by C. Gockel
“Venomous?” screamed the general, dropping the handheld and dancing backward.
The sex ‘bot with the limp hadn’t gotten as far down the plank and was the first back to the top. “I will kill the rat,” it said, knocking into a tall rolling tool cabinet and sending the contents spilling. The other new ‘bots tromped through the mess. Bits of electronics shattered, and one of the ‘bots tripped.
“Stop them!” shouted the general.
One of the new men shouted, “Brothel ‘bots freeze!” And the ten new ‘bots all froze in place, two of them crashing to the ground as their “freeze” position left them unbalanced.
The werfle finally stopped its charge right beneath 6T9. It twined itself around his ankles and squeaked at the humans. It was pleasantly warm, but it was getting fur on his pants, which was against his grooming protocols. 6T9 bent down and cleaned his legs.
“Kill it!” the general ordered him.
Straightening and wiping his hands, 6T9’s brows drew together. “I am afraid I cannot kill a werfle, sir. Werfles eat rats. Eliza hated rats.”
Dashing up the plank, the furry woman cried, “I’ll get him!” She ran toward 6T9, but at her approach, the werfle hopped into a large rectangular bin of ‘bot parts.
“I am so sorry,” said the girl, rummaging through the ‘bot arms, legs, heads, and occasional bones. “He has never done this before.”
The ship’s engines roared.
“Will you help me?” the furry asked 6T9. She had a metal femur in her hand.
“Certainly,” said 6T9, standing and going to lean over the box, the handheld computer still dangling from the cable inserted in his head. The human men kept their distance and shifted on their feet. Something behind him whined, and the girl gulped audibly. The air pressure changed, and the ship they were on rose and moved forward. The furry woman gulped again. Maybe she got space sick? Hearing a squeak, 6T9 bent further into the box, and something hit him on the back of his head, knocking him half into the pile of detached limbs.
“Hey!” shouted one of the men.
“Oops!” said the girl.
6T9’s vision went briefly white, and then he found himself staring into the eyes of Carl Sagan. One of 6T9’s hands was touching his torso, searching, he now understood, for Eliza’s ashes that were in the front inside pocket of the jacket Volka was wearing. He couldn’t see the crew around him, but in a nanosecond, he comprehended all he had seen and heard. The whining noise had been the sound of the gangplank hatch closing. They were trapped inside the ship and pulling out of the dock. 6T9 had worked for “independent traders.” Most androids called them “pirates,” but it was more correct to call them fencers, movers, or receivers. They knowingly bought stolen goods and resold them, but they didn’t kidnap humans. This was a real pirate ship, and the general had logged in and almost wiped 6T9’s memory. They’d almost taken away his memories of Eliza. 6T9’s hands clenched the edges of the shipping container. On the planet Libertas, he’d been shot with a phaser blast. Its power had overwhelmed him, heated his body to the point of almost melting his hardware. He felt like that now. How had “white-hot rage” not been an idiom coined by an android?
“Umm…” Volka whispered. “Are you…? We’re moving…”
He heard the four pirates drawing closer.
“Just reach in and grab the werfle,” the general ordered him.
6T9’s Q-comm sparked hotter than his anger. He had to be smart about this. He wanted to rip the ethernet blocker off, but as soon as he did that, they’d know he was more than a dumb ‘bot. With his Q-comm, he was smart enough to stall. “I am not sure if it is a werfle or a rat,” 6T9 said. “I must count its legs.”
Volka edged closer to him.
“Dumb ‘bot, it’s the same werfle you saw earlier!” one of the men said, drawing closer, but not too close, the threat of Carl Sagan’s venom keeping him at bay.
“One, two, three…”
The ethernet blocked, his mind slipped to the only source of intel he could reach—the handheld still hardlinked into his port. 6T9 quickly changed the ethernet channel associated with Android_General1’s account to his own, and then his mind scrolled through all the other androids makes and serial numbers. There were 315 in the hold and more in other areas of the ship. All of them were under the command of Android_General1. Not all of them were sex ‘bots, and one had a serial number that ended in QC. 6T9 didn’t know the android personally, but he knew the make—it was a child android. The QC meant that it had come off the assembly line with a Q-Comm chip. For a second time, he thought his hardware might melt with his rage.
