Raw Justice

by Martyn J. Pass

  “That won't be possible,” I said. I turned to Mason. “Maybe we should try Franko's?”

  “Now hold on,” cried Patrick. “I never said we couldn't come to an arrangement of some sort. No need to go to the competition, eh guys? I can see you want this ship but-”

  “How much is it going to cost to have her ready by tomorrow?” said Mason.

  “Cost isn't the issue, fellas, it-”

  “How much?”

  He was sweating now and I felt a sudden pleasure. If he was a member of the O'Shea family then his suffering might go a small way towards paying off their debt to my dead spine. He began working his wrist control, sending messages back and forth to what I assumed would be the space yard above us. Some engineer was probably being chewed out right about now.

  “I've spoken to the team,” he stammered. “But he's saying that it would take several work crews to pull this off.”

  “How much?” I said again.

  “On top of the quote I'm about to give you...” He paused. Looked down. “Two-fifty.”

  I laughed and so did Mason. Patrick laughed, albeit with a nervous tremor.

  “Too high, right?” he said, probably seeing his commission vanishing down the drain. I looked at my own wrist unit and saw Alice's message waiting for me.

  YOU'LL BE THE DEATH OF ME. JUST BUY IT.

  “Looks like you've got yourself a deal,” I said and held out my hand. “Now let's talk 'extras'.”

  We left Vertigo Flyers & Light Craft just as the rain stopped and we hailed a cab to take us westward to our next destination. When we got in, Mason turned and held up his own wrist unit for me to see.

  “My new friend Sharky is going to the space-yard to fit the weapon systems,” he said. “Look at those specs.”

  I did. Forward plasma lances and several broadside cannon – nowhere near the output of the Helios but sharp enough teeth in case we came under attack.

  “He says he will have to wire them into the FARGO units because at the speeds we'll be traveling no human could calculate the firing patterns in time.”

  “Do it,” I said. “I hope we won't need them but I'll be happier having them on board. After what we've been through it's taking all my willpower not to buy a battlecruiser. But I do find it amazing how quickly people will move when you throw money at them.”

  “Ain't that the truth? I've known Sharky for all of ten minutes and he's already behaving like we're old friends. Money really does have a language of its own.”

  We sat there in silence for a time and watched the city of Setti pass us by. I tried not to think about Angel but it was becoming increasingly more difficult. Would I have felt that way about Baz had the roles been different? Maybe. He was like a son to me in one way or another. A downright irritating disappointment of a son. A child I kind of wished hadn't made it to the egg over all those other-

  “Look at that,” said Mason, breaking and entering my train of thought. I turned to look out of his window and at first, I couldn't quite understand what he was seeing. Maybe I didn't want to see it. But I did and the moment understanding dawned on me I pressed the STOP paddle on the control panel of the taxi and climbed out.

  “I'm not seeing things, am I?” I said to Mason. He shook his head.

  “It's him.”

  “How the hell did he get here? And why is he trying to thumb a ride?

  From where he stood on the corner of the street, Thor, the robot on board the Helios with questionable self-awareness, held out one of his enormous robotic limbs, the one that gave him his name – a gigantic construction hammer. It pointed upwards the way a hitch-hiker's thumb might, and he glared at passers-by with bright vision slits. He looked different somehow, less bulky in his overall frame, but no shorter. He towered above the crowds who made a wide arc to avoid him.

  “How did he escape Baz?” I asked.

  “Who said he escaped? Knowing Baz, he probably let him go of his own accord.”

  I waited for a break in the traffic and then crossed the road towards him. He hadn't seen us and so he continued to try and hail any one of the small, lightweight craft that zoomed by, all equally unable to carry someone, or something, of his size.

  “Thor?” I said once we'd gotten closer. The robot turned on his waist axis, hammer still raised, and looked at us.

  “Mr. Carter, sir?” he said in that awful Cockney accent we'd kind of gotten used to during our service together. “And Mr. Mason? The very people I've been lookin' for.”

