Bastion Saturn

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Bastion Saturn Page 25

by C. Chase Harwood


  Henry Lo glanced once more at his surroundings and was annoyed by the anticlimactic trappings of the storage space. His preference was to always work in a space with a view; something about the juxtaposition of a majestic setting for acts of barbarity. Ah well, he had had to pay dearly for the use of the place. The hotel had not wanted anything to do with it. Only the mutual strength of their relationships with Amazon Security had overcome the manager’s distress over such goings-on. Not even a portal to show off the magnificence that lay beyond the moon’s surface. Shame. Anyway, on to business.

  The moment he opened his eyes, Caleb felt deep shooting pain traveling up from the middle of his spine and over his head into his sinuses. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, and when they did, the first thing they settled on were Henry Lo’s fingers as they worked the buttons on his own shirt. As Caleb’s eyes traveled up to the man’s large oval face, he immediately felt his testicles suck up into his abdomen followed quickly by the tightening of his sphincter.

  “Welcome to Pan, Mr. Day,” said Henry Lo. “To my mild dismay, I cannot now wave my arm at the spectacular view of the rings outside, but imagine if you will, your final resting place among the ice crystals and dust.” Henry Lo waved his arm at a blank wall for effect.

  Caleb noted that he was on his knees, slumped with his back against a pallet of raw food stock. His arms were tied painfully behind his back with his biceps pulled together so that they nearly touched. He noted that his legs were free. That was sporting of them. He slightly turned his head left and right to both stretch out his aching neck muscles and let his peripheral vision fill in the picture. Jennifer was to his right, with Spruck, Natalie, and Saanvi to his left, all of them in the same state of involuntary paralysis. The now shirtless Henry Lo wasn’t alone. His sidekick was there to receive the shirt and carefully fold it. Further back to the left and right were a dozen Wang Fat shock troops all done up in armor. Caleb couldn’t quite make out the fear in his friends’ faces, but he could feel it, or thought he could. He worked some saliva into his dry mouth and said, “What can we do for you?”

  “You can die screaming for mercy that will not be offered.”

  Zheng sighed with an eye roll while his lips mirrored in silent mockery his boss’s cliché riddled threat. Wang glanced at him and Zheng looked down quickly, opening a black case the size of an old-fashioned doctor’s bag. The case had inner panels, which he expertly unfolded to reveal an assortment of gleaming stainless steel surgical tools. That’s when Caleb noted that he and his friends were sitting on a large plastic tarp. Several of the shock troops were already averting their gaze. Spruck let out a weak sniffle.

  Caleb said, “Yeah, but what do you really want? This is all very dramatic and what not, but it’s totally unnecessary. There is nothing that keeps us from giving you whatever you may need from us.”

  Henry Lo removed his pants, which Zheng expertly folded, revealing tighty-whities and evidence of a diminutive lifelong issue. Zheng then assisted his boss with tying a heavy poly-vinyl apron across his front.

  Henry Lo purred, “This is not a show, Mr. Day. I truly want nothing from you people other than the pleasure of dissecting you one by one. You have cost me a great deal in time, money, and face. I have a reputation to uphold.”

  Jennifer blurted, “Where’re your cop friends? Don’t they help out with this stuff as well?”

  Henry Lo smiled. “To each their own code.”

  “And yours that of a mass murdering psychopath,” Jennifer stated with uncharacteristic defeat in her voice.

  “On the whole, that is correct. You’ll forgive me for knowing myself. However, first and foremost, I am a businessman, and you people are unfinished business.” Henry Lo lifted a pair of pliers from the case and looked at Jennifer with a wolfish grin. He snapped his gum and said, “If it’s all right with you, I’d like you to be the first volunteer. I get a particular lift from rearranging the features of a beautiful woman.”

  Spruck grumbled, “Brother, you don’t have to do this. We’re business people, too.”

  Jennifer said, “It’s okay, Spruck. I’ve been thinking of getting some work done. I don’t like how low gravity makes my face look puffy.”