“What’s wrong with him?”
Using the handheld device as a local hub, 6T9 accessed the ship’s computer and almost cursed. The “general” would only be able to control the ship’s computer if the captain died.
Resuming the count, 6T9 slowly slipped the handheld computer into his shirt so it couldn’t be flung around by his movements.
“What are you doing, ‘droid? Get the werfle!”
“Yes, sir,” 6T9 replied, but he ripped the internet blocker off his naked metal skull instead. His ethernet began to ping madly with Celeste’s number and the local time gate’s. Carl Sagan leaped into 6T9’s arms, and the werfle’s thoughts leaped into his mind. “Throw me on the nearest one!”
6T9 threw the werfle at Scrapper. Stunners came out all around. “Take cover, Volka!” 6T9 shouted. She dashed into the forest of sex ‘bots beyond the repair station, and two men followed her. Scrapper cursed. Carl shouted in 6T9’s mind, “There are four more men on the bridge—” and then gave a squeak of fear as Scrapper tore the werfle from his neck and tossed him aside. Carl landed with a thunk, and Scrapper took a step toward 6T9, raising a weapon. It was a phaser, not a stunner, and a direct hit could destroy him and leave him nothing more than a memory in Time Gate 1’s servers. His Q-comm sparked, and 6T9 stepped toward Scrapper with inhuman speed. Grabbing the arm with the phaser, 6T9 pushed it to the side, but Scrapper had augmented strength, and for precious seconds they grappled. 6T9 answered the hail of the local time gate. “6T9,” the gate said. “Is it true that you’re aboard the Copper—?”
“Yes,” 6T9 replied over the ether. Q-comm sparking, he sent the gate the boy android’s make and serial number as well. In the moment of distraction, the man he was fighting twisted 6T9’s arm behind his back. 6T9 cried out in shock and maybe “pain.” The urge to extricate his arm from the lock was overwhelming—wasn’t that what pain was to humans? He almost turned up his masochism settings but couldn’t risk the desire to receive more “pain.”
“They’re preparing to jump to lightspeed,” the gate responded. “I’m losing—”
The ship jerked forward; the ethernet cut out. 6T9, his attacker, and the general all almost lost their footing. And then, strangely, the hand wrenching 6T9’s arm around his back went slack, and the phaser fell to the floor. Yanking himself from the man’s grasp, 6T9 picked up the phaser and spun to his attacker. The man had fallen to his knees, and there was a dazed look in his eye…which was when 6T9 noticed the bite marks in his neck. He hadn’t realized Carl’s venom had come back in; if he had, he couldn’t have thrown the werfle at the man.
The general raised a weapon, and 6T9 raised his stolen phaser at him. He found himself staring down the barrel of what was, thankfully, only a stunner.
From the forest of deactivated androidroids, 6T9 heard one of the men say, “Here, girlie-girlie.”
The general squinted at the phaser and then smirked. “She is real purty with those ears of hers.”
6T9 jerked the phaser as though he was going to shoot it. Of course, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Killing humans, no matter how criminal, was against his programming. He couldn’t even shoot to frighten the man. Shooting wide might depressurize the cargo hold and kill every human in it.
The general chuckled. “You can’t shoot me, can you?”
6T9’s jaw got hard.
“I see you!
” said one of the men hunting for Volka in the dark forest of deactivated ‘bots. There was the sound of a door whooshing open, two new sets of footsteps, and a new man’s voice said, “I heard we got a stowaway.” 6T9 swallowed. Now there were seven humans in the hold and two more elsewhere on the ship.
The general hissed, “You’ve lost. You’re as helpless as a worm.” He turned his head and spit.
Lowering the phaser, 6T9 bowed his head. His Q-comm hummed, but no immediate inspiration came to him.
“Now give me the phaser, 6T9 unit,” the general said, holding out his hand.
The serial numbers of all the stolen sex ‘bots recorded on the handheld began playing in 6T9’s vision. They were all under control of the Android_General1. Since he’d given Android_General1 his ethernet channel in the handheld, as far as the ‘bots were concerned, Android_General1 was 6T9, but they wouldn’t be able to hurt a human any more than 6T9 could.
From the floor of deactivated androids came a shout. “You bitch! You’ll pay for that.”
