“What do you think it is?” Rex asked, staring at it from a kilometer or so away.
“Maybe something to do with producing SLOP?” I suggested.
“Seems kind of fancy for that,” Rex said. “Come on.”
I was reluctant to approach, but at this point we didn’t have much choice. We were just going to have to walk to the pyramid and hope it wasn’t dangerous.
Closer to the pyramid, the rocky ground gave way to a smooth layer of asphalt. As we watched, a vehicle that looked like a mostly transparent plastic bubble descended onto the tarmac. It touched down and several attractive young women exited. Squealing with excitement, they ran toward a door in the pyramid. The bubble vehicle took off and zipped away.
“Come on!” Rex said, running toward the door. We reached the group of women and quietly followed them through the sliding door. Once inside, Rex and I stopped and looked around in amazement.
“It’s like an amusement park!” Rex cried.
It was indeed. It reminded me of holographs I’d seen of a place on Earth called Las Vegas. The inside walls of the pyramid were a gradient of azure and orange, like an evening sky. Thousands of star-like lights hung suspended in the air overhead. Dozens of whimsically designed buildings jutted up from the pyramid’s floor like a miniature city skyline. In the spaces between the buildings were swimming pools, water slides, carnival rides, open air stages, sidewalk cafes, bars and a hundred other types of amusement.
Rex made a beeline for a restaurant that was barbecuing meat on a spit. “Space, I’m starving, Rex said, staring longingly at the meat. “I haven’t had real food for days.”
“Well, have a seat,” said the man at the spit cheerfully. “We’ll fix you right up.” He wore crisp black slacks, a pristine white shirt and a stylish burgundy vest.
Rex absently patted at his pockets, still staring at the slowly turning meat. “I, um, left my wallet in the, uh, bubble thing.” He trailed off, pointing vaguely somewhere behind him.
“Not a problem,” the man replied. “We’ll put it on your tab. Did you just arrive?”
Rex nodded.
“In that case, welcome to Xanatopia. My name is Brad. Help yourself to the buffet.”
The man indicated a long table stacked high with fruits, meats, vegetables and hundreds of dishes of various kinds. I’m incapable of processing carbon-based food and some of that stuff even smelled good to me. Rex lost no time in piling a plate full of food and filling a gigantic mug with cold beer. He took a seat at one of the tables and began scarfing down the food. I took a seat across from him. Brad approached the table with a device that I at first took for a weapon.
“Sir!” I cried. “Look out!”
“Hey, what’s the big idea?” Rex yowled as he noticed Brad coming up alongside him.
“Easy!” the man said. “Just getting you an ID wristband. You need it to enjoy all the attractions here in Xanatopia.”
“Does it hurt?” Rex asked.
“Of course not,” Brad laughed. “It’s just a wristband with a computer chip. We use it to track your spending here in Xanatopia so you don’t have to carry cash. You just pay the total when you check out.”
“Oh,” said Rex. “Well, I suppose that’s okay.”
“Excellent,” said Brad. “I just need to get your name.”
“Right,” said Rex. “It’s Everpay. First name Willie.”
“Willie Everpay?” Brad asked.
“That’s the real question, isn’t it?” said Rex, giving Brad a nudge in the ribs with his elbow. “Seriously, though, that’s my name. My parents hated me.”
Brad shrugged and entered the name on the device. “Sign here, please.” He handed Rex a stylus and Rex scribbled a signature.
“What about your friend? Does she need a bracelet?”
“Eh?” said Rex, apparently having forgotten I was there. “Oh, her? No, she doesn’t really enjoy things.”
“Very good, Mr. Everpay.” He held the device up to Rex’s wrist and a thin metal band extruded from the end, wrapping itself around Rex’s wrist and snapping into place.
“Classy,” Rex said, holding up the shiny band.
“Indeed, Mr. Everpay. Can I get you anything else?”
“I think we’re good here, Brad. Now scram so I can enjoy my prime rib.”
Brad nodded and walked back to the spit. Rex went back to cramming food in his mouth.