  “What in the name of all that is good are you doing wandering the streets? Where's Baz? Why aren't you on the ship where we left you?”

  “Baz dropped me off, sirs, told me to go lookin' for ya. He says you’re goin’ on your ‘olidays and that I was to join you, sirs. If you’d be so kind as to ‘ave me,” he replied.

  “He what?” cried Mason.

  “Well sirs, beggin' your pardon, but I work for TRIDENT, right?”

  “Well I-” I began but he cut me short.

  “Well as an employee of one Alice Carter of TRIDENT INCORPORATED LIMITED-”

  “But you're a-” I stopped myself short of finishing the sentence and thought again. Somehow acknowledging the origins of this... machine? Didn't sit well with me. On the other hand, saying that he was something more didn't seem appropriate either.

  “Damn you, Jack,” I said to myself. “What the hell have you created?”

  “What?” said Mason. I shook my head.

  “Nothing.”

  “Sir?” said Thor.

  “Yeah?”

  “Please don't speak about 'im like that.”

  “Who?”

  “Jack, sir. Please don't speak badly about me mate, sir. He was good to me. Sir.”

  I looked at the bot and felt even worse. If Jack had been stood there, I'd have throttled him myself. How dare you mess with life, Jack?

  “Sorry, Thor. But we can't leave you to wander the streets, buddy. Where were you going before we showed up?”

  “On a holiday, sir.”

  “To where?” I asked.

  He looked puzzled if a bot could actually look puzzled. He turned his head to look up and down the street but he still had no answer when he returned to staring at me.

  “I don't rightly know, sir.”

  I sighed and wondered if the Fates of life had chosen me to be made an example of.

  “How about you come with Mason and I while we arrange some things?” The bot lit up with excitement.

  “Really, sirs? I wouldn't be no bother, promise.”

  “I'm sure you won't,” said Mason. “Come on, we're going this way.”

  “On our feet, sir?” he said.

  “It looks like it.”

  How Mason found these places was a mystery to me. As far as I knew neither of us had been to Titan 5 before, we knew no one on the planet besides the staff of TRIDENT who'd come here recently and yet already he'd managed to source a Craft Weapon's firm of questionable repute and a small arms dealer. Sharky was already outfitting the Hikane with what I was sure would be the best kit for the job (Mason knew his weapons, it was that simple) and no doubt he'd referred him to the compound of plain white concrete walls and prefab storage units that formed Alan's used arms and armor. A garish neon sign hung over a wide gated archway that simply said ALAN'S. Beneath it, cast in a cold blue glow, were two towering defense bots that reminded me faintly of our encounter with the drones on Capus Nova. These were painted military green and sported twin Hydra cannons. They moved back and forth before the archway on clanking tracks, digging great ruts into the tarmac beneath them.

  “Wow,” I said. “You've got to appreciate a good brand.”

  “It does what it says on the tin,” said Mason. Then, to Thor, he said, “Friends of yours?”

  “Model 8 Faradays, sirs. Not to be trifled wiv'“

  We stepped closer to a glowing white arc that began and ended on either side of the arch. It didn't take the message stencilled on the floor to communicat
e what it meant. Step inside that arc without permission and you'd probably have enough time to realize your mistake before being turned into mulch.

  “What's the protocol?” I asked. Mason shrugged.

  “Maybe they're open to reason,” he replied. Then, stepping closer to the white line, he called to the bots. “Alan's expecting us.”

  They stopped patrolling and turned on their waist axis. Not a sound came from them and the nearest began rolling towards us. Well oiled, well maintained. It boded well for the product.

  “Sanders?” said a voice from the machine that now loomed over us, maybe twelve feet high, maybe more. It was Alan himself, speaking through the bot.

  “Yeah, Sharky sent me,” said Mason. I looked at him and mouthed the word 'Sanders'. He grinned.

