Aye, Robot (A Rex Nihilo Adventure) (Starship Grifters Book 2)

by Robert Kroese

  Pepper nodded her head. “All right,” she said. “It was a crazy idea anyway. Just something I needed to get out of my system. Thank you for your time, Doctor.” She tapped her comm, intending to call the robocar back.

  “Hold on,” said Dr. Harmigen.

  Pepper looked at him expectantly.

  “Out of curiosity, what was the proposal?”

  Pepper regarded Dr. Harmigen. She hadn’t decided how much she was willing to tell Dr. Harmigen. Really, she was just hoping to get enough information from him to put the idea of cooperating with the flies out of her mind. But she supposed there was no harm in giving him a rough idea of what she had been considering. “I have… a side business, in addition to tending bar,” Pepper said. “I was considering taking on a job. A potentially extremely lucrative job. But I’m not sure I can do it alone.”

  “And you thought the flies could help?”

  “I know, it’s crazy,” said Pepper. “But for some reason, I can’t get the idea out of my mind. It’s almost like the insects are talking to me.”

  Harmigen studied her dubiously. “That’s highly improbable,” he said.

  “I realize that,” Pepper replied.

  “But not impossible,” Harmigen went on. “I apologize for my initial rudeness; very few of my visitors are genuinely interested in my work. Come in, Pepper.” He opened the door to his hovel wider.

  Pepper hesitated a moment and then followed him inside, ducking to clear the low doorway. She found herself in a very small, very primitive, house. To her right was a doorway that led into a tiny office. To her left was a kitchen that was only slightly larger. The room she was in seemed to be a sort of general purpose entryway and living room. It had one piece of furniture: a small, rudimentary wooden table. In a far corner of the room sat another Gwildwanki, pear-shaped like Doctor Harmigen but slightly smaller, munching on a small pile of dried grass.

  “Don’t mind her,” Harmigen said, indicating the other Gwildwanki. “She’s my wife, Ethel. Non-sentient, of course, but beggars can’t be choosers. Sit anywhere you like.”

  Pepper smiled weakly at Ethel and sat on the stone floor cross-legged next to the table. Doctor Harmigen sat down across from her.

  “Are you saying it’s possible the insects really are trying to talk to me?” Pepper asked.

  “Probably not in the way you are thinking,” Harmigen said. “The individual insects are stupid. They merely react to biological stimuli. But each fly communicates in a basic way with all the other flies in its swarm. With a large enough swarm, it’s possible for a sort of consciousness to arise.”

  “Like neurons in a human brain,” Pepper said.

  “Precisely.”

  “But you said the swarms are too small for that to happen.”

  “That’s right,” said Harmigen. “But the swarms also communicate with each other to some extent. If you could get enough of the smaller swarms together, you could potentially create a metaswarm. A swarm of swarms, if you will.”

  “But if this metaswarm doesn’t already exist, how could it be communicating with me?”

  “I don’t necessarily believe it is communicating with you,” Harmigen said. “But understand that consciousness is a continuum. It’s possible that the metaswarm already exists on some level, but it is too weak to communicate overtly. Again, speaking purely hypothetically, it’s not impossible that the metaswarm is imparting ideas to you, perhaps without even intending to.”

  “Like through dreams?” Pepper asked. “Or individual flies signaling me in some way?”

  “There’s no telling how the metaswarm’s attempts at communication might manifest themselves,” Harmigen said. “What exactly do you think they’re trying to tell you?”

  “Well,” said Pepper, “for a while now it’s seemed like they’ve been trying to express their anger at the last of their habitat being taken away. It’s not just me, all the business owners in my neighborhood have seen it. The flies buzz around aimlessly, apparently just to irritate us.”

  Harmigen nodded. “Like when my wife is mad at me but she doesn’t know how to express it, so she pees behind the dresser.”