“Sir,” I said, “doesn’t this place seem a little… suspicious to you?”
“Wadyoomean?” Rex said around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
“I mean, didn’t that seem a little too easy? We’re fugitives with a death sentence on our heads, and then we hop on a bus to the next town and suddenly we’re being treated like kings? What happens when you have to pay the bill?”
“He said I don’t have to pay until I check out. Maybe I’ll just stay here forever.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sure that’s a loophole in their system they’ve never considered.”
“Is that sarcasm, Sandy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, I get it. I’m a little suspicious too. But frankly I’m about six times as hungry as I am suspicious. Just give me a chance to eat and rest a little, and I’ll figure out our next move.”
“Yes, sir.”
*****
Our next move turned out to be drinking martinis and playing blackjack for six hours. That is, Rex drank martinis and played blackjack while I tried to keep track of how much money he was losing. I gave up after the second time he bought drinks for everybody in the house.
“Sir, you’re several thousand credits in the red. Perhaps you should quit before you lose any more money.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve figured out how we’re going to get out of here. I just keep gambling until I’m up a couple thousand. Then we can buy our way off planet.”
“That’s not how probability works, sir. Regression to the mean would suggest—”
“Don’t ever tell me how probability works, Sandy. That’s my motto.”
“Yes, sir. Adding it to the list. But perhaps we should think about retiring for the night. You don’t even know where you’re going to sleep.”
“I’ll just put a room on my tab. You need to relax.”
“I’m trying, sir. I just can’t shake the feeling that we’re going to have to pay for this somehow.”
“Don’t say things like that. You’re going to ruin my streak.”
“Your streak of what?”
As I spoke, an alarm went off and red and blue lights began to flash.
“What in Space is that?” Rex asked.
I looked around in bewilderment. People around us were cheering and looking up expectantly. Then a woman’s face appeared on the screens all over the casino. She was heavily made-up and had a frighteningly wide smile on her face. “Greetings, guests of Xanatopia!” she exclaimed. “I hope you’re all having a good time!”
The casino crowd erupted in whoops cheers.
“And I hope you’re ready for the announcement of tonight’s winners!”
More whoops and cheers.
“Before I announce the winners, though, let’s take a moment to thank Ubiqorp for making this all possible. Ubiqorp, makers of SLOP and other food-like products. It’s not food, it’s SLOP!”
Polite clapping and some forced cheers.
“And now, without further ado, tonight’s winners!”
Enthusiastic cheers.
The woman read several names from a list. After each one, the people around us cheered and looked around as if expecting one of the winners might be in the casino. They were disappointed until the very last name.
“And the final winner is… is this right? Willie Everpay?”
More cheers. Rex sat sipping his martini and staring at the screen.
“Sir,” I said.
“Shhh,” said Rex. “I’m watching this.”
“Yes,” the woman on the screen went on, “I’m receiving confirmation that the fi
nal winner’s name is indeed Willie Everpay. Mr. Everpay, please report to the nearest Xanatopia team member to collect your winnings!”
“Sir,” I tried again.
“Quiet, Sasha!”
After a moment, the woman on the screen went on, “We’ve heard from all of our winners except Willie Everpay. It says here that Mr. Everpay is in Lucky Star Casino. Mr. Everpay, please report to the nearest Xanatopia team member to collect your winnings!”
There were more cheers and many people in the casino—including Rex—began to look around for the winner.
“Sir,” I said again.
“Good grief, Sally. Pipe down already. I want to see who the winner is. They said he’s in this casino!”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “It’s you. You’re Willie Everpay.”
“I’m—oh, hey, I am, aren’t I? It’s me!” he exclaimed. “I won!”
People around Rex cheered and patted him on the back.
“Very good, sir!” said the blackjack dealer. “Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” said Rex. “So what do I win?”
“Well, for starters, your debt to the house is wiped out and all your food and drinks are free for the rest of the evening.”
“Wow!” Rex exclaimed. “That’s great!”
“And of course you’ll be staying in our Executive Suite on the eightieth floor tonight, also free of charge.”
