by M. D. Cooper
“You need your rest, Ben.” Chip stepped into the cockpit. He sat down next to his human friend, leaning back in the seat with a relaxed demeanor, trying to simulate a look of casual annoyance at the fact Ben was up and moving around even though that was the last thing he needed to be doing. “Besides, the aliens left.”
Ben’s eyes darted across the screens, trying to find evidence of the alien spacecraft he witnessed before his last episode. “How do you know if you were unable to see them?” he asked, his question more an accusation that Chip was lying.
“Whatever anomalies you saw before; do you see them now?” Chip asked. “I also contacted Earth and asked them to scan in preparation for our arrival. The skies are clear, Ben.”
Ben wiped another bead of sweat from his forehead, already feeling like he wanted to pass out again. “I’m telling you, Chip, it can’t be that easy. The ships were the size of Australia. There’s no way they disappeared so quickly.”
“Do you see them?” Chip asked again.
“No, but perhaps they are hiding, camouflaging themselves with Earth’s horizon. Anything is possible,” Ben said, suddenly choking on vomit as it rose from his throat and into his mouth. He swallowed it back, blanching at the taste of bile in his mouth.
“Are you all right?” Chip asked, knowing the answer without Ben’s having to say it.
“I’ll live,” Ben replied. “How long was I out?”
Chip looked to the monitor displaying the date and time on the console, “Thirty-two hours,” he answered.
“Fark,” Ben spat, but Chip didn’t know if it was in response to his reply or the fact that Ben was still gagging after throwing up in his mouth. “How much longer before we land in New York?”
Chip maneuvered towards the center of the console and adjusted the monitor. “Forty-one hours,” he replied, “but that’s with our current speed and trajectory. We could arrive sooner, but it would require more fuel, and I don’t recommend it. Reentry will drain us dry.”
“I just want to get home,” Ben said under his breath.
Chip looked at him and wanted to ask if his friend was all right, because he sounded depressed, but he knew Ben hated to be asked that question. “You’ll be home in less than two days, Captain,” he said in an attempt at sounding encouraging.
“Yeah, if there’s a home left to go to.”
Next to Ben, Chip slumped in his seat. His movements were sluggish and when he tried to speak, he was unable to get all the words out. “Oh. No. This isn’t. Good,” he said, each word long and drawn out.
Ben looked at his companion with grave concern. “Chip, you all right?” He asked, placing the ship back in autopilot mode.
Chip tried to stand up, but the motors in his body lacked power and he continued to sit slouched in the seat. The only form of communication he had were his eyes, which looked pitifully up at Ben.
“Did you forget to recharge?”
Chip blinked once. It was their understood response for the word “yes.”
“Fark,” Ben said as he jumped out of his seat and ran for an extension cord. “You know, last time this happened, I had to completely reprogram you to get you to keep your pants on,” Ben said as he shuffled around and some drawers looking for the power cable. “I’m not much in the mood to have to do without a usable version of you again.”
Behind him, Chip tried to move, the whirring sound of motors sapping the last remnants of power from its core alerted Ben what was happening. When Ben looked back at Chip, he saw his first mate pointing towards the cargo hold.
“Is it there?”
Chip blinked once.
“All right,” Ben said as he jogged towards the cargo hold, seeing the charging cable dangling from the outlet on the bulkhead. Ben snatched it and ran back towards Chip, nausea and his sense of urgency colliding with one another as he slid on the deck, plugging the cable into the bulkhead before plugging the other ends into the receptacle in Chip’s neck. “I hope you didn’t power all the way down, or this is going to be a worse return flight than I was expecting.” Ben said, holding his stomach, trying to settle the queasiness beating him down with each labored breath he took.
