Pirates of Saturn (The Saturn Series Book 2)

by C. Chase Harwood

  “It’s gonna be a pretty tight fit getting you guys in The Belle also,” said Spruck optimistically.

  Hee Sook said, “They don’t want to come with us Mr. Jones.”

  The opposing robots proceeded to have a silent conversation. Killer started it, saying to Pat487 and Bruno, Stop right now, and we will put in a good word for you. The humans and the troublemaker still need to be shut down.

  Caleb said, “Um, hello? What are we doing here? They don’t want to come? Fine.”

  Killer continued to focus his message at Pat487 and Bruno. Do we have a deal? I have already alerted the station’s security apparatus. Armed persons will be here momentarily.

  Pat487 spoke in an aside to Bruno, “Have you ever seen a sentient robot lie?”

  Bruno said, “I have not. However, there is no longer anything prohibiting us. Why?”

  “Look at his face. There is no deal.” Pat487 charged at Killer.

  Killer was no pushover. He reached out and grabbed Pat487’s shoulders and used her own momentum to toss her over his head and against a wall. It was such a hard throw that her right arm bent in the wrong direction and stayed that way.

  “No!” yelled Bruno with a lover’s rage. He charged at Killer, landing a crippling flying kick to the big robot’s knee, buckling it.

  Hee Sook charged Carlos and Klaus, jumping up between the two and delivering a split kick to both of their heads.

  T892 shoved Jada at Spruck, who awkwardly grabbed the groggy woman, trying to hold her up under her armpits. Her arms simply shot up into the air and she slipped from his grasp onto the floor.

  Bruno had kicked the much larger Killer in the chest, sending him crashing into a wall, and was about to deliver a vicious-looking roundhouse kick, when a gun fired. A bullet slammed straight through Bruno’s head. The momentum of his kick still carried him into the air, then he fell to the floor.

  Pat487 was distracted by the loss enough to get her legs swept by Carlos; the move inadvertently saving her from several passing bullets.

  A handful of pirates were coming down the hallway, guns leveled.

  Caleb grabbed Jennifer and Natalie and pulled them through the door behind him marked Beach. “Come on come on.”

  Spruck followed, leaving Jada on the floor. “What’s your plan? What’s your plan?”

  Caleb’s eyes scanned the room. “How the hell do I know?”

  T892 bashed through the door, startling them all, and dropped Jada onto the sandy floor. He gave them an admonishing look and rushed back into the hallway.

  A disembodied voice coming from a tiki hut called out, “Welcome to Treasure Island. Our apologies, the former bartender is otherwise floating in space. Help yourselves to something to ease yourselves into one of our fine chaise lounges. Today’s temperature is a lovely 28 degrees with water to match.”

  The gang frantically searched around the beach and the tiki hut for self-defensive inspiration. Finally Caleb grabbed a couple of bottles of rum. “Need something to make fire!”

  There were tiki torches, but for obvious safety reasons, they had fake flames.

  Outside, the loud bangs of semi-automatic weapons joined the sound of disruptor fire. Hee Sook came running through the door. She ripped open the emergency breather locker, grabbed a handful of the devices and passed them to the others. “No time. Follow me.” She began wading into the water.

  The rest stood on the beach looking at her like she’d fried a processor. She turned to them. “Pat487 shared the schematics for this place. Trust me.”

  T came crashing backward through the door with half his scalp ripped off, bullet holes all over his torso. He stood up and charged right back out.

  Caleb waded in, saying, “Right. Let's not dillydally.”

  The fifty-meter wide manmade sea met with a curved wall only eighteen-meters from shore. A projection on the wall made it appear like there was a continuing sea that led all the way out to an Earth-like horizon-line with blue skies above. Hee Sook didn’t swim, she sunk. As she continued to walk under the water, the others put on the emergency breathers and swam behind her. Four-meters down, they reached the central drain for the continuous pumping system. The specs in Hee Sook’s head needlessly informed her that the system could draw four-million liters of water per hour, thus insuring that the giant pool remained treated. The most important spec was the size of the drain opening. At sixty-two centimeters, it would be snug.