The general lunged for the phaser. Stepping back, 6T9 held it aloft.
“Being a pain in my ass will only make it worse for her,” said the general.
6T9’s Q-comm sparked. His mind leaped into the ether and he turned on the ‘bots. Aloud, just to be distracting he said, “I excel at being a pain in the ass.” A faint buzz rose in the hold as the sex ‘bots started to power up.
The general snarled at 6T9, “They can’t hurt us, either.”
6T9 tilted his head. “No, they cannot.”
In the dark recesses of the hold, 6T9 heard the scamper of Volka’s feet.
“All my men have battle augments,” the general said. “She won’t last long.”
“We got her cornered,” shouted one of the men, as though to confirm the general’s statement. 6T9 wanted to run to Volka, but his Q-comm was humming and he knew that wasn’t the way to save her. He had to trust she could take care of herself…just for a little longer. He pictured her in his mind and sent the mental picture of her to BOY4YR-QC, the child ‘bot with the Q-comm. Backing up, he stood protectively over the unconscious Carl Sagan and entered parameters for applications that only a human or android familiar with sex ‘bots’ factory installs would know.
“What are you doing?” the general asked, lowering into a crouch, looking like he was about to spring at 6T9.
Trying to give his ‘bots the precious seconds they needed to finish their boot-up, 6T9 smirked and answered, “Hey, Sailor.”
The general, probably familiar with the factory installed “Hey, Sailor” app, blinked.
6T9’s smirk stretched to a wide grin. “Ya wanna have a good time?”
In the darkened section of the hold, he heard the sound of metal hitting metal, the soft thud of Volka’s footfalls, and he hoped his army would come online in time.
Standing as still as the sex ‘bots crowded around her like disheveled mannequins, Volka breathed in through her nose, held it, and breathed out through her mouth. Slowly. Just as her father had taught her to do in a fight. When she’d run back into the darkened area of the ship’s hold and the disorganized lines of ‘bots, the human-like machines had been absolutely silent. Now they all emitted a faint hum. She couldn’t talk to Bracelet and use it to connect to Sixty to ask what the hum meant. Sometimes she could think to Carl Sagan, and he would respond, but he wasn’t responding now.
She could feel Sundancer, though. The ship’s anxiety for the team was a cold weight in the pit of her stomach. She tried to will herself not to be afraid—for Sundancer and herself. The poor ship still suffered from nightmares. Whatever gave a phaser-proof, impact-resistant faster-than-light “quantum wave bending” spaceship nightmares had to be much bigger and more terrible than this situation…Still, Volka didn’t want to give Sundancer any more reasons to have bad dreams. Sixty and Volka had taken on the Luddeccean Guard; android nappers were nothing compared to that. Of course, they’d had an alien spaceship to swoop in at the last minute during that showdown. Also, the Luddeccean Guard had all been only human. Volka thought that these men must be what Sixty called “augments” and Luddecceans called “cyborgs”—humans with machine parts. She had struck one of the men with a blow that should have taken out his kneecap, but the titanium bone she’d used to strike it had only bounced off the man’s leg with a faintly metallic ting.
A few steps away from her, one of her pursuers said, “We gotchu,” in a leering voice. His two companions snickered farther off. Thankfully, Leering Man was facing the other way. He was closing in on a sex ‘bot that Volka had thrown 6T9’s coat over. It had weere-like ears—something she didn’t want to think too closely about.
Leering Man lunged at the fake Volka, and Volka lunged too, striking him in the back of the head. This time there was no metallic ting, and the man fell forward with a groan, a pistol rattling on the floor. Hitting the prone man once more for good measure, Volka snatched up the pistol, 6T9’s coat, and then took off back into the maze of motionless ‘bots. Her Luddeccean leather-soled boots were nearly silent as she wove through the maze. The other men were heading toward their fallen comrade and away from her. She glanced down at the pistol and almost cursed. It was a phaser pistol. She couldn’t use it in the hold and risk a breach. Slipping it into 6T9’s coat next to Eliza’s ashes and shrugging the coat over her shoulders, she reminded herself she was small, she was quiet, and it was dark. As long as she continued to stay unnoticed…
“Miss Volka,” a child’s voice whispered. “Will you help me?”
