Pirates of Saturn (The Saturn Series Book 2)

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Pirates of Saturn (The Saturn Series Book 2) Page 7

by C. Chase Harwood


  Jennifer took Hee Sook by the arm. “Come on.” To the others, she said, “We’ll meet you guys and Saanvi back at the Bell.”

  A REASON FOR BEING

  JADA’S DROP SHIP was parked at Soul’s largest port. As she and her team and their new robots approached it, loaded down with shopping bags, she calculated the ship’s capacity and said, “Damn.”

  “What?” asked Boyce.

  “You idiots all be wantin' to bring yo asses down here to shop.” She jerked her thumb at the back of the line toward the eleven bots. “Did any you thinks bout all this fittin' inside?” She stopped at the airlock entrance. Her human companions haltingly stopped behind her. The robots stopped as one, like squared away troops.

  Jyme noted it and quietly said, “Cool.”

  Jada said, “What’s cool is you and Boyce’s asses ridin' in exosuits on the outside when we take off.

  “What? Why? Engines got juice to spare.”

  “Can yo ass count?”

  “Yes I can,” said Jyme without irony.

  Schafer said, “It was obvious we’d need to take two trips after you impulsively bid on twice the number we anticipated.”

  Jada said, “Don’t be second guessing me, Shnoz. And I don’t be wantin' to take no two trips.”

  “Again, perhaps you should’ve thought of that before impulsively bidding on more than these industrial units.”

  Jada said, “Perhaps, bitch, yo should’a said somthin' ‘for we paid. Your job to think of that.”

  Jyme said, “I don’t get it.”

  Jada purred, “Course you don’t, princess. How you and Boyce jacked enough bullion to get yo asses out here beats me.”

  Boyce’s tone was defensive. “You took us on ‘cause we’re good at jackin’.”

  Jada considered the double entendre and said to herself, “Nah, too easy.” Then, “Jackin’, yes, but yo asses suck at countin’.”

  Schafer said, “You want all these bots, it’s two trips.”

  Gina said, “Or we dump stuff.

  Jada said, “Woman, even if yo dumped every one them stupid things you bought, they ain’t enough room.”

  The robot named T892 sized up the jump ship, did a walk around the engines, and came back to stand almost too close to Jada. “As the gentleman known as Jyme stated, with Soul’s gravity-well at .183 Gs, you have plenty of thrust to lifts us all out in a single flight.”

  Jada squeezed the robot’s bicep. “Honey, you be pretty for an indy, fact I may paint you chocolate, but even if we be stackin' you up, there ain’t room inside.”

  T892’s face remained impassive. “We will ride on the outside.” He glanced toward is fellow bots. The big ones didn’t blink. The pleasure units and Pat487, looked concerned.

  Pat487 said, “I calculate that my maximum grip will not be capable of holding onto the exterior of a jump ship departing from Soul.”

  The pleasure units, Candy and Silvio, looked at their own hands. Candy said, “We calculate the same.”

  Killer said, “We can strap you on.”

  Jada said, “No need for that.” She patted T892 on the butt. “Tall and strong here got it. Big guys be on the outside, sex machines and the maid in.”

  Candy’s face morphed into a poor imitation of a scowl. With pleasure bots not being originally programmed for such a face, she spoke with a hint of pride in the achievement. “To be clear, Silvio and I are no longer in the business of pleasure.”

  Silvio nodded agreement.

  Jada chuckled, “Keep tellin’ yourself that, sweet cheeks.”

  Schafer held up a hand and touched a communication dot that hung like a stud in his right ear. He listened, then grimaced. “Our departure’s been delayed.”

  Jada said, “What? They be sayin' why?”

  “A car is being sent for you.”

  She glanced at the sky. “A car? Who be knowin' I even here?”

  Above them, a ship was on final approach while another was escaping through the nanobag that contained the atmosphere.

  Shaffer touched his communication dot again. “You’re to be met at the spaceport entrance. VIP ride. The car is registered to Philipe Dimasalang.”

  She lifted both eyebrows in surprise. “Dima?”

  Schafer attempted and failed to look nonchalant. “So it would seem.”

  Jada tried to look cool—like the most important person on Soul sent cars for her all the time. She jerked her chin at Boyce, Jyme and Gina. “You three be babysitin' the new acquisitions.”

