Porter said nothing, but his eyes narrowed on Underow, his anger building.
“Well, enough for introductions. Surrender or die!”
***
The chaos of battle erupted around him, but Porter could only stare straight ahead at his intended target. Underow noticed him, but did his best to pretend not to as he ordered Company C soldiers around, directing them as if they didn't already know what to do. The soldiers ignored him, following their training. Underow hardly noticed — to him it seemed the activity was a result of his words, and he swelled with power.
The others sprung into action. Nix and Dirk swung out to engage some soldiers with stun sticks, darting in between swings and grabbing arms, making throws. Isellia dragged Joey with her to keep him close, darting between the pillars that supported the underground structure. There was plenty of room to maneuver, and she kicked the occasional soldier in the head when opportunity arose.
The crew had called the soldiers’ bluff — it would be too hard to shoot at any of the crew without hitting their own soldiers, especially as Kenpur and his allies immediately weaved into the crowd of soldiers. The soldiers instead got out their stun sticks.
Kenpur did the most damage. He was like a blur, a streak that moved through the soldiers; they seemed to fall and fly for no reason, flailing their arms, falling off balance. More soldiers flooded the tunnels. They'd dealt with this group before and weren't going to underestimate them again.
Porter paid attention to little of it, and few of the soldiers paid him any mind. He seemed little threat to them, he wasn't moving, and would be easy enough to drag away when they took the others. Especially with the stun sticks, they figured they should have no problem hitting such a big, slow target.
Porter had other plans. And they involved this little twerp who'd taken the use of his legs. He continued to glare at Underow, who surveyed the soldiers’ fight with the rebels; he’d almost completely forgotten about Porter. Finally a path amongst the battling soliders opened up between Porter and Underow, and Porter wasted no time seizing it. He gripped the wheels on his chair, ignoring the motor. He slowly started to spin them, turning the wheels over and over, their rotations growing faster, his speed gathering toward Underow as it sloshed through the thin pool of water.
Underow yelped in surprise as Porter slammed into him. He crashed into the chair on top of Porter, for a while the two rushed toward a cavern wall. Just before impact, the chair's wheel hit a pump in the concrete, snagging the tire. The chair came to a sudden and complete stop, but Underow didn't, flying into the wall. Before he could fall, Porter slammed into him, crashing him into the wall a second time. They both tumbled to the ground, crashing in a heap, with Porter on top.
Underow grunted in pain. He was already injured by the crash into the wall, and Porter's weight on top of him put an enormous and air-sucking pressure on his rib cage. Underow tried to gasp for air, trying to slide himself sideways to relieve the pressure. As he did, he felt more body parts injured than he could count, and cried out in pain.
"Stop, stop," Underow pleaded. "I think you broke something."
"I wonder what that's like!" Porter growled, grabbing his shirt collar. He reached back to punch Underow, but froze in that position for a moment as a stun stick shocked him in the back.
"Gaahhh!" he bellowed, putting one arm on Underow to balance and grabbing the stick with his other, throwing the soldier into the wall.
The soldier fell silent, but soon another stun stick pointed at him, then another. He found himself surrounded by a small group of soldiers, all with their stun sticks pointed at his head. Underow scrambled out from beneath Porter, backing away toward the tunnel.
Then a metallic hand grabbed one of the soldiers' shoulders.
***
The rest of the fight was a brief flurry of activity — the robot weaved, dodged, spun. Its torso and limbs moved in ways none of the crew knew was possible. Stun sticks whizzed past its cranial unit, soldiers stabbed their sticks at feet that quickly moved out of the way. They lunged for the robot with bear hugs, with the intention of attaching a demagnetizer, only to come up empty.
Soon the bulk of the soldiers’ efforts concentrated on the robot, and the other crew members simply watched. The robot’s movements were flowing like water as it fought off the gaggle of soldiers. Joey could only watch wide-eyed.