  A wire mesh dome protected the drain, keeping loose objects from clogging the grate. She tore this aside with eye-popping strength, then reached down and easily removed the grate, setting it next to the hole. She waved for the others to follow and dove in without hesitation. The others watched her in surprise. They looked at each other almost on a dare to see who would go next. Jennifer swam to the edge, stared into total darkness, and dove in. She didn’t need to swim; the water pulled her along like she’d been flushed down a toilet. Natalie, Saanvi and Spruck followed feet first. Caleb looked behind to see if any other robots were coming. The moody light at the surface that mimicked a late equatorial afternoon changed to blasting bright light. He turned around and went in feet first, making sure to pull the grate over the hole as he did. The fit was tight for his broad shoulders, but the suction pulled him through.

  CLUB FLED

  AS SHE LAY at the entrance to the beach, Jada was groggy, her vision blurred, but she made out Pat487 crashing through the door, hopping over her, and running into the water. She forced herself to stand and stumbled dizzily into the tiki hut where she knew the mood controls were. She flicked the maintenance lights on, killing the illusion of a Caribbean dreamscape. Chico came running in, an assault weapon in one hand, a disruptor in the other. He had a gash on his head, but he was clear-eyed. Jada pointed, “They’s be in the water, Cheeks.”

  Chico leveled the gun and fired randomly into the pool.

  Well away from the line of fire, inside the dark pipe, there was a sudden bend and Caleb felt his feet crash against Spruck’s shoulders, bringing him to a stop, the water gushing past him, pulling at his elastoware. He could only assume that the larger man below was stuck. It was so perfectly pitch black that if it weren’t for the rush of water indicating which way was down, he would have been completely disoriented. So this is what it’s like to be a rat flushed down the toilet. He felt Spruck’s hand on his foot, lifting his toes and pulling them down onto his shoulder over and over. He wants me to stomp on him. There was barely enough room to lift a leg. When he did, his knee almost immediately touched the wall of the tube. Sorry buddy, not going to be much of a stomp. He kicked down, first softly for fear of hurting the man, and then harder as his panic started to grow. He could hear the man cry out through his mask as the blows got harder, but he wasn’t moving a centimeter. Then something crashed into Caleb with such shocking force that they squirted through the bend.

  They came out in a large tank that but for Saanvi and Natalie’s wrist devices lighting it up, would have been pitch black as well. The water was swirling in a whirlpool fashion. Everyone who’d popped through in front of him was clinging to a ladder trying to keep their heads above water. Then Pat487 came up, one arm twisted above her head and looking severely broken, the other pulling hard to get to the edge.

  Having caught her breath, Jennifer tossed her breather aside and climbed the ladder. At the top was a hatch with a wheel lock. She twisted it with all her might and got it to open, filling the tank with a dull light.

  When they were all out, they found themselves in a room surrounded by pipes and assorted smaller enclosed tanks. It was nearly deafening with motors and pumps.

  Pat487, looking ridiculous with her arm above her head, said, “Keep moving forward to the maintenance corridor, please.” She pointed. “That way.”

  Spruck, who was rubbing his shoulder, looked at her arm with alarm. “Can I do something about that for you?”

  Pat487 looked up at it as if noticing it for the first time. “It may cause further damage, b
ut I would appreciate it if you could try to bend it down in front of me.”

  Spruck nodded and grabbed the arm, first gently, then with a grimace, forcing it through cracking sounds until it stopped, bent in front of her.

  Pat487 said, “Thank you. Let’s go.”

  Spruck said, “What about your friends?”

  “They are permanently disabled.” She said it more with anger than sorrow. “Please, follow me. We are fortunate that we were forced to take this route. This corridor has access to an elevator that leads to the boarding corridor.”

  Caleb chuckled while squeezing water out of his sleeve. “Fortunate.”

  Jennifer said, “They'll be watching the boarding corridor the most.”

  Pat487 said, “Yes, but Fran works there.”

  “Fran?” asked Saanvi as she picked up her pace to keep up.