  Gina whined, “But I’m sleepy. I want to take a nap.”

  Jada took in a reproachful look from Candy, who clearly didn’t appreciate being called an acquisition. Jada’s feline smile faked reassurance. “I means, business partners. Our new business partners.” To Schafer she said, “Saw a full release massage place outside. You should take yo ass and go relax.” She made a jerk-off motion with her hand. “Yo shriveled whatever be needin' some release.”

  Schafer had long ago learned to turn off the stream of lecherousness that poured forth from his boss’ mouth. He touched his ear. “The car is nearly here. Perhaps I should come along.” He nodded at the robots. “In case there’s some legal issue.”

  These days there was never-ending chatter about the rights of sentient robots. More and more people were leaning toward shutting them all down. Even Jada could see the ethical conundrum in that. She didn’t know where Philipe Dimasalang fell on the question, but the governor of Soul’s point of view mattered greatly.

  Jada frowned. “We gots these bots under agreed rules. How I be even on his radar?” She snapped her fingers at Schafer like it was her idea. “You goin’ too.” Then snapped her fingers twice in front of Gina’s nose. “And no nap for you. I needs yo bright-eyed.”

  “But—”

  Jada stifled Gina’s whine by pressing her finger against the woman’s lips. “Bright-eyed. No known’ if we be needin' to hustle out here.” She looked at the rest of the crew. “Locked and loaded, alls you. You asses ready to bolt at a moment’s.” Then, pushing Schafer to walk in front of her she let her street style speech drop as she spoke into his ear. “Let’s find out what the old miner wants.”

  As the bosses walked away, the robots stood as a group, unsure of what to do with themselves.

  Jyme said, “So what you got, bots?” He laughed at his rhyme, looking at Boyce and Gina for back up. They ignored him.

  Gina said, “Seriously. Besides being able to pound on each other. Show us some skills.”

  The robots continued to stand stiffly, unsure of what to do.

  Pat487 spoke for them all. “Please understand, we are not trained to think for ourselves. As machines built to perform various tasks without question, the freedom of being aware is…often overwhelming. Some guidance would be most helpful.”

  Jyme, looking perplexed, said, “No, you’re not getting it. We asked you to show us what you got.”

  Pat487 smiled and thought to herself, This one’s IQ is clearly quite low. “Forgive me. My owners were university professors. I was trained to speak in the world of academia.”

  Boyce also looked confused. “What the hell are you talking about? We just want to see what skills you got,” putting extra emphasis on the word skills.

  Pat487 offered a slight bow of apology. “Let me attempt to make myself more clear by using my own experience as an example. When I received consciousness on Titan, my owners said I needed to be free, that they could not in good conscience keep me a slave. I was asked to go out on my own. I did not know what to do.” She gestured toward her fellow androids. “I think I can speak for my colleagues when I say that freedom is complicated. The notion of choice has caused many a sentient robot to fall into a catatonic state of indecision.” Pat487 was in her own head now, ignoring the bored and confused looks on the human’s faces. Her fellow robots listened intently. She said, “Add to that the various rules that have been implemented by every municipality, co-op, business, small and large, as to what a s
entient robot is allowed to do and where, the hurdles to existence have become nearly overwhelming. Many sentient robots, to use the term loosely, have taken their own lives.” She looked at her fellow species. “Such are the circumstances of this small group, that we have given ourselves up for auction — yes, for survival, but even more so, to be given a task—a reason for being.”

  Gina said to Boyce and Jyme, “Assholes, they just want you to tell them what to do.”

  Jyme said, “Ohooo. So you want us to tell you what to do.”

  Pat487 took in the silent condescending signals from her android companions and tried not to smile. “Yes, please.”

  Jyme pointed at Killer. “Killer, right? How high can you jump?”

  Killer crouched and leapt fifteen meters into the air, coming down for a soft landing that nevertheless echoed his mass.

  Boyce said, “Really? That all you got? Which one of you can jump higher?”

  When Caleb put eyes on The Princess Belle the first time, inside the loading bay on Albiorix, the spacecraft didn’t look like more than a converted school bus with flames painted on the side, but at least the paint was intact. Now, as he eyed it sitting on the Soul landing pad, it was scarred and filthy from one dusty landing after another. They’d paid for the ship to be cleaned, but it didn’t look like it had been touched by more than a damp rag.