It only took an instant for defense to turn into offense. While Joey watched the robot's ballet, a company soldier snuck up behind him, ready to grab him as a bargaining chip against the seemingly unbeatable robot. Joey only saw the robot turn toward him and launch into a flying sidekick right toward Joey. He barely had time to duck before the robot's foot flew over his head, slamming into the Company C soldier.
The robot cartwheeled on top of the soldier, its fingers platforming on the man's stomach, and kicked another soldier running at it. It then punched another soldier square in the jaw as it landed the cartwheel, then spun and grabbed another soldier lunging at it, throwing the solider into a heap. Another soldier grabbed the robot's arm to get close enough to apply a demagnetizer, but shrieked in pain as she found herself in a wrist lock that dropped her to her knees. The robot flung her with his foot, sending her splashing across the damp sewer cavern door.
This went on until all of the soldiers lay strewn about the floor, unconscious. The robot held the last soldier in an arm bar and was about to deliver a knockout strike when two more people entered into the sewer.
"Well, I thought you would at least save us a little of the fun," said a female voice. The two stepped into the light.
"Rex! Celia!" Joey said. Celia crouched down and Joey ran into her arms for a hug.
"Objective complete," the robot said, knocking out the soldier with a strike to the neck. He lay on the ground, a demagnetizer splashing into the few inches of water that covered the floor.
"You be looking like hell, friend," Dirk said.
"Always did," Rex grunted.
"So what, this here be a girlfriend or some such?" Dirk turned his attention to Celia, who smiled warmly back.
"Something like that," Rex gave Celia a side glance.
Celia jabbed Rex in the ribs. "It had better be something like that!"
"And to think, your mug got uglier than the last time I saw you," Dirk joked. "Ma'am, welcome to our humble party. I'd be happy to introduce you around, and help keep you safe if this unworthy clown can't."
"That won't be necessary," Kenpur said. "Celia is not only capable of taking care of herself, she's more than capable of taking care of any of you. She's the strongest fighter here."
Dirk usually likes a challenge, but coming from Kenpur was proof enough for him. "My apologies, Miss. I meant no disrespect."
"None taken," Celia said, winking at him. "Let's keep each other safe."
"Perhaps you could give me a lesson some time. I always be ready for a pointer or two."
"How ‘bout I give you a pointer?" Rex said, smacking his fist in his palm.
"I'm glad you can all keep your sense of humor," Porter said, wheeling his chair between all of them. "But where exactly the fuck were you? I didn't exactly come here to have a family reunion. I sure as fuck didn't give up the use of my legs for this!"
Isellia opened her mouth, thinking of saying something about coming to race, but thought better of it.
"You all seem to know each other,” Porter said. “Great. You part of their 'revolution' too? Can someone tell me, please, what the fuck is going on?"
Celia walked up to Porter, crouching down next to his chair. She looked right into his eyes, her wide pupils gazing into his. Even in his anger, he couldn't help but find her big, soft eyes disarming. He hated that that was the case. He thought about having sex with her on the ship while they were docked on Farven Point. He didn't know what that had meant, or how to process it, so he simply hadn't. He could imagine it even now, and that made the effect she had on him even more powerful.
"I'm sorry about hi
s," she said, her usual carefree look gone. "I'm pretty confident we can help heal you when all this is over. And I will explain. You deserve that. You've helped us a lot.
"But for now," she said, getting up, Porter taking in the length of her body, "We have a little present for you,” she said, walking back the way she came, "we have your ship secured, and Isellia is signed up for her next race."
Celia disappeared into the tunnel they walked out of, emerging holding a lanky man with sunken eyes. His hands were bound behind him and he struggled fruitlessly as she carried him forward by his arm.
"But just for you, Porter, I brought you one present that only you would appreciate the most. The man responsible for our legs." She pushed Underow toward Porter's chair. Porter stared, wide-eyed, as Underow fell in a slump in front of him.
"Now, this little weasel got me 'fired' from my assassination job. He tried to have us killed multiple times. We would have happily killed him when we caught him in the hallway trying to get away. Looks like one of you did quite a bit of damage — he wasn't moving very fast. I certainly would have enjoyed it, in a way I don't normally enjoy killing."