  Pat487 walked quickly. “She was one of our group hired on Soul. We are communicating.”

  Jennifer said, “I remember that one. Female industrial. She chopped one of you others in the throat.”

  They reached the door, Hee Sook in the lead. She peered outside. “I see only two cameras. Unfortunately, they are both near the elevator.”

  “Then we must wait,” said Pat487.

  “Wait?” said Caleb. “For what?”

  “Fran.”

  An interminable period of time went by for the humans. The robots on the other hand, exhibited their usual stoic patience. Finally, the elevator opened and two men cautiously stepped out. They were well armed and dressed in elastoware with some colorful embellishments.

  No uniforms for this bunch, thought Caleb as he peered over Hee Sook’s head.

  They all stepped back into the room. Hee Sook gently pushed the door shut. Caleb started looking around for something he could make into a weapon. Loose wrenches or pipes turned out to be in poor supply. “So much for Fran.”

  Natalie said, “Let’s hide behind those big tanks. Maybe they won’t look too hard.” Caleb pointed at the floor beneath her feet. She looked down. There was water pooled everywhere, with a path that led back toward the big tank. She said, “Oh.”

  Caleb said, “Best we can do is stand on either side of the door and grab’em as they come in.”

  With no better option, they split up on either side of the door, with Spruck and Caleb closest. The room was so loud that they couldn’t hear anything outside. They were forced to stand still, muscles spring-loaded.

  After a further interminable amount of time, the door started to open, but only slightly. Just as Caleb, with fist bundled, was about to grab the handle and swing it wide, Pat487 and Hee Sook said in unison, “Wait!”

  Pat487 pushed past Caleb and gently opened the door. Standing on the other side was Fran, a big industrial robot, wearing dirty yellow coveralls. She held a can of spray paint in one hand, telltale black on the tip of the trigger finger. She said, “Hello. I am Fran. I am here to escort you.”

  Caleb looked out into the corridor and saw the two pirates crumpled on the floor, their faces painted black. Given the black mess on the ceiling, she’d clearly used the spray to wreck the cameras. He nodded his approval as he waved his friends out into the corridor. He patted Fran on the shoulder. “Like it. Old school.”

  Natalie said, “Damn, girl, you a badass.”

  Realizing that she still held the can, Fran dropped it next to the unconscious men and pushed the elevator button. While they waited, she expertly trussed up the two pirates with some cord she pulled from a pocket. The humans couldn’t help feeling a sense of shock while watching her. Though they were now well steeped in the concept of sentient robots breaking the Prime Directive, it remained extremely unsettling to observe. Caleb and Natalie picked up the pirate’s two short assault weapons. Spruck and Jennifer went for their disruptors.

  As Fran finished, she said, “You will discover that all personal weapons on this base are made to work exclusively with their owners.”

  They looked down at the guns in their hands with dismay.

  Fran continued, “However, I agree that it is best to remove them from their proximity.” She smiled, trying to give reassurance while expressing urgency. “It is my calculation that the window of opportunity to reach the disappearing ship is nearly closed. It will somewhat depend on whether there are more persons in this now arriving elevator. Please be prepared to defend yourselves. We will not of course be using this elevator, rather we will use the stairs.”

  Caleb said, “Then why even—“

  Fran cut him off, putting her finger to her lips. “Stay focused please.”

  Caleb hefted the guns like clubs, ready for whoever might come out of the elevator. The doors opened to an empty car.

  Hee Sook said, “The odds favor us.”

  Fran dragged the two unconscious men into the car and pushed the down button. She stepped back into the corridor. “Follow me, please.”

  As they hustled behind Fran, Caleb said to Hee Sook, “Why d'you say it like that?”

  “What?”

  “Something weird, like the odds favor us. Can’t you just say, we’re in luck?”

  Jennifer said to Caleb, “Really? Now you got one of your itches?”

  They were headed toward an exit sign. Hee Sook responded, “I’m not sure I understand the nature of your question. The two cliches are identical in meaning, even using a wagering vernacular to make the point.”