Skidding to a halt, Volka’s head jerked in the direction of the voice. A meter away, she saw a perfect little boy with enormous brown eyes framed by long lashes and child-pink lips. She blinked. No, it wasn’t a little boy. A bit of synth skin was hanging by his ear, revealing a metal skeleton, and the arm of the hand he was putting to his mouth had no covering at all. It was just metal, tubing, lights, and wires.
She gaped.
“Please...Miss Volka,” the little boy android said, his lip trembling. “I’m scared.”
“She’s over there!” shouted one of the pirates.
A tear fell out of the android boy’s perfect eyes and rolled down his cheek. “Don’t let them get me!”
Volka didn’t think. Swooping in, she picked up the child. He was too heavy to be human, but when his arms wrapped around her neck, he buried his face against her, and she felt hot tears against her skin, he felt very human.
He whimpered, and she said, “Shhhh…shhh…” trying to move into the deeper shadows, but his weight impaired her speed and made her footfalls heavier. She heard a whirring and noticed that all the ‘bots were turning to look at her as she passed them.
“There she is! She’s got the boy ‘bot!” said one of the men, and she heard three sets of footfalls closing in on her. In the distance, she heard heavier steps—Sixty? She reached out with her heart, as she could to Sundancer, their spaceship, and Carl, trying to say where she was. But Sixty was a ‘bot, wasn’t telepathic, and he didn’t have a heart.
A stun blast passed by her shoulder, and the child ’bot let loose a wail. Volka felt like she would be sick. She was still clumsily holding the titanium long bone that was the only weapon she could use, but it was useless with the burden of the child. She dodged behind some sex ‘bots and tried to put him down. “I’ll fight them,” she promised. “I just have to set you down.”
His tiny body shook, but his arms and legs stayed wrapped around her, and in the instant she paused, she smelled a human man approaching. She tried to dodge, but he caught the collar of her shirt. With a cry, Volka jerked forward, and the fabric gave. The man didn’t curse. He laughed, and his friends began laughing with him, all too close. The boy in her arms cried, and she patted his head. “It will be all right. It will be all right,” she found herself murmuring with the intensity of a prayer. All around her, sex ‘bots turned to stare. Some looked like Sixty, but they didn’t have the smell of their asteroid or Celeste and Bart
. Somewhere she heard someone shout, “It’s over, 6T9 unit!”
One of the men near Volka feinted leaping at her. Volka spun, attempting to dodge, and backed into a sex ‘bot. Its arms wrapped around her and the boy, trapping them.
She saw the three men approaching her now. All were tall and broad. They smelled like stale sweat, alcohol, and the human S-rations she hated with a passion—all flour, pea protein, vitamins, and no meat. Tugging against the sex ‘bot’s arms, Volka’s lip curled up and she growled but couldn’t break free.
That earned more laughter.
And then, abruptly, every sex ‘bot turned to the pirates and said, in an eerie chorus, “Hey, Sailor.”
“What?” said the man closest to Volka, eyes getting wide.
The ‘bots came to life, swarming around him and the other attackers, packing so tightly that in moments, Volka couldn’t see her attackers anymore. Another chorus rose in the hold. “Wanna have a good time?”
In the press of bodies, she thought she made out her attackers, retaliating, trying to push the ‘bots away. She even saw one female ‘bot’s head jerk back as though she had been punched. “Oh, yes, baby, yes!” the ‘bot cried.
“Hey, Sailor!” all the ‘bots said in unison again. From the throng, she heard, “Hit me again!”
Behind Volka, a female voice whispered, “Have you regained your footing, miss?”
The arms around Volka dropped. Yelping, Volka spun awkwardly around, imbalanced by the boy’s weight. She found herself facing a female ‘bot with dark almond-shaped eyes, dark hair with dense curls, and milky white skin. The ‘bot was only wearing a pale pink sequined bikini.
“I…yes, thank you,” Volka said.
The ‘bot smiled. “I’m so happy to have helped. Now I must attend to the gentlemen behind you.” With that, she sashayed past Volka, raised an arm, and said, “Yoo-hoo, hey Sailor! Wanna have a good time?” and joined one of the throngs.
Volka stood shocked. The boy sniffled against her neck.
“Volka!” she heard Sixty exclaim and smelled their asteroid, Celeste, Bart, and him.