She stuck her stiletto into Underow's ribs. He winced in pain as she twisted her heel back and forth. "Instead, I brought him to you. You've done so much for us. You let me on your ship, you let Rex on your ship. You complained about all this, but you kept going along with it. You helped us out.
"So, Underow is all yours. Do with him as you like."
Porter stared at the lanky, sunken-eyed man. He lay bound at Porter's feet, and didn't bother struggling. Where would he go? He was surrounded by one of the universe's deadliest assassins, and a whole lot of other people who were pretty tough.
Porter seethed with anger as he looked at the pathetic man. This is who blew up the shop, nearly destroyed his ship, could have killed his crew and left him paralyzed? He looked pathetic.
Every one else was silent, waiting to hear what Porter would say, what he would do. Porter wasn't sure. He had no problem beating Underow in battle. He'd just slammed his chair into him, injured him badly. The move might have killed him, depending on how they'd landed. Porter wouldn't have minded if it had.
But now, this pathetic man lay at his feet, his wrists bound. He twisted a little at his binds, a half-hearted attempt to loosen them, but otherwise was silent. Underow stared at the ground. It was almost as if he wished for death.
Porter had seen plenty of death in space. He'd caused some of it, certainly. He didn't bat an eye when Isellia blasted those space pirates in smithereens. They were scum anyway, irredeemable. They wouldn't have minded killing anyone aboard his ship.
Porter was no executioner. But letting Underow go, that also wasn't an option. Despite his appearance, he was certainly dangerous. He'd only come back with a squadron of soldiers.
Porter made up his mind. "He's coming with us."
"Are you crazy?!" Isellia said, grabbing Porter’s shoulder. Isellia wasn't the only one who gave him a funny look at the proclamation. The rest of the crew and Kenpur's crew went to work on the door leading to the chamber with the ship, or the stood guard at one of the entrances.
"Probably," Porter said, his eyes on Underow. Underow lay on the stone floor, with Rex and Celia standing over him. Underow wore a scowl, but then he kind of always did. Somehow, though, a look of fear snuck through under the scowl. "But not this time. We might need a bargaining chip."
"Bargaining chip? You think the Company cares about him? They'd probably pull the trigger themselves if given half an incentive."
"Maybe," Porter said. "Or maybe we can turn him into an ally."
Isellia looked at him with her jaw dropped. "Ally? Porter, the guy blew up your legs! They stole our ship! You think he's going to be our ally?"
"I don't think he really wants to do what he's been doing," Porter said. "I can't say how I know, I just feel it."
"Jeez, you sound like them now," Isellia said, nodding at Kenpur and Dirk. "Maybe that blow hit you harder than we thought?"
"I'm serious Isellia," Porter continued. "We need some kind of weapon on our side. I'm sick of Company C having all the cards. We need an ace ourselves."
"What are you talking about cards?" Isellia said. "Look, we could just drop him out the airlock when we leave orbit. Easy-peasy."
"I'm talking about poker, Isellia. It's a card game. What's unique about it is that secrecy and bluffing is practically built into the game."
"Sounds stupid. Probably why no one plays it," Isellia said, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, it's up to you I guess. Do what you want. But keeping him around is dangerous."
"I saw you playing Zippers on the Buzz," Porter said. "Where do you think Zippers comes from? Right from the Old Earth game poker."
"Great, I'll keep that history lesson in mind. Anyway, you better decide soon. You get to know him too much you're not going to be able to do what you need to. I'm just looking forward to getting my ship back."
They stopped talking to look up at Dirk, who stood in front of them. "She be open," Dirk said, motioning to the door. "Let's go get your ship, huh?"
Isellia gave Porter a pat on the shoulder, and stood up to follow Dirk. Porter wheeled himself behind. The door was open in front of them. Some dust kicked up, and then they saw the ship behind the cavern.
"It's a mess!" Isellia said.