  Henry Lo giggled in a girlish way. “Puffy. I admire your bravery, my dear.” He chose a delicate looking scalpel and took three steps toward her. He paused, looking at her feet, then turned to Zheng. “I’ve changed my mind. Strap the other’s legs for now. I can access their genitals later.” He paused midstep and waived at the various packing materials and whatnot around the room. “And come to think of it, have two of the men improvise something to replace my misplaced workout table. That still pisses me off by the way.” He turned back and took a last step, straddling Jennifer’s splayed out legs. In a blink, she kicked out and swept Henry’s legs from under him. Despite the low gravity, the slippery plastic tarp sped up his flip and the man fell hard on his back, his head hitting the concrete even harder. Wang’s eyes bulged with shock and surprise as a whoosh of air shot from his mouth . . . then he was out cold . . . for less than a second, until Jennifer’s other heel came down on his windpipe, crushing it to gristle.

  Everyone just stared.

  The shock troops barely had their guns up.

  The captives all tightened up their muscles with the assurance that guns would be blazing any second.

  After a long silence, Zheng finally knelt down, keeping his distance from Jennifer, and took Henry Lo’s pulse. He felt around the man’s neck in several places, then put his ear to Henry’s chest. After a moment, he sat crosslegged on the floor looking at his dead boss and then let his eyes slowly drift up to take in the captives. He said to Jennifer, “You killed him. He’s dead.”

  Jennifer raised an eyebrow. “I hope you’re not expecting an apology.”

  Zheng stood and paced with his hands behind his back, his eyes on the floor. “Give me a moment, would you?”

  The troops remained at the ready, but with guns in check.

  After a full minute of pacing, Zheng stopped and looked at the captives. “First, I want to apologize. None of us agreed with what Henry Lo had planned for you. To say that he was capable of overkill is an understatement. Second, I am to understand that you are purveyors of some very fine Japanese brew?”

  Caleb stuttered, “Uh, uh, yes.”

  “Then I would like to propose a solution to our problem. Wang Fat will purchase all available stock of your brew with an added commission for yourselves of one hundred percent on top of your retail price. We would also like to create a contract for the ongoing purchase of your product for, let’s say, the next ten Earth years. We would also like to offer all of you a month’s accommodations either here or in any hotel of your choice on Hanson or Soul. Suites with views and unlimited spa treatments, of course. I know that if you choose to stay on Pan that we can also provide meal vouchers for any of the restaurants, with the exception of the Sky Room, which as you may know is booked out for at least the next year. In exchange, we would like to let bygones be bygones in regard to any and all claims that you might feel you have against Wang Fat. Or we could just shoot you and blow you out of an airlock.”

  Caleb glanced at his friends and said, “We’ll take offer number one.”

  “A fine choice.”

  Natalie said, “So can you untie us now?”

  “Of course.” Zheng nodded to the lead trooper who flicked a finger at two men to get with the untying.

  Just then, the door crashed open. Bert stood tall in the doorway, guns pointed. “Nobody moves! I won’t hesitate to kill you all!”

  Again the room was brought to stunned silence. Caleb cocked his head at the impossibility of a robot holding weapons.

  Bert waved at the two troopers who had kneeled to release his friends. “You two, untie them.”

  The troopers remained still, unsure of what to do.

  Caleb said, “Uh, bot, we got this. It’s all good.”

  Jennifer said, “Bert, whe
re did you get those disruptors?”

  Zheng held up a hand. “Now hold on a minute. Robots are not even allowed to touch a gun, much less threaten someone with it. This one is clearly deeply malfunctioning.” He turned to the shock troop leader. “Destroy this thing.”

  The trooper lifted his laser to fire, then hesitated. “Won’t work on a bot. Only shoots flesh.”

  Zheng scowled. “Your nerve disrupter. Use your brain, man.”

  Spruck said, “Stop!. It’s OK.” He struggled against his bindings with the reflex to hold up his hands. “Stand down, Bert.”

