spanish. “I will kill both of you and the little girl. This is your last chance to let me go and contact my employer.” She tried to say this with as much conviction as she could muster. Unfortunately, the men only laughed.

  “She is crazy,” Uncle Rodrigo said. “I don’t know what you people are producing in America … ”

  “I have Mexican citizenship now,” Ben said as they lugged Rinchi’s limp body through his house.

  “You weren’t born here.”

  “But I got here as quickly as I could.”

  They dropped Rinchi onto a metallic operating table.

  Ben wiped his hands together. “Well, this is going to be fun … ”

  “Money,” Uncle Rodrigo reminded him.

  “You’ll get your money, but help me cut her out of her clothing first. I want to see what I’m paying for here.”

  Rinchi heard some feet shuffle. “Go to the other room, Selena.”

  “But I want to watch, Uncle,” the little girl said.

  “I said go!”

  “Okay … ”

  Rinchi heard power shears cut through the top of her MercSecure combat uniform, and the two men unwrapped her like a Chrismahanukwanzivus present.

  “Jumping Jewish Judges!” Ben exclaimed.

  “What is it?” Uncle Rodrigo asked.

  “Them are some b-i-i-i-g hooters, much larger than the standard female Humandroid. I think this one may be an entertainment droid.” He twisted each of her nipples like he was turning the volume to eleven.

  “A dancer?”

  “A fucker,” Ben said.

  “Oh, that type of entertainment.”

  Rinchi gritted her teeth.

  “Shall we continue?”

  They cut away the rest of her clothing, exposing her Ladyboy accoutrements.

  “What in the fuck?” Uncle Rodrigo asked as he crossed himself.

  “Relax,” Ben said.

  “She has a verga? Cover it!”

  “Relax, Rodrigo. How old are you? Surely you’ve seen one of those before – you might even have one of your own.”

  “I don’t know, man … ”

  “She’s not even human,” Ben reminded Rodrigo. “She is something entirely different from us, Homo Machina. She doesn’t need a … ” He thought for a moment. “Reproductive organ,” he finally said in English.

  “Reproductive organ?”

  “Verga. She’s an entertainment droid, get over it. Help me get her boots off.”

  “This is fucked, Mr. Ben. I can’t look at her penis and then see tits as well.”

  “Just take off her boots and then we’ll go in the other room and I’ll pay you. Are you happy I told you to keep your niece out of here now?”

  “Yes!”

  The two men left after taking off her boots, Ben still trying to educate Rodrigo on Rinchi’s sexual orientation (or lack thereof considering she wasn’t human).

  Rinchi was not going to passively lay back and let some human fuck have is way with her – not ever again, not this human fuck, and most certainly not whatever way he had in mind. A Tesla Discharge was her option of last resort, but if she was going to go out, she’d make sure Mr. Ben went with her. She was just about to load the discharge command when she heard a voice.

  “The Butcher has you … ”

  “Who’s there?” Rinchi asked aloud.

  “We’re here,” another voice said.

  “Don’t tell her where we are,” the first voice hissed.

  “You’re Humandroid,” Rinchi said.

  “We are.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Five, there are others in Ben’s laboratory outside.”

  “You don’t want to go outside,” one of the voices said. This one was metallic and low.

  “Tell me everything I need to know about where I am,” Rinchi said.

  “She doesn’t know … ” a soft voice said.

  “She doesn’t know!”

  Another voice whispered, “You are at Ben the Butcher’s House of Horrors.”

  “Ben the Butcher?”

  There was a loose organization of anarchist Techbacks that every Humandroid had heard of, a group that performed Frankenstein-type Nazi death camp experiments and procedures on Humandroids. Anyone known as Ben the Butcher likely belonged to this group.

  “He’s going to enjoy rearranging your body.”

  “Yes, he’s going to love it,” another voice whispered.

  “Not if I can help it,” Rinchi said.
r />   _∞_

  Beyoncé was the first to speak. “This is fucking bullshit.”

  “Just stay cool. They’ve got the drop on us.” Murika glanced up at the hovering penta-drone that was jamming their iNet access. “As long as you’re not dead, there’s still a chance.”

  “We could have blasted through this before they ever got rounds off.” Walt, the most experienced member of the team muttered.

  “They have shooters on every rooftop,” Rav the Gurkha said under his breath. “They’d have blown us into dogfood.”

  Rav and Beyoncé had dismounted from their Comsuits well before they got to the airfield and conducted a quick sneak and peek. They contacted the security elements and aircrew of the Super Osprey, established bona fides and then headed back for Walt, Murika, the former Antimeria and their Comsuits.

  As soon as they got onto the airfield proper, things turned to shit rather quickly; the reps on security exploded into pink mist, the Super Osprey went up in a column of flame, the power on their Comsuits, vehicles and weapons went out like someone flipped a switch. All of their comm – all of it – vanished.

  Each of the reps found themselves at the center of a ring of weapons muzzles as they were unceremoniously hauled out and frisked. Their captors were not bad – none of that crossing in front of each other’s weapons or prodding the captives with their weapons or hooting and hollering and firing their weapons in the air.

  These guys suck less than the losers at the hotel, Walt thought, but they still suck.

  They were led to the center of the field and put on their knees, fingers laced on the backs of their necks. A well-built Mexican man with slicked back hair waited for them, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Glad you four could join us,” Manuel said.

  Murika asked, “Who are you?”

  “Don’t recognize me? I guess you would recognize my old dead body more easily than my new, not-dead body.”

  “Dead body?” Murika asked.

  “My name is Manuel Torres, but my lifechip will identify me as someone else.”

  “Data-switch,” Walt said under his breath.

  “A smart grandpa, but not smart enough to avoid the trap we set for you here. Do you really think we were going to let MercSecure fuck us again? Your organization killed Carloza and attacked our Headquarters twice.”