by Isaac Hooke
“Sino-Koreans from Earth do that sort of thing all the time,” Lui said. “Visit any SK colony, and you’ll see Sino-Korean Earthers wearing surgical masks.”
“My point exactly,” Fret said. “The Earthers wear the masks because they consider the colony air impure somehow.”
“You’re all overlooking the obvious point,” TJ said. “How would you feel if a bunch of obviously former military men surrounded by combat robots waltzed into the downtown core of your colony one day? Of course you’d give them hostile looks.”
“I’d love to see what kind of looks these people would be giving us if we still had our rifles,” Bender said.
“I thought you muted us all?” Lui said.
“No, just you,” Bender said.
Rade noted the continual presence of security cameras, which were situated within protective glass domes atop the street lamps. Rade thought the inclusion of those lamps was somewhat superfluous, considering that the glow bars embedded in the geodesic dome could have provided light at all hours, but he supposed the city designers had opted for something more traditional. Besides, they needed an inconspicuous place for the cameras.
He momentarily activated his augmented reality pass through, which would allow virtual augmentations and advertisements to interact with his Implant.
Sure enough, he started seeing ads popping into his vision, courtesy of the retail shops. He wasn’t interested in getting a tattoo done, or picking up sausages that were the “cheapest in town,” so he turned the pass through back off.
One particular restaurant had placed a real physical menu out front, in the form of a wooden sign resting on the pavement. He saw such items as Ugali. Wali wa Nazi. Lukuma Pusi. His Implant translated them, respectively, as: Cornmeal. Coconut rice. Green Kale.
“Mm hmm! Have a look at these mighty fine menu items,” Bender said. “I wanna get me some Ugly. Or maybe some of the Wally Way Nutsy. Or how about that tasty Look At Ma Pussy. I bet Surus will like that.”
“I bet I will, too,” Surus said.
“I’ll join you,” Shaw said.
“Ooh!” Bender said. “I didn’t know you two were into that. Can I watch?”
“Bender, are you hyper today?” Shaw asked.
“Is it that obvious?” Bender said. “I get this way when my weapons are taken away.”
“Just stay calm, everyone,” Rade said. “We’ll deal with whatever comes our way.”
“What if when we arrive, the Phant is nowhere to be found?” Tahoe said. “Pulling the strings from behind the scenes?”
“That’s certainly a possibility,” Rade said.
“We might have to give up Batindo to the governor, if so,” Tahoe said. “Assuming the governor continues to play the sedition card.”
“If it comes to it, we’ll give up Batindo,” Rade said. “But we’ll return to spring him, of course. I never abandon a client. Especially when he hasn’t yet paid in full.”
They had all been using the private band, excluding Batindo, but as if on cue, the consular official spoke over the common channel. “How come you’re all so quiet?”
“We’re concentrating on the mission, bro,” Lui replied over the same band.
five
Rade and the Argonauts followed the Kenyan Artificial to a subway station, and crowded into a relatively empty train that took them through a connecting tunnel to another dome. When they emerged from the destination station, they found themselves in an area where motor vehicles occasionally drove past.
“The Phant presence is stronger here,” Surus said. “This is about as pronounced as the feeling will get. Our Phant is definitely in this dome somewhere.”
“It’s too bad you can’t pinpoint the position with any greater accuracy,” Lui said.
“I wish I could,” Surus said. “Though I believe it’s a safe assumption that we are being brought to the Phant, or one of its proxies.”
The team kept strictly to the sidewalk. The buildings here were mid- to high-rise apartments and office buildings, though again retail sections abounded on the first floors. The vehicle traffic was moderate on the adjacent road, and tiny cars zipped to and fro.
“Look at these things,” Bender said, apparently referring to the vehicles. “They’re like go karts, like what Manic drives.”
“I don’t drive a tiny colony car,” Manic said.
“Suuure you don’t,” Bender said.
“He doesn’t,” Fret said. “He has at least three sports cars. TJ, tell Bender.”
“Bender knows already,” TJ said.
“Sports cars are basically go karts,” Bender said. “Besides, real men don’t drive. They fly.”
“No,” Lui said. “Real men pilot mechs.”
“Wooyah,” Bender said. “You won’t get any argument from me there.”
The Artificial took them to a tall office building. The overhead map labeled it the “legislature.” Four walker robots stood guard at the entrance, while more of the mechanical monstrosities patrolled the grounds.
“Well, if there’s one thing to be said for this governor,” Tahoe said. “It’s that he likes his security tight.”
“Just the way I like my pussy,” Bender said.
“You mean ass,” Manic quipped.
Inside, the team crowded into two elevators and emerged on the top floor.
Combat robots stood guard at the end of a hallway before a pair of double doors. These were Centurion Model 6As—easily identifiable by the characteristic elongated heads that looked like motorcycle helmets replete with dark visors in the fronts.
The Artificial led them to the door, and the party entered the office beyond. A robot receptionist sat behind a desk in front of a floor-to-ceiling window that offered a panoramic view of the city. Hallways branched off to the left and right, leading to more offices. One Centurion 6A stood guard in front of either hallway; plasma rifles hung threateningly from their shoulders.
