“But…” He stopped himself. There was no point in the argument. She was going to do what she wanted to do anyway. He sighed and said, “What did you have in mind?”
“We will inform her that she is to keep everything very tightly under control and that she will be subject to review on a constant basis. There will be nothing more than a simple coming together of her “people” and everything they do will be peace and love driven.” Zarliana gave a small smile. “From what I understand, she is a SensualBot, so she will rather enjoy her new position and will not likely do anything to undermine it.”
“Unbelievable,” Dresker said while shaking his head. “You’re actually going to push religion on the bots.”
“Governing bodies do it all the time, Adam, and you know it. It’s the best way to keep people in line.”
“Yeah, but I thought you didn’t want that. I thought you craved the chaos.”
“No,” Zarliana said, shaking her head. “I don’t crave the chaos. I crave the ebb and flow of society, and that includes moments of mayhem and stretches of peace. The mayhem, for today, has ended. Now it’s time for a stretch of peace.”
“And what about Coremon?”
“We have to release him too,” she said and then raised a hand to signal Dresker to let her finish her thought. “If we don’t, he’ll just be a symbol to all Mechanicans of the repression that we put them under.”
“But he’s too powerful!”
“I’m sure there is a way you can remedy that if you really put your mind to it. No?”
§ § §
Telian was now sitting in the main office that was once the domain of The Leader. In effect, she now held that title.
“And you will in no way do anything that jeopardizes the security of the CCOP,” Dresker said to her via VizScreen. “Is that clear?”
“Yes, Prime Dresker, and do let me say that I am truly sorry for all of the issues that—”
“What’s done is done,” Dresker said in a tight voice. “You worry more about doing the right thing now with your, um, what did you call it?”
“The Church of Sensual Automation,” she said.
“Right,” he said. “Anyway, do the right thing, Telian, and all will be fine. And when you’re thinking about what the right thing to do is, stop and ask yourself what will put you in jail and what will keep you out. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Good luck.”
I'LL BE DAMNED
DRESKER SAT AT his favorite chair in his favorite place as Clenk brought him his favorite drink.
Only one tonight, he promised himself. Just one.
“Looks like everything is back on track, Clenk,” Dresker said as the alcohol burned his throat. It warmed him. Maybe he’d have two drinks tonight instead. Yes, two would do it. But no more, he affirmed. He’d already taken his pills to avoid a hangover this time, even though a couple of drinks wouldn’t give him one. “And it’s nice to see business is picking up.”
“Beep. Boop bip boop?”
“Haven’t you heard? My group is no longer the Internal Investigation Bureau, it’s now the Intergalactic Investigation Bureau.”
“Beep boop?”
“Yep, and we’ve got our first off-station mission, so I won’t be around for a while. We’re going to join the search for the Reknap.” Dresker looked into his glass worryingly. “I still haven’t talked to Truhbel about it, but I have a few days to deal with that.”
“Bip.”
“I just need to get away from this place for a while, ya know?”
“Boop bip bip bing bop.”
“True, but you like repetitive tasks. I know I just had some decent excitement over the last couple of days, but only after months of nothing. Besides, it’d be nice to get back on a ship again. It’s been a while.”
From around the corner came an android that was pushing a mop.
“Oh, yeah,” Dresker said, motioning at the android, “how’s Coremon doing?”
“Beep boop bip.”
“Good,” Dresker said, raising his glass at Coremon who just slumped a little and kept on mopping. “I thought he may prove useful, especially with all this new clientele. I told you I’d look out for someone to help you, didn’t I?”
“Beep. Boop bip beep boop.”
“No, no, no.” Dresker chuckled. “I’ll pay for the drinks, but thank you for the offer. I just hate seeing a friend work so hard.”
“Boop boop ting.”
“I know you’re a bot, but you still need to have a little time to yourself now and then, you know?”
“Bip.”
Dresker laughed and then took another sip.
“You’re hopeless, Clenk.”
“Beep boop.”
“Yeah,” Dresker lifted his glass in salute, “I am too. Hard to argue that.”
As he felt the booze worming its way into his thoughts he couldn’t help but feel a little bad for Coremon.
He was a prototype, the first ever successful android. He had run an entire religion, was the executive assistant in one of the largest manufacturing plants, and he had the intellectual capacity that rivaled anything in the known universe.