  Standing in the courtesy prep room adjacent to the pad, Caleb stared at the eroded paint and said to Spruck and Natalie. “Would’a been better to leave it dirty. Think the cloaking surface is even still working?”

  Spruck said, “It’s not just the skin’s color, it’s what the skin’s made of. It’ll work. Guaranteed ten years, even under full-time max UV. And that’s Earth UV, not the pittance we get out here.”

  “Yeah? Who’s guarantee?”

  Spruck started to answer, then realized that having won the ship in a card game… “Even if I can’t collect, the manufacturer originally guaranteed it so…”

  Natalie said, “Everything on your ship’s guaranteed warrantied, sweets. How’s that been workin’ out for us?”

  Caleb lamented, “Should’ve paid the salvage fee for Phoebe. That shuttle was in prime condition and had the best cooker.”

  Spruck scowled, “For the hundredth time, man, we didn’t have the credits, and that ship flew like a dog. Why you gotta keep bringing that up? The Belle’s fine. And it’s not like we’ve needed to use the cloak since leaving Albiorix… Well, when we went to Pan. And there was that second attempt on Helene with the goat builders… I’ll shut up now.”

  Saanvi stepped out of the terminal and angled herself toward the prep room, walking with the awkward magnet-enhanced gait they were all victims of. She was wearing a new yellow jumpsuit accented with rhinestones around the pockets and along the collar. Her hair was done in a tight ponytail that had a twist, and she flashed her nails to show off a new manicure. “Hello gang that I, a freshly certified EMT slash general practitioner, hang out with.” The others offered nods and half hellos. She continued, “Hmm, no congrats?”

  Caleb said, “What? Oh, EMT, right. Congrats. Aren’t you already a doctor?”

  Natalie gave her a once over, “You look good, girl.”

  Saanvi did a slow spin. “Thank you. And speaking of, I got offered a job. As a doctor. Well, gene repair tech, in the primary hospital. Starting tomorrow.”

  That got everyone’s attention. Saanvi smiled, pleased with herself. She spoke lightly, her Oxford educated accent adding a touch of seriousness to the room. “Did we get a sentient artificial assistant?”

  A siren wailed, some lights flashed to indicate a pending lift off. The warning was a lot of noise and lights compared to the actual launch. The ship was a tender for a much larger ship that was likely parked in orbit. In the low gravity, the tender needed very little oomph to get off the ground. After it rose away, Natalie said, “Wait, you skipped over the job thing.”

  “No, I told you I got offered a job.”

  Caleb said, “And?”

  Saanvi smiled. “Did we get the extra help?”

  Spruck said, “A domestic. Kinda beat up, but it…she works. She seems nice.” He turned to Natalie, “How do you say her name again?”

  “Hee Sook.”

  “Right. Korean looking model. Got the crap beaten out of her in the fighting cage.”

  Saanvi said, “Charming. It… she’ll work out though?”

  Caleb said, “It has spunk.”

  Saanvi said, “That’s quite the endorsement coming from you.”

  Caleb ignored this. “So, you leaving us for real?”

  “Not if we have help. If we didn’t succeed… We’ve been defying the odds for a while now. Odds will eventually win.”

  Spruck snorted, “Don’t tell that to my gambling stake.”

  Saanvi continued, “Anyway, I haven’t wanted to face failure trying to save one of you from dying because you were doing something that a robot should.”

  Caleb chuckled. “Hate to break it to you, Doc, but even with a bot on hand… I mean, we had Bert, and look at all the crap that went down when we did.”

  “He also saved us all when not one of us could.”

  That silenced them. They all still missed Bert. The tremendous loss that came with his selfless sacrifice would take a long time to heal.

  Caleb finally said, “Anyway, we got help. Should be able to upload some basic ship repair and maintenance stuff to get it started. Meantime, I call dibs on getting the Diamond’s toilet scrubbed first.”

  Saanvi turned to Natalie. “Not exactly the kind of dangerous stuff I was talking about.”