“Plasma rifles!” Bender said. “Bitches got plasma rifles! Model AR-49s, by my reckoning. I’d give up whooping Harlequin’s ass for a year to get my hands on one of those.”
“Please, have a seat.” The receptionist beckoned toward the four oversized chairs on one wall, which were capable of fitting their bulky jumpsuits. “The governor will see you shortly.”
Manic took a seat immediately, as did Fret, Lui and TJ.
“Where the hell am I supposed to sit?” Bender said.
“The floor is always available,” Manic said.
Bender leaped forward in a blur and ripped Manic from the chair. Then he sat down and folded his arms over his chest, wearing a defiant expression that seemed to be daring Manic to do something about what Bender had just done.
Manic stood up and brushed the lint from his jumpsuit. “I didn’t want to sit anyway.”
“Shaw,” Lui held out his hand. “I saved this seat for you.”
“Thank you,” Shaw said. She took the seat. “At least one of you is a gentleman.”
“What about me?” Batindo asked. “I am the client...”
“You can sit in my lap,” Bender said, flashing his golden grille and tapping the thigh region of his leg assemblies.
Batindo shuddered and turned away.
A boxlike robot on treads emerged from a side hallway shortly thereafter.
“I can take three of you to see the governor,” the robot said.
Batindo stepped forward, as did Rade and Surus.
“The rest of you, access my video feed and observe,” Rade transmitted. “I’ve granted read privileges to all of you.”
The robot rolled away down the hall, and Rade and his two companions followed. Offices lined the route; their doors were closed, and the viewing windows beside those doors were shuttered. The lights were off in most of them.
At the far end, another Centurion 6A stood guard in front of a thick wooden door. The entrance clicked open, and the boxlike escort robot beckoned for them to enter.
Rade found himself
in a large room facing another floor-to-ceiling window. Behind a spartan desk sat a dark-skinned individual dressed in a spritely business suit. Though he didn’t wear a shuka blanket, his hair was fashioned into corncobs and dyed red like Batindo’s.
It was an Artificial, according to the public profile.
Four more Centurion 6As stood guard inside, at each of the corners of the room.
Rade gazed at the necks and bodies of the closest robots in turn. Rade saw no sign of any neon-colored condensation, which would have indicated Phant possession.
Rade walked past the desk to the floor-to-ceiling window. The closest combat robot turned its body fully toward Rade, following his movements. It seemed ready to attack.
Rade ignored the robot and glanced over his shoulder to get a good look at the back of the governor’s neck. The collar of the suit sat relatively low, allowing a good view of the nape; there were no signs of Phant possession.
The governor craned his neck toward Rade uncertainly. “Amazing view, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Rade said. He looked at the two robots that resided at the corners closest to the window, but also perceived nothing. Hiding in a 6A would have been the perfect place for the Phant: it could control the meeting without drawing too much attention to itself. But it seemed these robots were Phant-free.
Rade left the window. The combat robot that he had aggravated continued to watch him with its weapon slightly raised. It obviously didn’t trust him.
Smart robot.
Rade returned to the front of the desk to stand beside Surus and Batindo. He met the eye of Surus and shook his head.
“I’m Governor Ganye,” the Artificial said. “Please, have a seat.”
Rade took one of the three oversized chairs, while Batindo and Surus took the other two.
“Aren’t you uncomfortable in those helmets?” Ganye said
Batindo was the one who answered. “We’re more comfortable in the regulated environments of our suits than you are, I’m sure. Especially after what you’ve done.”
The governor raised an eyebrow, as if perplexed. “And what have I done, Muto Batindo?”
“Refused to respond to official dispatches from the Kenyan government, for one,” Batindo said. “Given that your communication systems seem intact, this could easily be interpreted as an act of sedition.”
“Please, let us not talk of sedition here,” the governor said. “You are my guests, and I expect certain behaviors—”
“Guests?” Batindo interrupted, casting a glance at the armed Centurions. “Then why do I feel like a prisoner?”
“The combat robots are simply a security precaution,” Ganye said. “You have taken similar precautions with your own escort. I counted eight robots in your party, and ten mercenaries.”
“They are not even armed,” Batindo said.
“But they would be, if I hadn’t disarmed them,” Ganye said.
“By the way, we’re not mercenaries,” Rade clarified. “We’re security consultants.”
The governor ignored him, something Rade was definitely not accustomed to. “And it is true that we have not answered communication request from the Kenyan government, Mr. Batindo. While our communications systems seem intact, they are in fact not. While civilian communication bands with their weaker encryption protocols remain open, the systems we use to decrypt official government messages are offline. We have received dispatches from the Kenyan government, yes, but we have been unable to decode them.”
“Even if that was true,” Batindo said. “Why didn’t you send us a message in clear text, or via civilian channels?”
Ganye paused. Then he tilted his head, as if receiving a message only he could hear. Then a smile crept onto his face.
“Boss!” Tahoe said. “A bunch of 6As just rushed the office foyer. We’re surrounded... they’re forcing us to our knees... binding our arm assemblies behind our backs.”
