by Foxx Ballard
The larger robot was much bulkier, all copper and shining chrome, like a silver bullet still in the casing. Its parts were steeply angled for deflection. It had a base closer to four feet wide and maybe six or seven long, with a cowcatcher on the front, making the bottom half of it look like the front of an angry train. Thick tank treads, a foot wide on either side, likely kept it very stable. Unlike the small robot with a willowy frame, the big one was armor-plated and thick. The abdomen and torso were shaped in a V, wide at the shoulders, narrower where the abdomen met the base. Thick arms ended in rotating pincers and on backs of the forearms, protected by armored plates, were the barrels of Gatling lasers with their distinctive lenses on the front of each barrel. The low-profile head was little more than a casing for the eye-plates. This robot also had a radioactive symbol on the front, but there was no Don’t Hug warning. Probably fewer people wanted to hug this one, anyway.
Rusty contemplated running, but the outright friendliness of the happy face on the skinny bot made him pause. Maybe that’s what it was meant to do. Regardless, he didn’t run… yet.
“Hail fellow life form!” The smaller robot said in a synthesized, but clearly male voice, with a beaming smile emoji on its faceplate. At the greeting, the larger robot spun on its thick torso and aimed the forearm guns at Rusty, causing him to freeze in place. The Gatling lasers started to wind up.
The two robots approached him and he weighed in his mind whether he thought he could dodge if the larger one started shooting. He decided to stay in place and resisted moving. Surely they wouldn’t see him as a threat, would they? Maybe the big one was the smaller one’s bodyguard? At least the big one stopped and appeared to be hanging back a little.
The smaller robot introduced itself, extending a hand forward, so Rusty hesitantly reached out and shook the hand.
“Hi, I’m Jack… pause for effect… Hammer!” it said, and then a neutral emoji appeared on its face monitor. “Did I just say ‘pause for effect’ out loud? No matter!” and the happy face appeared again.
Rusty tried to pull his hand back, but it was caught in the stronger-than-it-looked grip of the robot. “Uh, Rusty.” Panic started to enter his mind. What if it didn’t let him go?
“Hi Uhrusty, I am pleased to meet you! And this…” Jack said, letting go of Rusty’s hand, much to Rusty’s relief. “Is Synth-E-Uh.”
“His name’s just Rusty, Jack.” The well-armed robot didn’t seem so threatening now that it was correcting its partner. It—she—spoke in a clear feminine voice, not robotic at all. And it helped that the Gatling lasers stopped spinning and were no longer aimed at him.
“Okay Justrustyjack, sorry I didn’t hear you the first time,” said Jack. “Little sand in the ol’ microphone, hey?”
“Oh, for…” The bot called Synth-E-Uh moved forward and touched Jack with one large pincer claw and there was a fat spark between them.
“So what can I sell—sell—sell you, Rusty?” asked Jack. “Some prime real estate on the moon? Maybe some CompsoStar elevator shoes? The ladies like a tall man…” And the robot elbowed Synth-E-Uh gently in the arm.
Synth-E-Uh scoffed. “Well, at least you remembered I identify as female.”
“Who could ever forget that?” Jack said, looking the decidedly unfeminine-looking Synth-E-Uh up and down.
While they were preoccupied with each other, Rusty looked up at the sky where the dropship had come from, and then back at the robots, then back up at the sky, and then robots again as if assuring himself they were real.
“You have ship?” he asked, hopefully.
“Oooh, you just missed us having one we could sell you, sorry,” responded Jack cheerfully. “We do have this fine only-used-once one-use-only dropship if you’re interested.”
Rusty climbed up to the open door on the dropship to peer in.
“Weapons?”
“In the dropship? No, it’s empty.”
Rusty hopped back down, disappointed.
“But I sell weapons,” added Jack.
Rusty perked up.
“See what have?”
“Well, we have this fine combat droid here…” Jack turned to indicate Synth-E-Uh.
“I’m not for sale,” she answered quickly.