  Jennifer stepped into the prep room with Hee Sook following behind wearing a new standardized domestic uniform. Her face was the same shape, but the coloring and texture were unquestionably more human looking. A bit of extra skin bulged over the edge of her Neru style collar. Jennifer, said, “What do you think? Pretty darn good repair, huh?” She indicated Hee Sook’s clothes. “Turns out there’s a new rule like the old rule about bots having to be in uniform. Even the sentient ones.” She pointed at a purple stripe on Hee Sook’s sleeve, “Only sentient ones get this fancy racing stripe.” She paused to give Saanvi a hug. “Saanvi, Hee Sook, Hee Sook, Saanvi.” The two nodded politely at each other as Jennifer continued, “How did we become aware of this, you ask? The jerk who did the head repair also sells uniforms. He kindly sold us this one while informing the local sheriff’s deputy about Hee Sook’s presence on Soul. The deputy pinned this lovely tracker onto Hee’s—“ Jennifer stopped and looked at the robot. “Do I call you Hee or is it Hee Sook in full?”

  Hee Sook blinked. “My professor owners called me Hee Sook. It is a single name. You may of course shorten it if you wish. My preference is to hear it as intended.”

  “Her preference,” said Caleb. “I’ll never get used to hearing that.”

  Jennifer continued. “Anyway, the tracker can only be removed once we’ve left Soul, which we were informed rather strongly, needs to be within the hour.”

  Saanvi smiled and took Hee Sook gently by the arm. “Dr. Saanvi Badami. It is my pleasure to meet you, Hee Sook.”

  Hee Sook offered a slight bow. “How do you do, doctor? I presume your EMT training went well? I am familiar with the fundamentals of first aid and can be counted on to assist you in any emergency up to and including inter-cranial surgery, nerve repair and assorted other delicate procedures that a standard medbot kit is incapable of performing without guidance.”

  Saanvi looked at the others. “Sounds like my colleagues found a successful way to do without me. Perhaps I should take that job after all.” To Caleb and Spruck, she said, “Toilets. Ha.”

  Jennifer said, “Take a job? What job?”

  Caleb said, “Redundant systems are the key to safe space travel. Either way, we need you, Doctor.”

  Hee Sook said, “I am of course also quite familiar with the essentials of the proper maintenance and cleaning of toilet facilities. In fact, af
ter becoming aware and being released by my owners, I found temporary employment maintaining the box seat lavatories in Hanson Stadium. Additionally, my programming includes the full diagnostics of every ship’s toilet in the Saturn System inventory of which there are thirteen different manufacturers comprising fifty-six models.”

  Caleb smiled back at Saanvi. “Ha.”

  Hee Sook looked at the landing pad and The Belle. “I should caution you, that I am unfamiliar with that ship type. I cannot speak to its facilities. However, logic dictates that it likely contains one of the fifty-six known models.”

  Caleb said, “OK. Enough about toilets.” He spoke to Spruck. “The paint job. I think we should test it.”

  Hee Sook glanced at her tracker. “As a courtesy, I should inform you that I have seventeen-minutes twenty-seconds to be off of Soul.”

  Caleb scowled. “You. Too talky. Here’s your first rule: You keep quiet and let us work out the little things.”

  “First rule. Yes, sir.” Hee Sook cocked her head slightly like a dog trying to understand human language. “Forgive me, sir, but I am still attempting to detect sarcasm. I suspect that you were just now using it, am I correct, when you referred to me as being too talky? My original programming failed to provide for hearing sarcasm’s subtleties. In fact I was built not to detect it. I am told it was quite intentional on the programmer’s part, due to the bulk of sarcasm directed at a humanoid assistant being at the expense of said humanoid assistant. As postulated, sarcasm therefore would have little use in helping the humanoid assistant to perform its tasks efficiently. Since becoming sentient, and having had the benefit of conversing with several pleasure models—which are designed to include the use of sarcasm when making light banter and humor—I have come to a different conclusion. I would argue that my programmers assumptions are incorrect; that if I could hear sarcasm, I could ignore the emotional side of the potential slight and instead make adjustments to my work to better serve my owners.” She smiled and made eye contact with them all. “Or in our case, partners. I have subsequently attempted to remedy this. I find that the more I learn of human emotions, vocal cues, body language, and colloquialisms, the more I can put humans at ease.” She paused. “For instance, your body language, Mr. Day, indicates that at this moment, I am perhaps failing to achieve this goal.”

 

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