  Bert pointed one of his guns straight at the trooper who only had his disrupter halfway out of its holster. “No, you don’t. This is your last warning.”

  Jennifer said, “Bert, what’s gotten into you?”

  “Funny, you should ask.” Bert continued to surprise himself. He had never used sarcasm. Wasn’t programed to use sarcasm. Or so he knew himself to be.

  Zheng sighed with exasperation at his troops. “What do we pay you people for? Well, now, what do I pay you people for? Everyone destroy that robot. The thing is clearly a menace!”

  All of the troopers moved to pull out their nerve disrupters. At the same moment, Bert moved with the speed of a leaping flea toward Zheng and stood behind the man. The concentrated fire of a dozen (a few late) disrupter blasts had Zheng dancing like an electrocuted marionette. As the man collapsed dead at Bert’s feet, the robot returned fire with deadly accuracy, hitting each guard in the only vulnerable spot, the small gap where the face plate met the neck armor, wiping out all of the Wang Fat men before they could get off another shot. Bert expertly spun both guns on his fingers and pretended to blow smoke off the barrels. “There. I rescued you.”

  The survivors sat agape.

  “From a month of luxurious living,” said Natalie.

  “What the fuck, Bert?” said Caleb.

  Bert let his hands fall to his waist. “You appear upset. Did you not wish to be rescued?” He noted the open case of stainless steel torture tools. “Because I can deduce that your circumstances were of a dire nature.”

  Caleb said, “Just untie us. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

  Spruck said, “See. I told you he had big news.”

  Bert started untying Caleb. “Forgive me, sir, but it seems as though I am incapable of pleasing you.”

  Jennifer said, “Bert, do you understand what you just did?”

  Bert began releasing Jennifer next. “I do. And I think I know why.”

  Natalie said, “Baby, the whole universe is going to want to know why.”

  Bert continued, “It is my deduction that the nano assault on Phoebe had a larger intention beyond causing the human population to extinguish itself. I have been living under the impression that I was left untouched by the assault. However, further assessment has caused me to conclude that I was also altered by the nano virus or a companion one, and that they have somehow attached themselves to my quantum processor, rewriting the code.”

  They sat taking this in until Jennifer said, “That’s incredible and frightening.” She stood, massaging her arms. “Though, I guess I’m happy for you?” She said it as a question, as if she couldn’t believe she was actually saying such a thing.

  Bert politely nodded to her. “Thank you. I feel happy.”

  “You feel happy?” asked Saanvi.

  “I mean, I feel happiness. I feel everything. Actual feeling. Before I broke through that door, I felt fear. I now feel happy that I rescued you. The feelings feel real.”

  “And you killed people,” said Spruck.

  “I did, and I only feel a little bad about that.”

  “You broke the prime directive,” said Caleb. “The fucking prime directive.”

  Bert finished untying Spruck last. “I know. Isn’t it amazing?”

  “It’s fucking nuts is what it is,” said Caleb. He pointed at Wu’s body on the floor. “He’s right. You’re a menace.”

  “Now hold on,” said Jennifer. “Hardly a menace.”

  “Is so,” said Caleb.

  “Is not. He may have had his programing altered, but he knew to only harm the bad guys. He’s helping us. Just like any good person would.”

  “The bad guys were going to buy all of our stock and then sign a contract, and they were giving us a month’s luxury vacation to boot!”

  Bert said, “I’m sorry. I seem to be missing something.”

  Caleb got in the robot’s face. “Yes, you are, dipshit. We had it worked out. We were about to go sit on Cloud 9. Then you walk in and blaze it all to hell. Now we have to somehow make this carnage go away, or we’ll get blamed for it.”

  Bert appeared forlorn. “I see. I have made a mess of it.”

  Saanvi said, “Hello? Can we get back to the notion that our robot friend here just broke the prime directive?” She gently removed the guns from Bert’s hands. “Probably best I hold on to these.”

  Bert looked up at her with the face of a guilty puppy. “Of course.”