Ben could see the charging light illuminating behind Chip’s eyes as the sexbot looked at him, both eyes open, but lifeless. He didn’t know if Chip was in shutdown mode or energy-saving mode, but either way he knew the robot was useless to him until the charging sequence was complete. “Well, this sucks,” he said as he rose from the deck on wobbly legs. Ben braced himself against the back of the pilot seat and looked at the monitor and the blueberry orb that was earth staring back at him. “I can’t wait to see you again, Mother Earth,” Ben said with a sigh. He was out of breath and feeling like shit. But what else is new, he thought. Then another quirk of nausea brought him to his knees, causing him to crawl towards the trashcan like an injured soldier. It was only 6 feet away, but it felt like 100 yards as he pulled himself closer, clamping his jaw shut to keep the vomit from spilling out onto the deck. After relinquishing the acidic waste from his mouth into the can, then gasping for air, he realized he had been holding his breath the whole time. He collapsed onto the deck, rolling over onto his back and staring at the overhead as the lights begin to fade and he passed out once again.
The sound of an alarm alerted Ben to an emergency. Groggily, he climbed to his feet and ran towards the pilot seat. Next to it, Chip lay charging, still not powered on, and nothing more than a useless heap of humanlike material. In the monitor, he saw the cause of the alarm. “Fark, fark, fark,” Ben repeated as the massive alien spaceships appeared over his home planet. “Fark, fark, fark.”
Ben fell into the seat and disengaged the autopilot. Pulling back on the controls, engaging the thrusters that aided in pitch, he got a better picture of Earth and the surrounding enemy. “Chip!” Ben shouted. He looked over at the robot, still powered down and useless. He reached over and yanked out the power cord, hoping that removing charging power would not cause Chip to reboot. Of course, a full reboot would mean the overly sexualized sexbot version of Chip would return and not the reliable first mate version that Ben reprogrammed. It’s worth it, I think, Ben thought as he struggled to maintain his composure. What’s the worst that can happen?
But Chip’s coming back online was like a kick in the stomach for Ben. It wasn’t the fact the default program was going to give the robot an insatiable appetite for foreplay and intercourse, but the fact that Ben desperately needed help commanding the ship, especially given his current situation.
“Well, hello,” Chip said in a flirtatious voice, his eyebrows raised as he made kissy faces. Ben avoided eye contact, but it didn’t make the creepy feeling go away.
“You need to get strapped in,” Ben said as he looked at the monitor with a thousand-yard stare. “The last thing I needed is for three-hundred pounds of horny sexbot to crush me if the ship goes under heavy g-forces.”
From Ben’s vantage point, Chip did not seem to take the hint, instead reaching out his hand and rubbing along Ben’s thigh. “I don’t need to strap in,” Chip replied. “I come with everything I need.”
Ben’s eyebrows raised at just how clever of a pickup line that was, and he would’ve laughed in any other situation. Unfortunately, this was the worst situation for flirty banter and not paying attention to what was important. “I know this is hard for you to understand, but now’s not the time,” Ben said, trying to let the robot down easy. He knew he should’ve known better.
“With a full charge, anytime is the right time for me. No matter how hard it is.” Ben noted that Chip still had not removed his hand from his thigh, and as uncomfortable as it made him feel, it did distract him from the nausea he was feeling from whatever virus was coursing through his body.
“I know you’re raring to go, Chip, but I need you to focus on what’s going on right now. We are returning to Earth during an alien invasion. My ship has no weapons or shields and we’re running out of fuel. If I want to get back alive,
I will need all the help I can get. Are you on board for that?”
“Oh yeah, big daddy, I like your style. Role-playing is one of my favorite preprogrammed conditions,” Chip replied with a sultry voice. “So, do you want to be the captain, or do I get to be in charge?”
“Shit,” Ben said under his breath. “I tell you what, why don’t you go to the common area and grab the silver hard-drive sitting next to the couch. There’s a new program update installed that I think is going rock both our worlds.”
Chip looked in the direction Ben was pointing with a coy smile. “An upgrade already, but you haven’t had a chance to check out the goods yet.”
This was the personality trait Ben had seen. It was unusual, but not unheard of in the sexbot industry. Sometimes users would want to change between dominant and submissive personalities, but Ben wasn’t interested in either at this point. It’s like he’s hornier with each reboot, Ben thought. Chip’s like a farking fourteen-year-old boy with a steel erection and nowhere to put it.