  “Yeah yeah, he warned me you'd be coming. Didn't say anything about your bodyguard robot though. He'll have to wait outside.”

  “No deal,” I said, jumping in. “He's with us.”

  “Look, pal, I don't know you from shit. You ditch the bot, or we don't transact. It's that simple.” I turned to Thor.

  “Let's go, buddy. We're not welcome here.”

  “But sir-” he began but I waved him away.

  “Let's go. I'm not wasting credits on this goon. I'm sure his competition will welcome us.”

  Mason looked at me and smiled. Then, turning back to the bot, he raised his hand and saluted.

  “Kindly go and self-replicate.”

  We began walking away and the bots began to roll towards us, Hydra cannons raised. We kept on walking.

  “Okay, okay,” said Alan. “He can come. In fact, I have a few bits he might be interested in. Not seen his type for some time. All got replaced a while back with CHERICA-AUTO units, the new ZES4 enviro types.”

  Something like a snort of derision came from Thor but he fell in beside us as the two defense bots parted and made for the archway. We followed.

  4

  The compound opened up before us just as the reinforced doors closed shut behind us. There were many buildings, each tall and wide and made from the same blast-crete that old military surface installations had once been quickly and cheaply constructed from. Each one was blazoned with a stencilled number and each one had its own bot guarding the entrance, equally armed with the same twin Hydra cannons as the gate guards. The road was well cared for, lacking any kind of weathering and it appeared to be reinforced, probably against damage from heavy vehicles.

  “Reminds me of the Pargon conflict,” said Mason.

  “That's something I'm trying to forget, okay?” I laughed. “Which way?”

  “I guess we follow that,” he said and pointed to a glowing arrow that appeared out of nowhere on the floor before us. When we took a step forward, the image moved with us, directing us to the left of unit 235.

  Around the next building the compound opened up a little and we saw many tanks, APCs and other assault vehicles lined up in a way similar to the light craft showroom, as if for just the right amount of credits you too could drive away in any one of these fine machines of war. One even had a price sign that hung down from the elongated barrel of its rail cannon. I looked at Mason whose eyes seemed to glow with pleasure. I shook my head and walked on, following the arrow all the way to a more aesthetically appealing building nestled in an out-of-the-way corner of the place.

  We approached the door and the dark oak-effect portal slid to one side, sending out a jet of warm air infused with cinnamon and fried eggs. It wasn't a pleasant combination.

  “Come in,” said a voice from within. I stepped inside and Mason followed. Thor waited outside.

  It was a bare room, nothing much in the way of décor other than a coffee table made from an upturned ammo box, a battered looking couch of green leather that had been patched with duct tape and the man who now sat on it. I wouldn't have been risking a lot by betting he was Alan. He wore faded DPM pants and an old, tired looking shirt with the top three buttons missing. He had both his combat boots on the ammo box and was leafing through a printed edition of the Sports News Weekly. He looked at us, smiled and stood up.

  “Sanders? And you must be McDonald. I'm Alan.” We shook and he offered us a seat on the couch. I declined but Mason flopped down causing the thing to groan in agony. “Sharky says you're the type of customers I'm interested in selling to. That right?”

  “Sharky says you're the kind of dealer we should be buying from. Is he right on that score?” said Mason.

  “I've run your names, you're clean. I'm assuming you've done the same for me so let's drop the bullshit. What do you need?”

  Mason looked at me and I shrugged.

  “We can do business,” he said. “I need a bit of everything. Specifically, this list.”

  He took a folded piece of paper from inside his coat and passed it to Alan who began reading it aloud.

  “Phos shields, 50-watt output... Two H and K laser pistols, extended cells... Two HARG rifles with twin ports and refocussed lenses...”

  He went on, reading the entire list that even I hadn't read. I wondered if Alice would still be happy with the idea of us spending those credits a little early with Mason holding the card.

  “Any of that a problem?” he asked as Alan folded the paper back up.

  “Not if you've got the dough.”

  “We do.”