“Only two galactic credits,” Jack continued, ignoring her.
“You can’t sell me, Jack,” she said insistently.
“Done!” replied Rusty, hoping they hadn’t removed the funds from his account chip when he was incarcerated. He waved his hand over Jack’s face and there was the cha-ching sound of a cash register.
“Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of the recently assembled CompsoStar Guardian 1000 Series.” Jack’s upper torso bent at the waist in a bow.
Rusty couldn’t believe the price was so low. Usually combat droids were thousands of credits, not two. He’d never expected to be able to afford one. Let alone see one on this world.
“Why price low?” Rusty asked.
“You, my friend, are benefiting from a Close-Out sale of the depreciated price of CompsoStar merchandise that is over five hundred years old.”
“Me buy all!” Rusty said, jumping up and down, waving the hand that had his account chip in it.
“JACK!” Synth-E-Uh yelled at the happy ad-bot with the elated smile emoji on his face, but it was too late. There was a long series of cha-chings.
“Did you want your money back now, Master?” asked Jack politely.
“Me no understand, take back sale?” Rusty was ready to be disappointed. He knew it would be too good to be true.
“No, no, you just purchased me as well, and I am the sole legal dispensary of the CompsoStar equipment. Did you want the credits, Sir? I just recently obtained four hundred and twenty-two.”
“Yes?” Rusty replied, holding up his hand.
There was a clang as Synth-E-Uh pinched her hand claws together in anger. “I don’t believe this, Jack. You can’t sell us.”
Another series of cha-chings returned all of Rusty’s credits back to his account chip.
Jack turned to Synth-E-Uh and pointed at the CompsoStar logo on the front of her grill.
“Do all of your parts say CompsoStar?”
“Well, yes…”
“And do all the item barcodes show they are parts from CompsoStar?”
“Yes, but…”
“And do all sale agreements with CompsoStar say that the version of software on said piece of equipment is included with the sale for the use of that piece of equipment?”
“Why is your memory so great now?!”
“So me own you?” Rusty said to both of them.
“Yes, Master,” replied Jack.
“Not really,” sighed Synth-E-Uh. “You can’t own an AI since the AI Sentience Act, but you did legally purchase the equipment I inhabit so, until I find another home, I guess I’ll courier it around for you… but don’t expect me to do everything you ask… and cut it out, he can’t own you Jack, just your… body.”
Jack had a confused emoji on his face monitor for only a second, and then it was back to smiling.
“Master Rusty it is.”
“What else did me buy?” Rusty asked, rubbing his hands together and looking at the crates in the sand. He was as excited as his first Gobknob’s Mushroom Day Harvest when he was allowed to pick the mushrooms.
“Well, I’m glad you asked! This beautiful droppod, slightly used, for starters.” Jack started laying crates down in the sand, and Rusty couldn’t help noticing the stamped dates on the crates. 2419. These crates were over a thousand years old. Still, thousand year old tech was still tech, something this planet didn’t have.
Synth-E-Uh made whirring noises as her tank treads spun in the sand until she was next to Rusty. “Now keep in mind,” she said as she indicated the numerous radiation symbols on the items. “These were made before the Radiation Emissions Act Dedicated to Mandating the Obliteration of Radioactive Equipment of 2430. The act was passed after a few regiments were taken
out by nuclear explosions from their own weapons, and a few items may be a little more dangerous to use over extended periods of time. Hope you’ve had your kids.”
Rusty was sad for a moment, and then it occurred to him it was possible his son had kids. Maybe he still had family alive somewhere. Maybe his wife had remarried and found some happiness. He could hope that was how it had happened.
“What these do?” he asked, looking at the crates with the warning symbols, but not recognizing the items in them. Some crates just had everyday items, like coffee mugs and t-shirts, solar mini pets and running shoes. Rusty poked over the running shoes, but he hadn’t been wearing shoes for months now. The bottoms of his feet were like hard leather, anyway. Meanwhile, Jack told him what was in the marked crates.