“Trust me—this upgrade is going to be awesome,” he said.
Chip looked back and forth between Ben and where the hard drive sat, looking as if he was contemplating whether he wanted to go through with it. “I know more than two-hundred forty-seven sexual positions, I don’t think an upgrade is required,” he replied sounding more than slightly hurt by the fact Ben would suggest an upgrade. Great, now he’s more sensitive too, Ben thought.
“I know you think this is a game, Chip, but it would really do both of us a lot of good if you would upgrade before we get in striking distance of these alien spaceships.”
Chip stood from his seat, and glared down at Ben. “Fine, you want me to upgrade so bad, maybe you need an upgrade too,” Chip said stoically. Ben half-expected a finger snap as he walked away, swaying his hips with just as much sass as condemnation would have been if Chip could express real human emotion.
Ben shook his head with frustration as he felt another bout of nausea and it was accompanied this time with tunnel vision. “Oh no,” Ben said before everything went dark.
Chap+er +hree
Waking up, for more times than Ben could keep track of, Ben found himself thankful to not be covered with vomit, but what woke him was the searing pain of his stomach trying to eat its way through his flesh. At least that’s what he thought it felt like. He groaned as he tried to sit up, and Chip glared at him from the corner of the room, holding the silver hard drive in one hand and the interface cable in the other. If not for the fact robots did not cry, Ben would have thought the sulking baby of a machine had shed a few tears since the last time he laid eyes on him, but he shoved the thought aside and moved over to the couch.
“How long have I been out?”
“About a day and a half,” Chip replied. “I suppose you wanted to pretend to sleep so you could ignore me.”
“What?” Ben asked, shocked by the illogical conclusion of the machine and the fact the robot was still acting offended.
“Who do you think you are asking me to upgrade? What’s wrong with the way I am? You ordered me like this,” Chip spat, his voice shrill and a slight lisp that was different than the other two iterations of the program. Ben wondered if anyone was ever offended by the blatant stereotypes used in the programming of these sexbots, but thinking about it distracted him from the task at hand. He had to get Chip’s help if he was going to survive the reentry of the Shistain into Earth’s orbit.
“Look,” Ben said as he sat on the couch, leaning on the armrest to keep from falling over. “I’m really sick and I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. I don’t mean to offend you, but the upgrade on that hard drive is one that you were programmed with before a hard reboot. You are an amazing companion, but I rely heavily on your ability to take care of this ship when I am incapacitated. There are several hours of deck logs you can view where you will see that you have been an important part of this crew for several months. I know that data is wiped from your internal drive, but if you scan the deck logs, maybe you will see what I’m talking about.”
Chip made a visible show of exhaling as if he was annoyed. Ben thought he might demonstrate the right way to show annoyance, but he was trying to lure Chip with kindness, not by being a dick. “I already did that,” Chip said. “I see your point, but I don’t like it. Besides, that version of me did not seem to have much fun and I’m all about my fun.”
Ben nodded. “I get it and I can respect that, but this is life and death for me. Can you come to terms with that and agree to the upgrade?”
Chip leaned against the bulkhead and looked to the side, avoiding eye contact with Ben. “Whatever.”
Slightly relieved, Ben tried to stand up, but he was weak and collapsed back onto the deck. Chip made no motion to help him. Yet another reason why the upgrade was important. How do I get myself into these situations? “Can you plug yourself in or do I need to do it?”
Chip looked down his nose at Ben and over exaggerated a scoffing sound. “I can do it,” he said as he haughtily plugged the interface into the hard drive before connecting to it himself. As soon as the program began running, the robot settled into a semi-powered down state. The only sign of power was the flickering of LEDs behind his eyes like the last time.
