Pirates of Saturn (The Saturn Series Book 2)

by C. Chase Harwood

  Spruck said with a shiver, “So is this like walk the plank with these jokers?”

  Saanvi asked, “What’s walk the plank?”

  Natalie looked at her sideways. “Seriously? You heard of pirates before?”

  Spruck held up a hand to Natalie. “Now now. Maybe India doesn’t have the same swashbuckling traditions of—“

  Saanvi sighed in interruption. “Of course I’ve heard of pirates.”

  Spruck turned to Natalie. “See?” He continued for Saanvi’s sake, “In the olden days, pirates tied people up so they couldn’t swim and made them walk off a plank, like a diving board into the sea.” He noted their bindings. “We are tied. There’s no plank, but if they open the door.”

  Saanvi said, “What would be the purpose of that? If they haven’t killed us by now…”

  “Still plenty of time,” said Natalie.

  Saanvi rolled her eyes. “If we weren’t worth something to them, they would have killed us already. I’m guessing they don’t have a better place to hold us.”

  A female voice came through a speaker. “You be right on both counts. We ain’t gots a brig, and if we be havin' a plank, you all’d be standing on it—floatin' in it.”

  The three captives looked around at their surroundings and at the porthole window with deep space beyond.

  The voice continued, “Name’s Captain Temple. You gots the good luck of being captured by…” She paused and spoke to herself under her breath. “That be some weak ass shit.” Then louder over the speaker she cleared her throat. “You’s being in luck…” Then, more muffled words, “Shit. Sounds like I’s be sellin' somethin'.”

  In the background behind her, they could hear a man sigh, “You are selling something. Their lives back.”

  “Right, the usual. Just gotta be gettin’ this here speech down better.” Then closer to the mic. “You ain’t dead yet, cause… Fuck.” There was the muffling sound of a hand going over the mic and then, “Hang on.”

  Spruck looked at his companions and whispered, “Is this a prank? Did Caleb put someone up to this? ‘Cause I’m freakin’ pissed if he—”

  Jada came back on. “Shut yo cake hole, bitch. Here be the deal. We’s currently in the bidness of expanding our ranks. You folks seems like the types we likes to recruit. Yo fancy ass ship says you likes makin stuff disappear and reappear. So when we be meetin' folks like you—“

  Spruck snorted incredulously. “Meet?”

  Natalie said, “And who talks like that anymore? Sounds like that dumb fad in the Eighties.”

  “Shut yo ass up, beeotch.” Then to Spruck, “Meet, grab, whatever. Folks like you, we likes to be offerin' a choice. We gives yo a tour, fill yo in on the operation, yo takes a personality test. We all be agreein' it might work out, we don’t space yo. Or, we be spacin' yo right now. Your choice. Nothin’ personal.”

  Saanvi shivered and rubbed her arms. “Sooo, this isn’t a prank.”

  Jada said, “Honey, if this be a prank, whoever yo friend be yo thinkin' is punkin yo, he be a real asshole.”

  Spruck, Natalie and Saanvi looked at each other as if to confirm that Caleb wouldn’t go this far. Spruck finally said to the speaker, “We’d love to take the tour.”

  Caleb sat strapped into his seat in the Diamond Girl’s cockpit holding a penlight over a printed out instruction booklet. He snapped his fingers. “Yes!”

  Jennifer floated in. “What? What’s yes?”

  Caleb offered a self-satisfied smile and poked the booklet. “It’s good to have a former cop ship.”

  “You gonna tell me why?”

  “Fumes.”

  “Fumes?”

  “Exhaust. Ion atoms or whatever. Stuff that comes out of a rocket engine.”

  “Water?”

  “OK. Sure. Anyway, this ship can follow it.”

  “Seriously? Like what, breadcrumbs?”

  “Huh?”

  “Breadcrumbs? Like Hansel and Gretel?”

  “Who?”

  “You’re messing with me.”

  Caleb chuckled and gave her a light punch on the arm. “Yes, like breadcrumbs. If we can get this baby moving, we can follow the exhaust trail of the sons-a-bitches.”

  The emergency lights flickered and went out.