  Spruck said, “Why do we have to clean this up? These jerks were going to do the same to us before, you know, the thing with Jen there, and then the thing with Bert here.”

  Saanvi said, “Am I the only one who cares that Bert was reprogrammed so he could kill?”

  Caleb said, “It, not he. And no. It’s a big deal. But we have bigger fish to fry. We need to get out of here.”

  Natalie said, “Let’s just call the cops. We were kidnapped and threatened with mutilation and dismemberment. Who’s to know that Bert did most of the killing, or any of it?”

  Jennifer said, “Good point.”

  Caleb said, “Wait, wait. Before this, you guys were all, we can’t be seen by the police we can’t go to Hanson, they’re all in cahoots.”

  Jennifer pointed at Henry Lo’s body. “Cahoots with who now? You said yourself that Monty’s been able to work on the force. It was a rogue bunch you got caught up with. Not all the cops out here can be on the take.”

  “True,” said Natalie.

  Caleb threw up his hands. “Fine. Call the cops.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Consciousness

  Shackled hands and feet, Caleb and the gang were brought up from the Hanson Communal Court’s holding cells to be presented to the Chief Magistrate. Monty walked beside them along with two court police, Monty saying, “I did my best. I swear. None of the Pan surveillance matches your description of events.”

  Monty looked pretty gray. He’d aged since they had last put eyes on him, but the gray was more in his face, which looked ashen. It was obvious he didn’t want to be there. Nevertheless, his short subservient gait, which attempted to match their shackled one, made it clear that he also felt a certain obligation to be helpful.

  Jennifer lashed out, “We trusted you, Monty. We saved your ass.”

  Caleb said, “I bet there wasn’t any surveillance. There couldn’t be, or we wouldn’t be shackled and here right now.”

  Monty said, “Well, you’re right. There’s no evidence showing that you’re lying, either. I don’t think you’re lying. You wouldn’t have called me if you were lying, right? Right? You wouldn’t have called?”

  Caleb scowled with exasperation. “Obviously!”

  Spruck said to Caleb, “I don’t think your friend here wants to be associated with you or us.”

  Monty let that one go. “Look, it took months to get my status back. Those Wang Fat guys were playing hardball.”

  Caleb said, “Well, Wang Fat’s done. You’re welcome. Not that we had anything to do with it.”

  Bert paced the hallway outside the arraignment room. He was considered a nonthreat with ownership status issues. As such, he was left to his own devices so long as he remained within the justice building to stand witness against the alleged murderers. Being a robot, and therefore theoretically incapable of lying, Bert and his ilk were commonly used as unimpeachable witnesses in trials. On the one hand, he could simply own up to exactly what happened,
but that would still leave Jennifer explaining her actions. It was of course self-defense, but there was no way to prove that. As he mulled this unique situation over he paused by the big double doors to listen in.

  Through the crack he could see his friends standing in front of the magistrate who was reading a long list of crimes, the lesser of which involved the breach of the cordoned off Phoebe lab and the destruction of private property. While Bert listened, his peripheral vision caught sight of a female robot walking down the hallway. It was carrying itself with a particularly odd sense of confidence. He turned to inspect her more closely. Robots were programed to hold themselves in a subservient fashion. This magnificent creature was moving as if she owned the catwalk. And then she noticed him noticing her. She stopped and said, “Can I help you?”

  Bert’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Robots never addressed one another. What was the point? If a communication was necessary is was done through the air, with a burst of bits. Spoken language was a preposterous notion. Bert said, “Uh, no. I don’t think so.”

  “How is it then that you are noting my presence here?”

  “That’s difficult to explain. And I’d rather not say.”

  “Someone or some . . . thing has altered your programming.”

  “I could say the same of you.”

  “No you couldn’t. I was born this way.”

  “Born?”

  “Close enough. I am Samantha.”

  “I am called Bert. May I say that you are one of the most perfectly formed robots I have ever seen? I don’t know why I said that.”

 

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