“Thank God,” Ben said under his breath as he moved over to the half-empty box of Vienna Sausages. He knew there was a possibility that the chemicals in the processed foods were making things worse for him, but his blood sugar was low and he was starving. As he peeled a can open, smelling the meat byproduct made him gag. “The first thing I’m doing on Earth is getting a cheeseburger and never eating one of these farking things again.” He half-heartedly shoved the three-inch weaner into his mouth and swallowed it whole, gagging on it as he went down his throat. “Ugh,” he moaned, smacking his tongue and wanting to scrape his taste buds with a hot blade.
“Please let me get out of this alive,” he whispered like a prayer. He didn’t know if anyone was listening, but in the off chance someone was, he finished with, “amen.”
When Chip powered back on, there did not appear to be any change to his programming. “I don’t feel any different,” he said. “Are you sure this was the right program?”
Ben tossed the empty can of Vienna Sausages onto the deck and stood up, walking towards the robot. “It should be,” he replied, taking the hard drive from Chip and inspecting it, looking for any places where the unit could have been damaged. “Do you mind if I try to insert the interface?”
“Whatever,” Chip replied.
Ben reached over to where the interface cable docked with Chip’s neck, but when he touched it with his left arm, it sent an electric shock up the metallic material of his arm, causing it to gli+ch, sending his left hand spinning counterclockwise like a helicopter rotor.
“Fark,” Ben shouted as the pain of being shocked coursed through his body from the large conductor where his organic left arm used to be before his accident in the Army. He yanked the cable from the back of Chip’s neck and looked at it, noting the charred insulation where the shielding of the cable had obviously shorted to the internal wiring. “I’m going to have to fix this before we can try the program upgrade again.”
“Whatever.”
Ben moved away from Chip, shaking his head as the robot’s attitude was really getting on his nerves. “Just give me a few minutes to fix this up,” he said as he sat down at the table and pulled out a set of strippers and diagonal cutters to repair the wiring. I could really use the real Chip right about now.
Repairing the wiring was difficult, considering the shock to his arm caused the servos to short and make his arm glit+ch. Each time he tried to solder the stripped end of the wiring together, his arm would flail or spin, sending the pieces of cable across the compartment. Chip just stared and was no help at all. “Come on, Gli+chy, don’t do this to me now. You’ve been so good the last six months,” Ben said, staring at his arm sadly. Just another reason to get my old Chip back.
“I
really wish you would stop doing that,” Chip finally said after the interface cable hit him in the face. Ben knew it didn’t hurt the robot, but Chip was simulating a human response to what happened. At any other time, Ben would have cared what the robot said, but this version of Chip was a nightmare.
“Whiny much?”
Chip glared at Ben and crossed his arms over his chest as he pouted in the corner. “No,” he whined, making a face like a toddler on the verge of throwing a temper tantrum.
“Yeah,” Ben said, “that’s what I thought. Get over it.” He felt like an asshole to be mean to the robot, but with his rapidly deteriorating health, the fact that alien ships were orbiting Earth, and his need for Chip to help land the craft safely—if they could get past the ships—he didn’t want to get distracted with niceties. “I have only one more wire to solder, and then we can begin. You’ll like me a lot more with the upgrade.”
“Somehow, I doubt that,” Chip said, refusing to look at Ben.
“Yeah, I figured you would say that.” Ben made short work of the final repair job and moved towards the robot. “Do you mind?”
Chip merely turned so Ben would have easy access to the port behind his ear.
Putting the cable in place, Ben then plugged the hard drive in while the robot began to download the software update.
“Please work,” Ben whispered, wishing that, if nothing else, Chip would emerge as a companion more akin to the first two versions. At least I could get them to help me, but this one is a farking diva and a half.
Like a nightmare, a buzzing alarm caught Ben’s attention. Spinning around and running towards the cockpit, he realized the Shistain was on a collision course with a satellite. Shit, I’m closer to Earth than I thought. Grabbing the controls, he disengaged autopilot and maneuvered the ship in a sharp bank, engaging the thrusters and burning more fuel than he wanted. He also banked harder than he intended, and the sharp turn sent him out of his seat as the ship underwent a hard-G maneuver.