  Pepper nodded uncomfortably, glancing at Harmigen’s wife munching away in the corner. “Anyway, lately the communication has gotten much more specific. I mean, unless I’m imagining it. It started when I happened to see an article in the newspaper…” Pepper trailed off, not sure how specific she should be. Also, it occurred to her that she had only noticed the article about the Emerald of Sobalt Prime because she had folded the paper up to swat one of the flies. Was this whole heist the flies’ idea? She shuddered as she considered the notion. Had they orchestrated her trip to see Harmigen? Or was she losing her mind?

  “An article about what?” Harmigen asked.

  Pepper dodged the question. “If this metaswarm existed, would it be able to direct the behavior of individual flies? Like, if there was a specific task the metaswarm wanted completed?”

  “The individual flies act as extensions of the swarm. The flies are the arms and legs of the swarm organism. As well as the eyes, ears and other senses.”

  “What would you need to confirm the existence of the metaswarm?” Pepper asked. “Is there a way you could communicate with it directly?”

  “Theoretically possible, but I would need my equipment, which, as I said, is under lock and key at the university.”

  “What if I told you I could help with that?”

  Harmigen studied her for a moment. “This job you’re talking about,” he said. “It’s not entirely legal, is it?”

  “No, it is not,” Pepper replied.

  “A theft of some sort, I assume,” Harmigen said. “You want to use the flies to get around the security somehow. But why not use bots?”

  “There are sensors that will detect anything with inorganic parts. Even if I could find a bot constructed of entirely organic material, the EMP would short out the picocircuitry.”

  “Sounds like some pretty serious security,” Harmigen observed. “The sort used by museums. Particularly museums hosting exhibits of extremely rare and valuable gemstones.”

  “Hypothetically,” Pepper agreed.

  “Yes, hypothetically,” Harmigen said dryly. “I suppose you’re aware that the Yanthus Prime City Museum is owned by Yanthus Prime City University. The institution that ruined my life. So you can see how I would—again, speaking in purely hypothetical terms—be tempted to cooperate with such an endeavor.”

  “The thought had occurred to me,” Pepper said. “Why did the university shut you down?”

  “Because they knew I was onto something,” Harmigen said. “If I proved the swarms were sentient, they would get the attention of the Malarchy’s Native Species Identification and Protection Bureau. Development of the spaceport and surrounding businesses would have been delayed for years—possibly indefinitely. The university is too dependent on funding from the local real estate developers to allow that to happen. So they fired me and gave me a severance package contingent on me keeping my mouth shut and withdrawing my paper.”

  “And how are you feeling about that choice?” Pepper asked.

  Harmigen shrugged. “It was the only thing I could do at the time. And it gave me enough money to buy this place. By slowly converting my property to swampland, I’ve been able to create a refuge for a few million of the flies. But it won’t be enough. The flies are part of a very delicate ecosystem. One big drought like we had three years ago, and they’ll be wiped out. This is the only region on Yanthus Prime where the flies can thrive. The rest of the planet is too dry.”

  “What if we could buy some more land?” Pepper asked. “Several square kilometers, near the city. Convert it to swampland. Could we save them?”

  “Maybe,” said Harmigen. “Is that how you’re planning to spend your spoils?”

  “All I need from this job is to pay off a few debts and get off-planet. There should be plenty left over to see to the insects’ wellbeing.”
r />   “I’d have to renege on my confidentiality agreement with the university.”

  “Sure, but you could go public with proof of the metaswarm’s sentience. Go directly to the Malarchy’s Native Species Identification… whatever it was you mentioned earlier. Have them declare the metaswarm a sentient being. The university will be forced to back down.” Pepper didn’t like the idea of drawing the attention of the Malarchy, but hopefully she’d be long gone by the time any Malarchian bureaucrats showed up.

  “Hmmm,” said Harmigen. “It’s an outlandish idea, but I have to admit, it would seem that the stars have aligned in favor of our cooperation. However, the third of our proposed triumvirate has not yet spoken—at least not in any way I can decipher.”

  “The metaswarm,” Pepper said.

