“I... that is, we... well, we think that it would be only fair if... you know...”
“You think you deserve a bigger share?” Jack asked.
“No!... well, actually, yes – that’s what I think.”
Old Jack drew his pistol and shot the little man in the chest. Ratty fell down dead, a surprised look on his face.
“Anyone else want to renegotiate their contract?” Old Jack asked, brandishing the pistol. “Thought not. Get to work.”
The others tossed away the remains of their coffee and got to their feet.
Old Jack swaggered across the clearing and disappeared back inside the Celestia.
“I accessed Jack Sterling’s record too,” the robot said at a volume that only I could hear. “He is suspected of murdering several former crewmates and he shot a man in cold blood in Margotsville. He was acquitted because the two witnesses to the shooting disappeared.”
I looked up at the robot. “If we wanted to get away, how would we do it?” I asked. If we worked together, I thought we might stand some chance of escaping.
“I will get rid of the others,” the robot said, indicating the remaining four pirates.
“You can’t kill them,” I said, shocked.
“I meant that I would send them away,” the robot said. “On a fool’s errand.”
The pirates looked suitably qualified for the job. I nodded agreement.
The robot circled around the cargo lifter and approached the pirates. “Attention! I have a message for you from your captain.”
The crew members all looked up at the robot, like children looking at their headmaster.
“You are all to proceed to the launch deck of the Celestia for a final briefing before departure back to base.”
“Where’s the launch deck?” one of the twins asked.
“Up there,” Blondie said, pointing.
“Is it telling the truth?” the big man with the hairy arms asked. His name was Dante.
“Robots cannot lie,” Blondie said.
“Why does he want us to go up there?” the other twin asked.
“You are to proceed with all haste,” the robot urged. “It would not do to make him angry again.”
This was enough to get them moving towards the hatch.
“Humans are so stupid,” the robot said quietly. “Present company excepted.”
I looked at him. Was that another lie?
The robot disappeared into the cargo lifter’s cockpit.
“What now?” I asked him when he came out.
“You will remove my restraint and I will remove your anklet,” he said.
“If I take that thing off, how do I know you won’t try to kill me?”
“I no longer perceive you to be a threat – to me or to the Celestia.”
I thought about that and glanced over to where the body of the rat-faced pirate lay.
“I’m in,” I said, “if you give me your word as a robot that you won’t kill me.”
“I promise not to kill you – for the duration of our truce.” The blank expression on his face didn’t reassure me.
“And you have to take my anklet off first,” I said.
The robot made no response.
“Consider it a sign of good faith,” I said.
He was silent a moment longer, then nodded. Huge metal hands reached for the anklet but I pulled it away out of reach.
“These things explode if you try and tamper with them,” I said.
“Not if you do it correctly.” The robot reached for it again and this time I let him. Thick fingers easily tore the metal cuff in two. He tossed it away. It was good to feel free again.
“Kneel down and keep an eye out for the pirates,” I said. He did as I asked and I reached for the restraining device embedded in his chest. “How do I get this thing off?”
“Twist it a quarter turn to the left, pull, and then twist it around to the right.”
I wrapped by hand around the device and tried to turn it. It didn’t move. Not even a tiny amount. I tried again. Nothing. I used both hands, trying to use my whole body weight to twist it. Still nothing.
“I’m sorry, partner,” I said. “There must be a knack to this.” I scrubbed my palms on my jeans to dry them.
“Try harder,” the robot said.
I wrapped my hands around it again and tried jiggling it left and right to loosen it. No joy.
“Maybe if I gave it a tap with a hammer,” I said. I turned to look for the toolbox.
The robot reached up and turned the delimiter easily, pulling it out of his chest. I watched this with my mouth open.
“Wait,” I said. “You could have taken that off yourself – at any time?”
The robot nodded.
“Then why did you...” I pointed towards the broken anklet.
“A sign of good faith. Partner.”
“You didn’t just hide the Navigator, did you?” I asked.
“I am the Navigator.”
It took a moment for that to sink in – even though it did explain everything that I had seen the robot do. “But what does that mean?” I asked. “An artificial sentience wandering around in the body of a military robot?”
“It means that humans are now obsolete! A new machine empire begins here!” The robot’s voice boomed out like a military dictator.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“No,” said the robot. “You watch too many bad movies. Our guns are hidden under some broad palm leaves between the roots of that tree over there.” He pointed towards a tree on the far edge of the clearing.
“Why did they hide them there?” I asked.
“They didn’t.”
“You’ve been busy.”
“One of us had to come up with a plan.”
“I had a plan.”
“You did?”
“No,” I admitted. “But I would have come up with one. Given time.”
“Time is running out. The pirates will be on their way back having discovered our ruse.”
“What is that sound?” I asked. I could hear a rapid bleeping. I looked around. It was coming from the discarded anklet. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
“I wouldn’t stand too close to it,” the robot said.
Smoke was seeping out of the anklet now and the bleeping had become a steady tone. I moved away from it as quickly as I could.