“Wonderful!” Rex cried. “See, Sasha? I told you things would work out. We’ll get a good night’s sleep and figure out the rest tomorrow.”
“And tomorrow morning you’ll be shipping out to the SLOP plantation in Sector 17.”
“Fantastic!” Rex exclaimed. “A SLOP plantation sounds like just the… wait, what?”
“You’re going to the SLOP plantation tomorrow.”
“You mean, like, for a tour?”
“No, sir. To work.”
“To work!” Rex cried in disbelief. “All day?”
“No, sir. I mean, yes. Forever, actually.”
“What do you mean, ‘forever’?”
“Er, for all time, sir. Until you die.”
“Well, that’s not forever then, is it?”
“I suppose not, sir.”
“Okay then. Anyway, you can’t ship me off to some plantation against my will.”
“Actually, we can. You agreed to it when you signed for the wristband.”
“I didn’t read that thing!” Rex cried. “Also, I made a mistake earlier when I said my name was Willie Everpay. I’m Rex Nihilo. Tell him, Sandy.”
“He’s Rex Nihilo,” I said.
The dealer held up a device similar to the one Brad had used earlier to put the wristband on. The device beeped softly and he examined its screen. “This says here you’re Willie Everpay.”
“Wow, really? Willie and I must have switched wristbands earlier in the, uh, steam bath. I’ll go get him and we can clear this right up. Man, Willie is going to have a good laugh about this one!”
Rex turned to leave and found himself facing the garishly made-up woman who had been on the screens a moment earlier. “Going somewhere, Mr. Everpay?” she asked. I became aware of armed men approaching from several directions.
“There’s been a mistake!” Rex cried. “I’m not Willie Everpay. My name is Rex Nihilo! Do a retinal scan!”
“Sir,” I whispered. “Remember that you’ve been sentenced to death on this planet.”
“Argh,” Rex said. “This is why you should never tell the truth. That’s my motto, Sarah. Make a note of it.”
“Yes, sir.”
The woman smiled. “These men will escort you to your room now. Unless you’d prefer… other accommodations?”
“Sir,” I said, looking at the men with their hands on their lazeguns, “I strongly suggest that you allow these men to escort you to your room.”
Rex sighed. “Can I at least finish my martini?”
“We’ll have one sent up to the room,” the woman said.
“Fine,” Rex grumbled. “Let’s go.” Rex began to walk toward the elevator and I followed.
“You stay here,” snapped one of the men. “Humans only.”
“Oh,” I said. “Okay, then. I’ll just, ah, stay here and observe pointless demonstrations in probability distribution.”
“Nonsense,” said Rex. “Sasha comes with me. You don’t want me to make a scene, do you?”
“If you do, we’ll shoot you,” one of the armed men said.
“Right, and then somebody will have to clean the carpets.”
The blackjack dealer shook his head almost imperceptibly.
The armed man sighed. “Do you have any skills, robot?”
“Of course!” I said. “Why, I speak over three million languages. I can even speak the proprietary language spoken by Gro-Mor irrigation bots.”
“Why would anyone want to talk to a Gro-Mor irrigation bot?”
“Well, for instance if you have spent three days in a wuffle field, watching skorf-rats trying to run off with your squishbobbles.”
The man stared at me.
“Do you like the theatre?” I asked. I dropped my voice an octave. “Hey, Stella!” Up half an octave and a half. “You quit that howling down there and go back to bed!” Back down. “Eunice, I want my girl down here!” Up: “You shut up! You’re gonna—”
“What are you doing?”
“A Streetcar Named Desire,” I said.
“Do you have any useful skills?”
“No,” I admitted.
“Of course she does,” Rex said. “Anything a human can do, Sasha can do. Well, except eat, sleep, tell a lie or punch someone. She’s basically the perfect slave.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said.
“All right,” said the armed man. “You go with him.”
I followed Rex as they marched us to the elevator.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next morning, we were roused and marched unceremoniously downstairs and into another building near the center of the pyramid. A dozen or so other people—evidently the other “winners”—stood about in a windowless room, looking sleepy, hungover and frightened.