  “Yes,” said Harmigen. “It’s possible that you’re misinterpreting the metaswarm’s motives. Or imagining their attempts at communication. Even with my equipment, I can’t guarantee I will be able to summon the metaswarm. Supposing I can, I’m not sure we’ll be able to communicate with it. And even then, it might say no.”

  “Only one way to find out for sure, I guess,” Pepper said.

  “Yes,” Harmigen agreed.

  “You need to understand,” Pepper said, “there’s a chance we could both go to prison for this for a very long time.”

  Harmigen motioned toward the walls of his hovel. “I’m not really seeing the downside.”

  Pepper nodded. “We don’t have a lot of time,” she said.

  “Then we’d better get started,” Harmigen said. “How soon can you get me my equipment?”

  Chapter Five

  Stealing Dr. Harmigen’s equipment back was surprisingly easy. The security at the university was much laxer than at the museum; all Pepper had to do was rent a van, disable a couple of security cameras, and pick the lock of the biology department. Twenty minutes after pulling up in the van, Pepper had all the equipment loaded. She waved to the campus security guard as she drove off.

  Once she was certain she wasn’t being tailed, she made her way back to Dr. Harmigen’s hovel. The good doctor was nearly beside himself with excitement at having his equipment back. Even his dimwitted wife seemed to understand something important was happening. She rubbed up against Pepper’s legs and made a sort of mooing sound. Pepper scratched Mrs. Harmigen uncertainly behind her ears.

  “How long will it take to summon the metaswarm?” she asked.

  “Whoa,” said Dr. Harmigen, surveying the boxes Pepper had set down around his hovel. “Slow down. It’s going to take a couple days just to unbox everything. Then to get it all set up and calibrated…”

  “How long, Dr. Harmigen? The exhibit closes in a little over two weeks.” It had taken three days to plan the theft of the equipment.

  “Give me a week,” Dr. Harmigen said.

  Pepper nodded. “All right. I’ll be back in one week. Be ready.”

  As it happened, Pepper needed the week to prepare anyway. First she had to contact her fence, a man by the name of Blemmis Flurd. Pepper had known Blemmis for ten years; he had helped her unload most of the big scores she’d made over the years. He’d also strongly advised her not to take on the Shaashavaslabt job, arguing the statue would be too difficult to move. Pepper hadn’t listened to him, and she’d regretted it ever since. He seemed ambivalent about the Emerald of Sobalt Prime.

  “This is the score of a lifetime,” Pepper had said to Blemmis when she’d gone to visit him in his modest apartment in downtown Yanthus Prime City. “I can’t believe you don’t want in on this.”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Blemmis said, rubbing his bald head thoughtfully. He sat in a massive leather chair across from Pepper. Blemmis was well over six feet tall and probably weighed close to three hundred pounds. He had been a smuggler many years ago, but these days he was mostly retired except for occasionally finding buyers for expensive stolen goods. “I’ll gladly take the Emerald off your hands. I’m just wondering if you’ve thought this through.”

  “I’m still working out the details of the heist,” Pepper said. “It’s a little nutty, but I know this scientist who has these flies—”

  “I’m not talking about the mechanics of the heist,” Blemmis said. “I just want to make sure you understand just how valuable this stone is. If you thought you got a lot of heat for the Shaashavaslabt job, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

  Pepper shrugged. “Wouldn’t be worth it to steal if it weren’t valuable. Anyway, with what I make on this job I’ll be able to get off planet and buy a new identity. Hell, I could probably get my DNA scrambled. They’ll never find me.”

  Blemmis raised an eyebrow. “You think you’ll get… augmented?” He was holding his hands in front of his chest.

  “Ugh, no,” said Pepper. “The whole idea is to avoid attention. Why would you even ask a question like that?”

  “I know a guy who’s done a lot of DNA scrambling for the Ursa Minor mob. He’s really good with, um, soft tissue.”

  “My soft tissue is just fine.”

  “I’m just saying, it would draw attention away from your face.”

  Pepper glared. “Are you saying there’s something wrong with my face?”