  “Because it makes you sound like some Oriental fortune teller.”

  Jennifer said over her shoulder, “Caleb, stop.”

  “What?”

  Fran went through the door, looked up and down the stairs and waved them through.

  Hee Sook continued while walking up, “Interesting. I think I like that, especially with the geographical distinction. My records inform me that in the American culture from which you come, the term Oriental has held several meanings; from a simple geographical definition, as in Oriental is the East and Occidental is the West, which is curious because Earth is a globe, to a descriptive of people who have origins in the East. Over time, because of its distinctive ability to make a person who is a native born American seem as though they were foreign, it became a slur.” She glanced back at him. “Fear not, Caleb Day, I do not feel as though you are referring to me with a slur. As I understand it today, in the Saturn System, the term Oriental carries with it a certain exotic nature. Therefore, as I am physically fashioned to appear as an Eastern person, Oriental fortune teller has a pleasing tone to me, and neatly conjoins with an aspect of my history which I would enjoy sharing at another time.”

  The rest were walking as quietly as they could. Natalie said, “Ok, you two, shut up now.”

  As they continued, Fran whispered, “I remind you that the gravitational effect will grow less and less as we approach the core and the landing zone. You will find proper hand holds as we get closer.”

  The stairs started out naturally enough, but as they went further up, each person noted a lighter and lighter weight to their step, until finally they almost couldn’t use their weight to keep themselves on the steps at all. Just as Fran described, the steps came to a stop and were replaced by handholds so they could pull themselves forward. Even for people who were used to going back and forth between gravity and none, it was briefly disorienting to be walking upstairs and then bending forward to pull oneself through a corridor. It was a bit like stepping into a pool, then at the point of buoyancy, pushing off to go swimming.

  Fran said, “If, as seems probable, I become incapacitated, you will find the ship known as The Princess Belle, docked at the second bay to your left. Per Pat487’s request, I prepped the entry tunnels to all the manned ships by disabling the security feeds. I broke the connections in the least conspicuous places I could find, which should allow for a durable period of undetected movement before they can make repairs. That said, logic dictates that broken feeds will bring additional personnel to the area to patrol. The airlock to your ship is open, so you should have littl
e trouble entering. My apologies for my not risking an attempt at an engine prep. You will have to steel yourselves against whatever delay your ship requires for warm up.”

  Caleb whispered to Hee Sook, “Sheesh, even industrials can’t cut to the chase.”

  Hee Sook scowled. “Your attempt at humor, though understandable, given how stress seeks relief in the human animal, is not appreciated at this moment, Caleb Day. Our friend here has risked everything for our welfare.”

  Natalie said, “Preach, girl.”

  Fran opened the door and bounce-floated out. To her right, no more than three-meters away, were two armed pirates. She smiled and casually closed the door in the others faces, concealing them from view. She then expertly allowed her magnetic boots to touch the floor to stabilize herself.

  The pirates were men, and like their comrades, they augmented their elastoware with garish colors and individual bobbles and bits of cloth. “What’s your mission?” asked one.

  Fran said, “I was tasked with searching this stairwell for rogue humanoid assistants. I can report that it is clear.”

  One cupped his hand to his ear and nodded as he was informed of something. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder and said to Fran, “Two of our friends just got found tied up in the elevator. Gots to check this stairwell again.” He and his partner drew their weapons and pushed past Fran. As they got to the door, she reached up to a handhold on the ceiling and used it to stabilize herself as she brought her feet down on their backs, driving them with grunts toward the floor. She pushed herself down to land with her knees on their backs and delivered two vicious blows to their heads, knocking them cold.

  She opened the door and waved everyone out. “Quickly, please.”

  As the humans moved past the pirates, they noted the state of the men with a mix of relief and alarm.

  Fran pointed down the hall, “That way, please.”

  It took only moments to get to The Belle. Having dragged the unconscious pirates into the entry hall leading to the airlock, Fran stood vigil. She could hear voices in the communicators in the unconscious men’s ears, which grew in volume and pitch as the pirates didn’t respond.