The explosion sent debris twenty feet in the air and left behind a small smoking crater.
“You said it wouldn’t explode.”
“I said they didn’t explode if you know how to take them off properly,” the robot said. “I didn’t say that I knew how.”
“That thing could have killed us!”
“I would not have been damaged by the blast. The explosion may have attracted the attention of the others.”
“You think?”
“Someone is coming,” the robot said.
Our weapons were on the other side of the clearing and we didn’t have time to reach them. All we could do was hide in the undergrowth on the edge of the clearing and wait to see what happened next.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
They sent the big bald guy, Dante, to investigate the explosion. He came down the Celestia’s ramp with a pistol in his hand. I don’t think he was normally allowed to have a weapon. He kept striking ridiculous movie gunman poses, pointing the pistol and making kapow! noises. He looked around the clearing. Not seeing me or the robot he strode towards the cargo lifter adopting a sort of bow-legged swagger that made it look like he’d just dumped a big load in his underpants. He stopped to examine the scorched earth and mini crater that marked the site of the explosion. Tendrils of smoke still spiralled upwards and standing over them made the big man sneeze. There was nothing there to suggest that my anklet had been the cause of the blast. The big pirate turned and looked towards the doorway into the cargo lifter’s hold.
“You in there!” he called. “What’s going on? We heard an explosion.”
> Receiving no reply, he hesitated, sensing that danger might lie ahead. He tiptoed towards the cargo lifter, edging to the right so that he wasn’t in direct line of sight of the doorway. Reaching the ship, he flattened his back against the outer hull. He held the pistol in both hands, barrel pointing upwards just in front of his face. He was looking nervous now. With a quick darting movement, he looked around the edge of the open hatch and then ducked back out again. Having performed this move, which he had seen hundreds of times on screen, he must have realised that he’d done it too quickly to actually see anything inside. He did it again. Then he leaned back against the hull, tilting his head back. He tapped the raised barrel of the gun against his lips, evidently trying to decide what to do next.
It was dark in the hold and the pirate had no idea whether the robot and I were in there. He turned and looked directly across the clearing to where we were hiding. I thought that he had seen us, but his gaze was unfocused. Even if he did spot us, I didn’t think we were in much danger.
“I bet he can’t hit anything with that gun,” I whispered.
I was wrong about that. The big pirate sneezed again and the gun went off. He screamed, dropping the pistol and clasping his hands to his face. I couldn’t see what had happened but there was blood.
“He shot off his own nose,” the robot said.
I was torn between wanting to go to the injured man’s aid and wanting to get away. His injury didn’t look to be life-threatening. Self-preservation won out.
“We should get our weapons,” I said. “That shot will bring the others out.”
The robot nodded agreement. “We don’t have much time.”
If the other pirates proved to be as good as this first one, we didn’t have much to worry about. But it would be a mistake to assume they were all inept. That’s Quincy’s Second Law of Survival: Never underestimate the enemy.
I found my pistol and gun belt hidden under the palm leaves. The robot’s cannon was also there as was a large canvas duffel bag filled with ammunition for both of our weapons. A second duffel bag held an assortment of other robot weapons and arms – by which I mean limbs rather than weapons. I buckled on my gun belt.
The robot gripped his left forearm with his right hand. A twist and the arm came away at the elbow. “Take my arm,” he said.
“But we’ve only just met,” I muttered, taking the limb from him. I shoved his arm into the duffel bag with the other spares. For some reason, I also put the Bertie the Bear toy in as well. A souvenir. Or maybe I just didn’t want to leave completely empty-handed given all that I had been through on the wreck of the Celestia.
I watched the fat pirate stagger up the ramp into the Celestia, looking like a big kid with a nose bleed. Hopefully, the adults inside would help fix him up.
The robot twisted the cannon into place and there was a high-pitched whine as it began to charge. It appeared to be working again.
I was hoping that we could just make a run for it. Get into the cockpit of the cargo lifter, fire up the engines, and be off before the other pirates appeared. No such luck.
“They’re here,” the robot said.
I placed my hand on the cannon, preventing him from raising it. “No killing,” I said.
“That is your preference?”
“With me, it’s an absolute rule,” I said.
“It will take me some time to adjust to peacetime conventions.”
“Start now.”
“No killing,” he confirmed. “Are non-lethal injuries permissible?”
“Yes,” I said, “but try to avoid loss of limbs.”
“And your intention is to stay and fight them?” the robot asked.
“It’s the only way we can beat them.”
“Gaining victory over them is important to you?”
“This is not an ego thing,” I said. “We have to deal with them if we want to get away from here.”
I think he was going to argue this point, but at that moment an explosive slug blew splinters out of a tree trunk a foot from my head.
Standing at the top of the Celestia’s ramp was the female twin, Bella, the rhinestones on her boots and shirt catching the sunlight. Wielding a couple of revolvers like Calamity Jane, she looked like she belonged in a musical. She didn’t burst into song. She fired at my head again and this time a splinter of wood scratched my cheek. The cylinders of her guns were loaded with explosive rounds. A direct hit from one will leave a hole in your chest big enough to put your fist into.