  “Not at all,” Blemmis said. “But if you don’t want people to recognize you, it’s a good idea to distract them from your face.”

  “Well, I’m not getting… augmented to keep people from looking at my face.”

  “All right,” said Blemmis. “Maybe just have them fix your nose.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my nose!”

  “Of course not,” said Blemmis. “But it doesn’t really go with your eyes. You’ve got great eyes. If you had a cute little button nose… Oh, and freckles. I love me some freckles.”

  “Are you about done?”

  “I think so,” said Blemmis. “If you had big boobs and a cute little nose, you’d be totally unrecognizable.”

  “Thanks for your expert opinion,” said Pepper coldly. “Now can you get me a flight offworld? I need to get off Yanthus Prime as soon as possible after the heist.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem, if that’s really what you want to do,” said Blemmis.

  “What’s gotten into you, Blemmis? Have you gone soft in your old age?”

  “I’m way beyond soft,” Blemmis said, patting his oversized belly. “I just want you to understand there’s no going back after this job.”

  “I got it,” Pepper said. “I’m not a child. This is business transaction. I need passage offworld and enough money to pay my debts to the Ursa Minor Mafia and get myself a new identity. Whatever you can get for the Emerald, you can keep the rest. Is it a deal or do I need to find a new fence?”

  Blemmis sighed. “It’s a deal,” he said. “Give me a few days’ warning and I’ll have a slot open on a ship to one of the interstellar hubs, no questions asked. I can have half a million credits in cash waiting for you. Contact me a few weeks after you get safely offworld, and I’ll wire you half of whatever I’m able to sell the stone for.”

  Pepper was a little surprised that Blemmis didn’t try to haggle for a bigger cut, knowing the tight situation she was in, but she didn’t complain. She trusted Blemmis to give her the full fifty percent; he had never double-crossed her in the past. However much it ended up being, it would be plenty for her and Dr. Harmigen. “It’s a deal,” she said.

  They shook hands. “Good luck,” said Blemmis, as he saw Pepper to the door.

  Pepper thought this was a little odd too; Blemmis had never wished her good luck on a job. She didn’t have time to ponder on whatever personal issues Blemmis was going through, though; if she was going to pull off this job, she needed to focus all her concentration on planning the heist.

  The biggest hurdle was getting the custom lenses made to fit over the security cameras at the museum. First, she bought a camera of the same model used by the museum to make sure she got the specifications right. Then she went to see an engineer friend who cou
ld produce the lenses. Pepper had used this guy for several jobs in the past. His name was Tal, and he had a bit of a crush on Pepper, which was a good thing, because Pepper had no money to pay him with. It took some eyelash-batting and vague hints about how her schedule would clear up once this job was finished, but Tal agreed to produce ten lenses customized to her specifications.

  The lenses would be slightly larger in diameter than contacts, and only a few millimeters thicker—too small to register on the museum’s motion detectors. The only problem was that in order to make them so small, Tal would have to use the latest picocircuitry design—which meant that the lenses would be susceptible to the museum’s EMP defense. Pepper could carry the lenses inside the museum in a shielded case, but the lenses could only be exposed for at most ten minutes before the EMP fried them and the cameras went dark.

  While she waited for Tal to finish the lenses, Pepper worked on programming the simulation software to respond to the oscillating camera movements. It took several days, but by the time the lenses were done, she was fairly confident she’d successfully adapted the software’s navigational component to react accurately to the motion of the lenses.

  Once the lenses arrived—and she managed to get rid of Tal—she tested them with the camera. She had mounted the camera on a wall in the bar and set it to oscillate randomly, as the cameras in the museum were programmed to do. She placed a minute amount of temporary adhesive on the edge of the one of the lenses and applied it to the camera’s aperture. The screen on her desk, which had previously displayed a view of the room from the point of view of the camera, went black. Pepper tapped a button on a controller on her desk, activating the lens display. There was a flicker on the screen and then it was once again filled with a view of the room. She was standing right in front of the camera, but the display showed nothing but an empty bar. Perfect.