"My ship!" Porter exclaimed, wheeling faster.
***
Porter wheeled in behind everyone else. As he passed through the doorway, into the wide cavern, the ship became visible — sort of. A passerby — not that a passerby was likely deep in the sewers as they were — might not have noticed it was a ship at all. The ship looked as if it had been dragged through miles of sewage, because it basically had been. The cargo vessel had never been shiny and beautiful, at least not as long as any of the crew had known it; but now it had a grime to it, covered in filth. It took the joy from Porter’s face, replacing it with something closer to revulsion.
"How is a cavern this big even down here?" Isellia asked, marveling at the enormous football field-sized half-tunnel.
"This here be an old launch pad for sewer maintenance ships," Dirk said. "They'd need to come in and out of here to repair the sewers, transport workers, and so on."
"The ship's so dirty!" Joey said. The robot looked at Joey, at the ship, and blinked its LEDs.
"Sure is, little buddy!" Dirk laughed. "Had to make sure she was disguised. Them city folks don't use this sewer tunnel much, what with the new one being built. But they don't never use it, you know?"
"What about my XR?" Isellia asked.
Dirk looked at Kenpur, unsure what to say. Kenpur nodded. "It's there, Isellia, but... listen, anything can be replaced.
"Repla— what happened? What did you do to my XR?"
"We didn' t..." Dirk muttered.
Isellia marched to the ship's entrance. She pulled the latch to open the gangway. It stuck a moment, and she pulled harder at it until the gangway dropped down. She stomped up the stairs and disappeared through the ship's door.
"Will she fly?" Porter asked. He could only stare at the dilapidated state of his cargo ship — it never was a pretty machine, but he generally took pride in keeping it polished.
"It should," Dirks said. "We flew her in here in the first place. She made a funny noise but flew. Maybe something from the explosion? And don't worry, we'll get her cleaned up real good."
Porter could only nod. Despite its current state, he felt at least some relief to have his ship back. He thought a minute about just how exactly he was going to actually get into the ship. He couldn't exactly wheel up.
"We took care of a landing pad, when we get your ship out of here," Celia said, as if reading his mind. "We made sure it's secure. We were busy bees today."
Porter nodded again. "All right, we can worry about getting her clean later," he said, wheeling around to face everyone as he spoke. "For now, let's get her out of here and to that pad. Someone want to help me on the
ship?"
Celia got behind him and pushed the chair toward the ship.
They got no further than the start of the gangway when they were interrupted by the loudest shriek they had ever heard.
***
Once everyone had made their way into the cargo hold, following the sound of shrieking and cursing that coursed through the hallways, they saw what the problem was. Isellia sat with her legs folded under her, holding a piece of her XR. The wings lay torn off, and huge bolts from a mining gun were shot through its hull. A large crack ran down the windshield. Isellia held in her hands a piece of the rear fin. She stared at it, no longer cursing. Tears ran down her cheeks.
Everyone stood in a circle, silent. Porter wheeled past them, next to her. He positioned his chair so that he faced the same direction as she did. When the chair came to a stop, he sat in silence for a moment. He put his arm on her shoulder.
"I don't … know what to do," Isellia muttered through her tears. "I don't ..."
Porter rubbed her shoulder. "They're taking everything from us," he said.
They sat silently. Isellia rubbed some tears from her cheek, dropped the fin on the ground with a clank. The others decided to remain behind.
"I'm going to kill him," Isellia growled.
"No you're not."
"And just why the hell not, Porter? He's responsible for all of this. You know it!"
"He's just a pawn," Porter said. "We kill him, he's worthless. Alive, he has value. He can help us. Unwittingly or otherwise."
Isellia began sobbing again. It embarrassed her to show a “softer” emotion, something other than the usual anger or sarcasm.
"Why is everything always so hard?" she asked.
Porter didn't say anything, but patted her on the shoulder again. He wondered the same thing.
"So now what?" Isellia said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye as she looked up at him. "What do we do now?"
Robot Awareness: The Inner Circle Page 9