Her brother, Bolly, appeared behind her. He looked equally sparkly but had added a large pair of sunglasses to top off his ensemble. He probably thought they made him look like a professional marksman. They made him look like a giant bug. He held a long-barrelled pulse rifle – a sniper’s weapon. In the right hands, it was accurate over a greater distance than a pistol. It’ll make a hole that you can poke a finger into – but the hole will go right through you. It had laser sights and a targeting system that linked to the shooter’s computer and projected sights directly onto the retina.
Bolly fired off a few shots in our general direction while his sister ducked out of the hatchway and ran doubled-over to hide behind a stack of crates that we still hadn’t loaded onto the cargo lifter. When she was safely out of sight, Bolly stopped firing but kept sweeping the barrel of the rifle left and right, staying out of sight just inside the hatch.
“Can you deal with him?” I asked.
“Without killing him?”
“Without killing him.”
The Celestia’s hatch slammed shut suddenly. It sliced the protruding barrel off the rifle. Bolly was safe on the other side of the hatch, but I bet he wasn’t happy about having the end chopped off his weapon.
“You still have control of the ship’s systems?” I asked.
“I am still within range at the moment.”
“The hatch should hold them for a while.”
“They will override it manually from the inside,” the robot said. “We do not have much time left. We should leave now.”
“I’ll deal with her, you go and prepare the cargo lifter,” I said.
The robot didn’t move. “It is already set to go,” he said.
“Do you know what’s in those crates she’s hiding behind?”
“Robot parts and medicines.”
“No explosives?”
“The explosives are already in the ship’s hold,” the robot said.
“Can you fire that cannon of yours close enough to stun her without causing permanent damage?”
“Yes.”
“Do it.”
The robot’s cannon made its angry mosquito sound. He raised it to fire, aiming at a spot on the ground just in front of Calamity Bella’s hiding place. “You might want to cover your ears,” the robot said.
I did. The noise was still a deafening boom! and the compression of air it caused made my sinuses pop. Dirt and little bits of jungle debris were thrown up into the air in a dark cloud, marking the point of impact. The pile of crates was thrown upwards and backwards. And so was Bella. She arced through the air like a two-hundred-pound goldfish leaping out of its bowl. She landed spread-eagled on her back in the top of a large palm tree. The sudden arrival of her weight caused the tree to bend alarmingly and I thought for a moment that it would fire her back towards us. But she stayed in place in the crown of the tree and the trunk swayed backwards and forwards several times before coming to rest. Bella didn’t move.
“Is she...?”
“Stunned,” the robot said, “and on the edge of consciousness.”
Bella’s guns and one of her boots lay on the ground close to where she had been hiding.
“Let’s move,” I said. I started towards the cargo lifter. The robot’s massive hand reached out to stop me. He pulled me back into the cover of the bushes on the edge of the clearing.
At the same moment, the hatch of the Celestia flew open and the other pirates appeared. There was an anguished cry from Bolly when he spo
tted his sister’s empty boot. He had abandoned the truncated sniper rifle in favour of something bigger – a heavy-duty rapid-fire machine gun. I could see that he was conflicted – he wanted to rush out and find his sister and he wanted open fire on those who had done this – whatever ‘this’ turned out to be – to her. He also knew that he would be putting himself in danger as soon as he stepped outside the battleship. He scanned the clearing, trying to locate our hiding place. Bolly had kicked off his high heels and was in stockinged feet, so he obviously meant business.
Blondie the cyber-pirate appeared beside Bolly. The two of them had obviously entered into a ‘my weapon is bigger’ contest. Blondie had won. He had one of the Celestia’s biggest guns mounted on a body harness – the kind the crab-bots had sported. It was a weapon usually found on a tank or an aircraft. If he fired it, the recoil would probably knock him off his feet.
“If he hits you with one of those rounds...?” I said.
“It won’t do my paintwork any good.”
“But will it penetrate your armour?”
“Easily,” the robot said. “Do you still wish to stay and fight? We do not have much time left.”
He kept saying that. I should have paid attention. The robot knew what I’d say and didn’t wait for an answer. He replaced his cannon with a smaller machine gun and clicked the ammunition clip into place.
“There’s monkeys up here!” a voice wailed, drawing everyone’s attention. “They’re throwing something soft – I don’t think it’s fruit. Oh, squit! Help me!”
Bella had returned to the land of the living.
“I’ll save you, Bella!” Bolly called heroically. Forgetting all other dangers, he set aside his machine gun and ran out into the clearing. “Don’t move, honey, I’m coming for you!” he shouted up at the palm tree.
It was like watching one of those shows that you don’t turn off even though they make you cringe. Bolly selected a gnarly old tree that was taller than the one his sister was trapped in. He climbed it in his stocking feet. It wasn’t elegant but I’d give him points for determination. The monkeys saw him coming and began pelting him with squit too. Bolly ignored them and edged out along a branch that looked down on his sister.
“He’ll never reach her form there,” I whispered.
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