  “Then let's scribble a little figure here...” He took a pencil from his shirt pocket and wrote on the top of the last fold, then handed it back to him. Mason read it and laughed.

  “Change the six to a four and you've got a deal.”

  “How about a five? Looks less like I cheated on my homework.”

  “That'll do.” Mason stood up. Negotiations were over. “Can you deliver by tomorrow morning?”

  “Sharky mentioned the rush you guys are in. Sure, as long as one of you is there to sign for it.”

  “Like UPS?”

  “Just like UPS. Brown suits and all.”

  Mason shook his hand. “You mentioned our bot before.”

  “Oh yeah, sure.” He scratched his beer belly. “Go over to unit 626 and take a look. Most of it was heading to the furnace but you can take what you want. My son will give you a price, he's down there breaking shit up.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Nice doing business with you, as they say.”

  We followed the arrow again and it led us away from Alan's not-so-plush office to the only building that had its rolling shutter door wide open. Sparks from a cutting torch lit up the place and as we came closer the hiss of a plasma set slithered towards us.

  “Well Thor,” I said as we looked into the unit. “What do you think to all that?”

  The place was full of stinking piles of robotic parts including entire models heavily worn and falling to pieces. The smell of oil, of burned metal and leaking servos assaulted us as we stood in the pale light coming from overhead lamps. Thor, clearly delighted by the finds, stomped in and scanned everything he saw, turning his head this way and that.

  “Like a kid at Christmas,” said Mason. “He should be careful that boy doesn't mistake him for the next victim of that torch.”

  “I'm more concerned that he'll want to take it all.”

  Thor came back to us a few minutes later dragging a crate behind him loaded with various indescribable bits. Then he turned to go back but I called to him.

  “More?”

  “Yes sir, much more sir. It's a find and no mistake!”

  Mason began laughing as the bot appeared to be skipping away, back into the unit. I shook my head which, if things carried on as they were, was going to result in whiplash.

  “I'd best go speak to the boy and find out how much this is going to cost.”

  From the look on Alice's face, it cost a lot more than we realized. We'd arranged to meet her for lunch at a big open market she knew that sold burgers on an open grill and somewhere big enough for Thor's bulk to fit in. He didn't draw much attention; it wasn't unusual to
see bots his size moving around that part of the city given that a vast amount of it was still under construction where the old districts made way for the new. It was, however, strange for people to hear him speak so I asked him to keep quiet for a while, at least until we were out of public view. He seemed happy to comply, perhaps still thrilled by his purchases which were also on their way to the Hikane, having no way of sending them to the Helios without blowing our cover.

  “I can't recommend the steak burger enough,” she said, sipping bubbly water from the neck of the bottle. “Ask for the hot sauce if you dare.”

  Mason and I got up and went over to the grill, placing our orders and coming back with two heaped plates and several bottles of soda. She wasn't kidding. The sauce was hot. I felt tears pricking my eyes as I bit into it.

  “You like?” she laughed. I dabbed my face with a napkin.

  “It's mild enough,” I lied. “Is everything ready?”

  “Just about,” she said. “Baz will meet you at the platform first thing tomorrow. He's done a pretty good job of keeping the Helios in order.”

  “Just not Thor,” added Mason.

  “Yes, he did spin me some line about rules and regulations. I warned him that there were also rules and regulations about staff relations and caring for company property. He got the message.”

  “Good. Us three will take the next shuttle up there and oversee the final stages. Our friend at Vertigo flyers says the living quarters are done so we'll catch a nap on board the Hikane.”

  “It's going too well,” said Mason. “I don't like it. Something should have gone wrong by now.”

  “Just wait until we're flying. I'm sure there'll be some hiccups the moment we leave Titan 5.”

  “Just be careful,” said Alice. “You're moving into a world of shadow and lies. Guns and explosives won't always get you what you want.”

  “You'd be surprised,” laughed Mason.

  “Yeah, we've found them pretty effective so far.”