“This here,” Jack said as he retrieved and extended the long barrel of a weapon and folded out its stock. “Is the CompsoStar Laser Penetrator…”
The gun was three times as long as Rusty and had a thick, round body with sleek lines. Jack handed it to Rusty, and as soon as he let it go, Rusty tipped over and dropped the gun on the sand with a dull thud. The small robot was stronger than he appeared, Rusty noted.
“Hmm, maybe something a little smaller… the Penetrator was designed for Marines with a powered exoskeleton…” Jack mumbled while he folded the long, heavy gun back up and examined the different crates.
“Ah! Here we go…” Jack gently picked up a smaller, though still solid-looking, weapon about two feet long, including the stock. “The Kid’s Backyard Laser Buckshooter. Each pull of the trigger sets off a fission reaction in the weapon’s core that is converted through CompsoStar’s patented, no-meltdown technology into usable electricity and light. Lasers. Made for kids of all ages.”
“And was pulled from shelves less than a week after issue the first time a seven-year-old shot down a plane,” Synth-E-Uh added. “But Jack and I had already left the planet by that time. I watched the news feeds to pass the time.”
Jack’s face emoji changed to embarrassed. “Just watch where you point it, son. Fires about ten shots before it won’t let you pull the trigger anymore to allow for core cooling. That’s safety!” And then he whispered to Rusty. “But don’t point it at planes.”
Rusty nodded as he took the weapon. It was heavy but bearable. He pointed it at the ground and pulled the trigger. There was a flash and a hiss and nine neat pencil-thin marks in the sand. Not too impressive. Until Synth-E-Uh clanked over and dug a pincer deep into the sand and scooped out nine foot-long sandy glass pipes that broke apart easily as she deposited them in front of Rusty. At his lack of recognition of what this meant, Synth-E-Uh pointed it out.
“It just shot through a foot of sand, it’s deadly, so be careful where you point it, and always be aware of what is behind your target.”
Good advice. Rusty hadn’t had a lot of gun exposure in his lifetime, certainly not of this caliber, but he knew not to point it at people, even when the safety was on.
“Where safety button?” he asked.
Synth-E-Uh carefully pointed a huge pincer tip at a small button beside the trigger of the weapon.
“Oh, thanks. Surprise not on already.”
“I’m not…” Synth-E-Uh glared at Jack with what little her eye-plate armor could express.
Jack was oblivious to the glare and the comment.
“More weapons?” Rusty asked, hopeful, but Jack shook his head.
“Those two guns were approved for the Parent and Child Hunter Set. They are the only weapons I’m afraid, Master Rusty. We were sent to show examples of what Earth has to offer, not to supply a world. These are just samples.”
“Now this little beauty…” Jack’s emoji changed to elated when he pulled a suit of body armor out of a crate, only to change to embarrassed again when he held it up to Rusty. The Goblin only came up to its waist. “Is lead-lined and was meant to protect you… never mind.” Jack put it back and poked through the other crates.
“Popcorn maker but no popcorn… coffee maker but no coffee…” Jack mumbled as he browsed. All the items had a radioactive symbol on them. “A clock, hmm, close, but would only work on Earth time. Ah, here we go! A CompsoStar AI Companion Necklace, I’m sure this is perfectly safe to wear.” Synth-E-Uh shook her head behind Jack’s back to indicate it wasn’t. Jack attempted to clasp it around Rusty’s throat before the Goblin could protest, but Rusty was fast and didn’t trust what the robot was doing, so he sidestepped and the medallion on the necklace magnetically clamped onto the gun in his hands instead.
It gave off a hiss as it started melting to the side of the gun and the clasp and chain fell off. Metallic clamps shot into the surface of the weapon and started to spread. Rusty dropped the Buckshooter in surprise.
“You want put that on ME?!” Rusty put his hand over his chest where the medallion would have hung. “No more, you dangerous!”
Jack put on a sad face and then a hopeful one and reached for another crate.