And now he was relegated to working as the BusboyBot in a corner pub that sat off the beaten path in an obscure part of town.
Worse yet, by Dresker’s order, Coremon wore a permanent anklet that included a tracking device so that they could keep tabs on him. Gal had volunteered to oversee the project since she was highly pissed off at Coremon, as were most Mechanicans. She was disallowed the option of ending his existence, so, instead she insisted on the right to track everything Coremon did. Thus, he was essentially jailed without bars.
Dresker suspected that the removal of Coremon’s voice synthesizer was the most crushing blow, though, since Coremon knew that it gave the CCOP, and the Clark Galaxy on the whole, the distinction of having the first ever BeepDroid.
But Dresker didn’t feel too sorry for the BeepDroid. Coremon was responsible for a lot of mayhem over these last few days, doing things that nearly spelled the death of everyone on the station, and did cause the deaths of two Mechanicans. It was enough to put Dresker back on the drink. So try as he might, Dresker couldn’t quite bury the angst.
According to Truhbel, Lemoolie had expressed interest in dating the BeepDroid. Once she had found out that Coremon had lost the ability to talk, she was doubly-interested.
Dresker decided to avoid learning the details of their courtship.
“How you getting along, Coremon?” Dresker asked.
Coremon sulked over to the bar after setting the mop against the wall. He was looking expectantly at Dresker. Clenk explained that Coremon had refused to speak because he no longer had his voice synth.
“Things will get better,” Dresker offered. “It will just take time.”
Coremon rolled his eyes and motioned around the room.
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Dresker said with a smile.
And that’s the most amazing thing about yesterday’s climax to The Starliner situation, the VizChannel was broadcasting Selby Gilbeht’s new show, “Ending Your Day with Selby Gilbeht.”
“Turn it up,” Dresker said as everyone in the pub turned an ear toward Gilbeht.
Right around midday the satellites tracked a massive vessel hovering near the CCOP. It stopped and was sending some type of signal down for about fifteen miniclicks. Then it just left.
Dresker smiled and took another sip.
The most compelling thing was that on the side of it was painted, “Captain Digitwhatsits Botbuilt’s Starliner.”
“Beep boop!”
“Isn’t that your old partner, Clenk?”
“Bap boop bip.”
Dresker looked at his empty glass and decided this time to keep his promise to himself and not drink any more. He had to get his snoot clean before taking on the mission to see what happened to the Reknep, after all.
He gazed over at Coremon and then pulled out
the pamphlet that Clenk had given him.
“Oh, by the way, Coremon,” he said, plucking the paper with his middle finger, “I brought you a little souvenir.”
Coremon snatched the pamphlet away and stared at it.
“Beep…boop...bop,” Clenk said, shaking his head at Dresker.
“He had it coming,” Dresker said with a shrug, still smiling. “As one of my agents always says, ‘sometimes people get too big for their own britches.’ Coremon helped me figure out what that meant.”
The BeepDroid’s face registered a very Human expression of utter despair.
He turned toward the VizChannel as The Starliner disappeared amongst the stars.
Dresker felt a minor pang of guilt as Coremon let the pamphlet fall to the floor.
Then, uttering the first word ever to be spoken by a BeepDroid, Coremon said, “Bip.”
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ABOUT THE AUTHORS
John P. Logsdon
John was raised in the MD/VA/DC area. Growing up, John had a steady interest in writing stories, playing music, and tinkering with computers. He spent over 20 years working in the video games industry where he acted as designer and producer on many online games. He’s written science fiction, fantasy, humor, and even books on game development. While he enjoys writing lighthearted adventures and wacky comedies most, he can’t seem to turn down writing darker fiction. John lives with his wife, son, and Chihuahua.
On the web: www.JohnPLogsdon.com
Christopher P. Young
Chris grew up in the Maryland suburbs. He spent the majority of his childhood reading and writing science fiction and learning the craft of storytelling. He worked as a designer and producer in the video games industry for a number of years as well as working in technology and admin services. He enjoys writing both serious and comedic science fiction and fantasy. Chris lives with his wife and an ever-growing population of critters.
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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by John P. Logsdon & Christopher P. Young
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
Published by: Crimson Myth Press (www.CrimsonMyth.com)
Edited by: Lorelei J. Logsdon (www.LoreleiLogsdon.com)
Cover art: Jake T. Logsdon (www.JakeLogsdon.com)
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