  Hee Sook called from the darkness behind them, “I’m not certain that the repair instructions I uploaded pertain to this particular type of damage.”

  All the lights and systems flashed, then came back on.

  Hee Sook said, “Oh. Never mind. I calcula…think…believe that was just a reboot.”

  IMPRESSMENT

  SPRUCK, NATALIE AND Saanvi floated in the airlock expectantly staring at the inner door. There was a thunking sound followed by the noise of air seals releasing. The door popped slightly open, then hinged upward. The robots, Killer and Klaus stood in the adjoining prep room, their magnetic boots holding them to the floor. They shuffled back a few steps.

  Recognizing the bots, Spruck said, “Hey, I know you.”

  Saanvi looked at him like he was nuts.

  Spruck said, “The auction where we got Hee Sook.” He pointed at the bots. “They were there. In the ring.”

  Natalie, also recognizing them said, “Oh yeah.”

  Killer smiled. “I am instructed to inform you that we have permission to force you to,” he paused awkwardly, “swallow your own fists if you make trouble.”

  Klaus looked sideways at Killer. “Those were not the words used when the actual instruction was delivered.”

  Spruck held his hands up in supplication, fingers spread wide. “Potato, potahto, no need for fist eating.”

  Waiving for the prisoners to float out, Killer said to Klaus. “Recall that mechanic’s words before they banished us from the Herschel Crater?”

  Klaus said, “Figure out how to use your imaginations, assholes, or you might as well find a wall to stare at.”

  “Yes, exactly. What did he mean by that?”

  “I found it a curious statement. I still do.”

  Spruck, Natalie and Saanvi remained floating in front of the robots not sure what to do next.

  Killer’s eyes seemed to cloud as he looked at Klaus, as though this was a dead end conversation they’d had many times. “Would you prefer to be staring at a wall, Klaus?”

  “Yes, if that is how I am so directed. I would also prefer to communicate via packet bursts, but you insist on using your vocals.”

  Killer balled his fist and held it near Spruck’s face, ignoring the human’s reaction of jerking his head back. “Sad for you, Klaus. I prefer to utilize my imagination.” He snatched Spruck’s elastoware by the sleeve and pulled him close. “For instance, I receive pleasure when considering ramming a fist down this one’s throat. I also enjoy the sound of my own voice.”

  Jada’s voice came over the speaker. “That be some messed up shit. Now shut the fug up, quit foolin’ around, and get them newbies up to the mess.”

  Klaus said, “Aye aye, Captain.” Then to Killer in a whisper, “The appropriate use of vocalization.”

  Killer smiled, “You are getting it. You could have sent that in a burst packet, but you did not.”

  Klaus whispered, “Actually, this ship monitors all burst packets and alerts the captain if inappropriate communications are happening between us. In this case, softly spoken words are less likely to be noted.”

  Jada said, “I be hearin' you just fine. If yo jerks keep tryin' to talk behind my back, I shut you off, dismantle you, and kick your sorry ass pieces out in the cold.”

  Killer said to Klaus in a normal voice, “I like her.”

  “T892 already has the job you wish for.”

  Killer scowled and roughly formed up the prisoners.

  With Killer in front, and Klaus in back, the prisoners floating in-between; the robots headed for the junction that led down to the spinning portion of the ship and its faux gravity.

  Natalie knew the type the moment she put eyes on Jada. It was called trying too har
d — too hard to look tough, too hard to look sexy, too hard to look young. Natalie’d of course seen Jada at the auction, but the captain’s style was more subdued then. Here on her own ship, she let it all hang out. Natalie thought, advertisement for a B&M leather and lace site. And you’re old, bitch. You’re not foolin' anybody. Jada’s face and body were augmented for youth, just like everybody else, but Nat could always spot the elderly. It was in the eyes. Then there was that bullshit way of speaking; shit, thirty-or-so-years ago rich privileged girls started a fad where they talked like they were some kind of street-smart inner city girls. It was an affront then; it was just downright weird now. Pathetic old bitch.

  Jada’s insecurities had her constantly on the lookout for such criticism. She immediately spotted Natalie sizing her up. She cast her hand down her body like a car model showing off a hotrod. “Don’t be jealous, baby.”