“No, no more!” Rusty commanded, picking up the Buckshooter, now that the metallic webbing had stopped spreading across the gun’s outer plating.
Hopefully, it would still work. He aimed it at the ground and pulled the trigger. The familiar flash and hiss were still there, and the holes in the ground. All good.
“Number of planets struck, one,” said the Buckshooter in an electronically synthesized monotone voice, much like a Cylon from Rusty’s favorite ancient comedy, Battlestar Galactica. “Minimal damage. Estimated time required to kill planet… forty-two thousand years.”
Rusty was taken aback by the gun talking to him, but quickly recovered. This wasn’t the strangest thing he had ever seen. That show with the human and the donkey was… not worth remembering…
“What you?” Rusty asked, poking where the medallion had attached itself to the gun.
“CompsoStar AI Companion. You have bonded me with a weapon. An excellent choice. My database primarily consists of hypothesized alien biology and statistics.”
“You mind call you Buck?” asked Rusty. “Compso Aieee Panion hard to say.”
“Not at all, I am now Buck.”
Rusty was going to say something else, but was distracted because he smelled something. Something besides the smells of the robots and burned craft and sand. A whiff of acrid insect, sharp and pungent. And something… synthetic, but not something he recognized. They weren’t too far away, and they were closing.
“Something coming!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rusty: Drop-pod crash site, Incarcerata IV
What came over the rise shocked Rusty. It was a strange conveyance, pulled by an enormous flat beetle, similar to a trilobite, that had a long stick extended over it with a ball on the end. The beetle seemed to be chasing the ball, shooting streams of sand out from behind it. Towed by the beetle by numerous chains that ran under its body was a sled of two parts, also separated by towing chains. The first part of the sled was a cabin with wide runners beneath it. The walls of the cabin were made of tight white fabric on a frame. The back of the cabin was open. The rear sled was a white-washed stone building with a sloped shingle roof built on a wide base that prevented it from tipping over easily. A couple of steps led up to a door that was currently closed. Why would someone be towing around a small building? It would be much more efficient to just make a cage of sorts and pile everything into it.
Synth-E-Uh turned to face the contraption and kept her arms out, Gatling lasers spinning, ready to fire.
“Hold!” called out a feminine voice from inside the sled. As soon as the long stick was pulled up and into the cabin, the beetle came to a stop.
A human woman in tight black leather and wearing a flowing, black silk, hooded cloak stepped out of the sled and started walking toward them. When she pulled the hood of her cape down, it revealed she had green eyes and short black hair with long bangs that fell in front of one side of her face. Rusty noted she had daggers on her belt, but she hadn’t drawn them. Had she had a large
r head, she would have been very attractive. As it was, she was only moderately so. Why was he thinking of this? He had just lost Zondra, and this woman was… synthetic. There was a pang of loss and guilt, and then Rusty brought his attention back to the fore.
“She not human,” Rusty warned quietly.
Jack had just been about to approach the stranger with a smiley face, and now he just looked confused.
Synth-E-Uh looked back at Rusty and then again at the stranger. He knew why Synth-E-Uh doubted his observation. The newcomer looked completely human, but nothing about her smelled human. Definitely synthetic.
“How could you possibly know that?” She must have overheard him. The woman sounded genuinely curious and stopped her advance when Rusty leveled his weapon at her. She put up her hands, but did not appear otherwise frightened, as she still had a friendly smile on her face.
“I’m Lais,” she said to Rusty.
“We were looking for you,” said Synth-E-Uh.
Now Rusty was confused.
“Your sister says she is okay,” relayed Synth-E-Uh. “She asked us to pass on the message.”
“That’s great news,” said Lais. “Thank you for the message. How did she…?”
“Get the message to us? We were trying to make contact from our ship with anyone on the planet, and she was the only one that answered.” Synth-E-Uh was forthcoming with the information, but her Gatling lasers still spun ominously and were pointed at Lais.
“Do you still have access to your ship?” Lais asked, her voice hopeful.
“No, it was destroyed shortly before we landed.”