“What are the odds?” Rex groused. “Out of all the people in Xanatopia, they pick me? The whole system is rigged.”
A young man next to us asked, “How much did you spend?”
“Eh?” said Rex.
“How much did you spend? Your number of entries is determined by how much in debt you are to the house. I was down almost three hundred credits. I knew I should have stopped, but like an idiot I kept trying to win back my losses.”
Several of the other winners nodded and muttered in sympathy or agreement.
“Yeah,” Rex said. “That’s pretty stupid. Stop talking to me now.”
The man shrugged and walked away.
“What a scam,” Rex groused. “This whole place is just a big trap to trick stupid people into volunteering to be slave labor.”
“You wish you had thought of it, don’t you?”
“I have to admit, it’s kind of beautiful. Give away a few free drinks, sucker a bunch of people into working for you forever. Of course, they’ll never hold me. I’m too smart.”
“Yes, sir.”
The door opened and we were prodded by uniformed guards outside where a hoverbus with the Ubiqorp logo waited. The other winners began to climb aboard.
“Get ready to make a run for it, Sasha,” Rex whispered.
“Free donuts on the bus,” the guard standing by the door announced.
“Ooh, donuts!” Rex exclaimed, pushing his way to the front of the group. I sighed and followed.
Surprisingly, there really were donuts on the bus. Rex grabbed three of them and we sat down. “Trying to fatten us up,” said a woman across the aisle, who didn’t look like she needed any help in that department.
“What are you yammering about?” Rex asked.
She laughed. “You don’t buy that stuff about us working on a plantation, do you?
That’s just what they tell people to get them to go along with it.”
“Go along with what?”
The woman made a thumb-across-the-throat gesture.
Rex stared at her.
She rolled her eyes back in her head and stuck her tongue out.
Rex furrowed his brow and held up his hands.
She fell limp against the bus window, slowly slid to the floor, and lay there for several seconds.
“I think she’s playing dead, sir,” I said.
“She could have answered my question first.”
“I think maybe that is the answer.”
The woman climbed back into her seat and tapped the tip of her nose with her finger.
“If she’s dead, why is she doing that nose thing? Holy space, Sasha! I just had a thought. What if Ubiqorp is going to chop us up and make us into SLOP?”
“The thought had occurred to me,” I said. “Although they’ll have a hard time making me edible.”
“They’ll probably just break you down for parts,” said Rex. He took another bite of his donut. “I’m sure we’ll have another chance to escape,” he said. “We just have to bide our time.”
I wasn’t so sure. The hoverbus exited through an opening in the pyramid wall and we found ourselves once again zipping across the barren landscape of Jorfu. An hour later, we approached a ten-meter-tall fence, topped with razor wire, that seemed to extend forever in both directions. A gate opened and the bus pulled inside. We flew past rows and rows of some kind of crop—hulking plants taller than people, of a variety I was unfamiliar with.
After twenty minutes or so of whizzing along a narrow road through the strange plants, we emerged onto a broad swath of concrete dotted with boxy buildings flying the Ubiqorp flag. The bus stopped in front of one of these buildings and we were ordered out. A guard waiting outside ordered us into the building and we soon found ourselves in a large, windowless room with a single viewscreen taking up most of one of the walls.
The door closed and the screen lit up with the words:
WELCOME TO UBIQORP SLOP FACILITY 23
IT’S NOT FOOD… IT’S SLOP!
An animated SLOP packet with hands and feet appeared on the screen. “Hi, there!” it said. “I’m Sloppy! I’ll be guiding you through your orientation here at—” Another voice cut in: “SLOP Production Facility Twenty-Three.” Then Sloppy went on in his original voice, “I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about how SLOP is made, so I want to take a moment to clear up some misconceptions. First of all, no matter what you’ve heard, I want to assure you that the most important ingredient in making SLOP is our people.”
Out of the Soylent Planet (A Rex Nihilo Adventure) (Starship Grifters Book 0) Page 10