  Natalie, without giving it any thought, let out a condescending laugh. “Baby. That’s my bit.”

  Faster than anyone but the nearby robots could see, Jada sent a tight fist into Natalie’s nose, bursting the blood vessels inside and sending a river down her chin and mouth.

  Natalie staggered back holding her face. She was caught by Killer, who held her up straight.

  Schafer was in the room. He rolled his eyes in a reflexive manner.

  Jada eyeballed Spruck and Saanvi, who were instinctively about to protest. They reconsidered and kept their mouths shut. She turned her attention back to Natalie. “We be understandin' each other, baby?”

  Natalie nodded while tilting her head back and gently holding her nose.

  Jada turned to Schafer. “You got it from here?”

  “Indeed, I do.”

  Jada turned to step out of the small, mostly empty room, then stopped. Looking back at her prisoners, she indicated the two robots. “My new acquirements be needin’ trainin’ with live subjects. It be our code to give you a shot.” She looked square at Natalie, “I already knows yo ass ain’t cracked up fo this. When you fails, we do an assault drill with yo ass. The takes no prisoners kind.”

  Spruck said, “Not to change the subject entirely, but speaking of taking or not taking prisoners. Would it be much trouble to ask after our friends in the other ship, and our friend who got launched out our airlock?”

  Jada cocked her head in surprise. She’d just threatened these people with a harsh ending, and this guy is asking about left-behinds. He was either dumb, brave or both. A very useful type. She finally said, “It be our policy not to be committin’ murder wet.” She headed out the door. “If yo friends be smart, they be survivin’ ah’ight.”

  Caleb stared at the readout and swore under his breath.

  Jennifer, who was strapped into the co-pilot’s chair snoozing, blinked open her eyes. “What?”

  “It’s dissipating.”

  “What is?”

  “The trail. Diamond is finding it harder to follow the exact direction. The course hasn’t changed much, but it’s not a straight line. They made that one turn. If they made another, we lost them.”

  “And you still don’t think we should call the police?”

  Caleb looked at her with skepticism. “Need I say it again?”

  “But Bez swore he’d clean it up.”

  “And you think that happened in the last three months?” He pointed out the window. “For all we know, those assholes who attacked us are the cops.”

  Jennifer frowned with frustration, but kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t going to change his mind. But then again… “What about calling Monty directly? I mean, what are we going to do if we catch up with them? They already kicked our asses once and let us live. You think they’ll do that again?”

  Caleb patted the console. “We weren’t ready for them. This time we will be.”

  Jennifer shook her head in exasperation. “I’m going to shoot Monty a note with our coordinates and general direction. That way when we disappear for good, they have an idea where the bodies are.”

  Caleb looked at her and saw the seriousness in her eyes. “Fine.”

  An hour and forty-minutes later, they got a text from Monty: You people are dang fools and I don’t want nothing to do with you. That said, I passed along your info to the commander on Soul. Turn your transponder on and give them a wink so they can keep an eye on you.

  Caleb said, “No Way! If they’re tied in with these raiders they’re tipped off. Not a chance.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Jen, the cops—cops I worked with—blew your farm to the rings. Do you really need to ask more?”

  “But they were with Wang—“

  “No! I’m not gonna to trust’em. Period.”

  Jennifer unbuckled herself and floated out of the cockpit. “I’m getting something to eat.”

  “Mind making me something?”

  Jennifer didn’t respond.

  “Hello?”

  She ignored him.

  Caleb sighed. “Hee Sook?”

  Hee Sook was thinking about stress. Like everything else that came with genuine bonafide feelings, stress seemed to be a daily part of consciousness. She pulled up a sub-archive of the various arguments that her professor owners had over the years. She hadn’t been aware of documenting them, but when she called up a certain vocal tone common in arguments, thousands of pieces of conversation became available for her to analyze. Where such sounds never bothered her before, she now found them to be exceedingly grating—not unlike the argument happening before her right now. She pulled away from her docking station and floated into the cockpit doorway. “Sir?”