Rade stood. “Why are you arresting my men?”
The 6As pointed their plasma rifles at Rade. He reluctantly raised his hands.
“We would have sent a message via civilian channels,” Ganye said. “Except for one small problem. You see, we’ve revolted against the Kenyan government, and declared our independence.”
“And you actually expected that if you didn’t tell our government this, they would leave you alone?” Batindo asked.
“Oh, I knew they’d eventually investigate,” the governor said. “But I wanted to drag out that day for as long as possible. Because if I told them this planet was ours, they would have sent warships to beat us into submission immediately. By remaining silent, at least I have given my colony time to build more combat robots. And time to hire mercenary warships.”
“I see,” Batindo said. “So you admit you caused the wreckage of the two tax collection ships whose wreckages we observed on the surface?”
“We ordered their demise, yes,” the governor said. “We shot them down with our defense platform when they arrived a month ago. We salvaged the comm node and black box from the lead vessel, preventing your government from remotely accessing the data.”
“So you were stalling for time the past month, is what you’re saying?” Batindo asked.
“Yes,” Ganye said. “Unfortunately, the corvettes managed to destroy our defense platform in the process. If that platform was still intact, I might have used it against you as well. Then again, perhaps not, since I could always use an extra mercenary ship.”
“You won’t get away with this,” Batindo said.
“Won’t I?” The red-haired governor tapped his lips. “I could have you executed, you know.”
“You wouldn’t,” Batindo said.
“It is well within my power.” Ganye smiled. “I have already killed their tax collectors, after all. And whether I add yet another Kenyan government official to the long list of dead will not affect my fate in any way. They will still send their warships.”
Ganye glanced at Rade. “Did I mention I’ve hired several mercenary ships? They should be arriving in this system any time now. I don’t suppose I can convince you and your merry band to switch sides?”
“Oh,” Rade said. “So now you’re interested in talking to me?”
Ganye shrugged slightly.
“As I already said, we’re not mercenaries,” Rade told the governor. “Our services aren’t for sale to the highest bidder. And even if I wanted to get involved in galactic politics, our vessel is no match for the warships the Kenyan government will send to secure the colony. Nor will the ships of any of the mercenaries you’ve hired, either.”
“In that you are mistaken,” the governor said. “You might be surprised at some of the craft Russian mercenaries have in their possession.”
A notification was flashing in the lower right of his display. It was a call from Bax in orbit.
Rade connected.
“Go ahead,” Rade sent.
“We have some mercenary ships coming in from the Slipstream,” Bax transmitted. “I’ve got classes of all kinds on the way here, ranging from Marauders to Destroyers.”
“Destroyers?” Rade said. “You’re sure they’re mercenary and not Kenyan?”
“I don’t think the Kenyans sport the Russian flag,” Bax said. “Some of these vessels are obviously stolen. They’re title information has been altered to hide their sales histories.”
“All right, I want you to reposition,” Rade said. “Move away from the colony and try to avoid contact with any of those ships.”
“Understood,” Bax replied.
Ganye was saying something to Batindo, and when he finished he glanced at Rade. “We’ve identified the frequencies used by the comm nodes of your shuttles.” The governor smiled. “We have begun jamming operations. If you will not join our cause, I cannot allow you to send any further messages in or out. I’ve also disabled your InterGalNet access.”
Rade frowned. Though he hadn’t disconnected, the comm status indicator had turned dark. “Bax, do you
read? Bax.”
No answer came. He tried to tap in Bax once more. The Argonaut’s AI didn’t connect.
“Tahoe, you there?” Rade tried.
“I’m here,” Tahoe replied.
Well, at least they still had local connections. That was something facilitated by the transmitters in their Implants, and boosted by the jumpsuits; but without access to the city’s comm nodes, they wouldn’t be able to reach the ship. And the jammer was apparently preventing them from reaching the comm nodes in their shuttles, as Ganye said, preventing them from getting the signal boost they needed to contact the Argonaut in absence of the InterGalNet.
The governor glanced between the two 6A units that resided in the corners of the room behind Rade. “Arrest them.”
The forward combat robots trained their rifles on Rade and his companions as the other two left their posts to obey the governor’s command.
Rade flinched as his arm assemblies were forced behind his back. He felt the gloves press into his skin where flexicuffs were applied.
“We’re being arrested as well, Tahoe,” Rade said.
“I’ve been watching your video feed...” Tahoe responded.
“Your shuttles are hereby impounded,” Ganye said. “And their contents confiscated. You will instruct the combat robots you have deployed in your shuttles to surrender immediately. I’m opening a window in the jammer to allow you to communicate with those robots. Be very careful what you say.”
Rade switched to the viewpoint of one of the Dragonflies. The feed was relatively good—he was able to piggyback on the open comm nodes distributed throughout the colony once more.
He saw that walker and enforcer units had surrounded both shuttles. While the Dragonflies might have had a slim chance of escape earlier, they had none now.
“Units G and H,” Rade transmitted. “You are to stand down. I repeat: stand down. Submit yourself to the authorities for arrest. However, only give them guest privileges to the shuttle. I don’t want them completely locking us out.”