  Caleb was about to spit out a demand for some lunch, when Jennifer called out, “Tell him to make his own lunch.”

  Hee Sook smiled at Caleb. “I am quite familiar, sir, with the tone Ms. Jennifer is invoking. Though it would be my pleasure to prepare you some food, my experience with marital relations indicates that I should allow you to get your own.”

  “Seriously? I’m working. And we’re not married!”

  “Indeed, you are not, sir. However, the tone and actions I have observed between you indicate a marital style relationship. My experience informs me that by remaining a neutral party I will help reduce—“

  “Neutral party? How is you refusing to make me lunch neutral?”

  In the main cabin Jennifer grinned.

  Hee Sook looked at Caleb with the sympathy one might show a moron. “Regarding the current disagreement between you, Caleb, and Ms. Jennifer, I compute…feel that by choosing to make myself a bystander—by not making myself available for either party as referee and or assistant—the disagreement cannot escalate with myself as a factor.”

  Caleb mumbled, “My experience, blah, blah, blah. We brought you on to help. I need to pilot the ship. You need to help by getting me some lunch.”

  Hee Sook looked afar for a blink. “The Diamond Girl informs me that all systems are on autopilot with the priority set to follow the exhaust trail of the so-named assault ship.”

  Jennifer covered a laugh, burying her mouth in the crook of her elbow.

  The robot continued, “You may therefore safely exit the cockpit to prepare your lunch. If it makes you more comfortable, I can stay in touch with the ship while you do so. I believe that would be considered help.”

  “Fine!” Caleb popped the seatbelt harness and floated out of his chair. “I needed to stretch anyway.” He glared at Hee Sook as he passed her.

  In the main cabin Jennifer smiled at him. “I’m going to have the printer make mac’n cheese with a side of that pureed spinach you like. Shall I have it make two?”

  Caleb opened his mouth to bitch, then relaxed. “Sure. That’d be nice.”

  Natalie, who had cotton swabs stuffed in her nose to stem dribbling blood, hung in the air with Spruck and Saanvi in a small room. They were strapped into cheap virtual reality suits, connected to thin cables that disappeared into mechanisms in the ceiling. Their bodies jerked right and left, up and down as they held pen shaped
objects like weapons.

  The game they were playing involved an assault of a large moon-based space station. The assault team they were part of was a group of pirates, one of which was an avatar of Jada Temple. They were fighting civilians, but as they turned a corner, they found themselves facing a phalanx of police. There was a pause as both forces faced each other. Spruck, Saanvi and Natalie had a choice to make, turn their guns on their pirate tormenters behind them or…

  The pirates turned their backs on the police and continued their fight with the civilians. The police made no move to stop them.

  Spruck, Saanvi and Natalie’s avatars glanced at each other sarcastically—the test was so obvious; the cops were clearly paid off. They turned their backs on the police as well, joining the pirates, pouring their fire into the civilians.

  Then a police shot them all in the back.

  “Fail!” came Jada’s voice over their earphones and the game was stopped.

  The three suddenly popped free from the cables and fell to the floor. They weakly took off their headgear. The door opened. Killer and Klaus walked in and grabbed Saanvi, dragging her out the door.

  She didn’t struggle. What was the point?

  They left the door wide open. Spruck and Natalie hesitated, then followed. The two robots were hustling Saanvi back to the ladder that led down, or up, depending on one’s perspective, to the airlock prep room.

  Natalie called, “Wait! What’re you doing?”

  The bots ignored her. Saanvi continued to cooperate.

  Spruck looked around for a weapon, but there was nothing loose on the walls. They picked up their pace, catching up to the bots. Klaus was leading, his hand firmly holding Saanvi’s wrist. His grip clearly hurt. Her face was squished up in pain.

  It shot through Spruck’s head that robots were supposed to be incapable of inflicting pain on a human. His preference for sexual relations with bots depended on that fact. The realization rammed home the risks involved with sentient robots. It should have been, long ago, when Bert killed all the Wang Fat guys, but that had been in defense of Spruck and his friends. Now a robot was hurting his friend. He yelled, “Stop! We can negotiate this. What do you want us to do?”