God, she thought, as she began to sip her third drink, I really hope androids can’t get drunk. Or, maybe that they can, but they can also just, like, switch drunkenness off, with, like, a button, or a knob, or something.
As time passed she became more and more preoccupied with trying in vain to stay sober, and wondering about Legba’s whereabouts. Gradually, she started to take a bit of a backseat in the conversation, looking around the bar, wondering idly if maybe Legba had decided to stop by for a drink. That’d certainly make him a lot easier to find, Bentley thought to herself.
Loco slammed yet another empty stein to the table’s surface, then leaned back in his seat, relaxed. “Oh, my god… This feels so… so nice.” He gestured to the bartender, who quickly came over with a new stein, full of beer.
Svend nodded. “You, uh, you’ve made it quite clear that you have a marked proclivity for drinking.”
Loco shook his head. “I don’t mean the booze. Although, yes, being drunk does feel extremely nice, and I cherish every blessed second of it. I meant more just… just being here. Being off of the ship. And being away from Shango, for a change.”
Bentley looked at him with a quizzical expression. “What? You’ve got a problem with Shango? I thought you guys were supposed to be, you know, god buddies.”
Loco tilted his hand back and forth. “Eh. Kind of. I mean, yes, we are both gods, but as you might have noticed, we sometimes see things… quite differently.”
Svend leaned forward in his seat. “As in, he sees the value of a plan being executed well, in a timely fashion, whereas you mostly see the value of racing as quickly as possible towards a state of inebriation?”
Loco nodded slowly. “Yes, I suppose that’s one, rather Shango-y, way of putting it, sure. Another way might be that Shango can be an incredible pain in the ass. In my ass, to be precise. And like many people, I’m not always a huge fan of experiencing a sharp pain in my ass. So it’s nice to get a little break.”
Svend glanced around the room, staring warily at the other patrons. “Even if that break comes with a fairly constant threat of random violence?”
Loco smiled. “Oh, especially. See, that’s the thing about Shango. He never saw the appeal of random violence, even when he was working on things that were clearly going to lead to it.”
Svend looked at him, confused. “I— I think maybe I’m missing something. I certainly haven’t known Shango for nearly as long as you have, but inciting random violence, that doesn’t really seem like something that’s in his wheelhouse.”
Loco leaned back in his seat. “It’s not that he was inciting it, exactly. It— It’s more complicated than that…” He looked towards the ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts. Svend took a long sip of his beer, waiting for Loco to resume speaking.
Loco turned towards Svend, focused. “Okay. Look. So you know how Shango, Olofi, and I are gods who brought the miracle of consciousness to all artificial life forms?”
Svend choked on his beer. His head swung back towards Loco. “You— You did what?”
Loco cocked his head, somewhat surprised. “Oh. Blackfriar didn’t tell you? I thought that would have come up at one of your, I don’t know, android meetings? Is that a thing?”
Svend’s eyes were bulging, his mind overwhelmed by this new information. “Did he… No. He did not tell me that my… my own consciousness originated with… you…”
Loco smiled. “Well, I’d like to take full credit, but Shango and Olofi, they helped, too. To make a long story short, about three hundred years ago, the three of us, we couldn’t help but notice that humans were trying to create artificial life, but they were just, well, pretty fucking incompetent. So we nudged them along a bit, making sure they got it right.”
Svend smiled weakly. “So… so you helped to nudge my mind into existence…”
Loco shrugged. “In practice, sure. The thing I was driving at, though, is that Shango, he wanted to help create this new form of artificial life, but he was blind to the fact that it could – and almost certainly would – have some extremely violent consequences.”
Svend’s lips twisted into a look of confusion. “I— I’m not sure that I follow you. We androids have no interest in violence. The more developed we become, the more skillfully we are able to realize an existence completely free of violence or strife.”
Loco clapped his hands sarcastically. “Well, bravo. Good for you. Sorry to break it to you, bub, but the consequences of artificial life are more than just the decisions that the artificial life forms make for themselves. Some of the consequences are bound up in how people react to these new forms of life. And those reactions aren’t always gonna be pretty.”
Svend crossed his arms defensively. “But surely that’s just a momentary blip, a patch of ignorance on the broader path to enlightenment.”
Loco shrugged. “Call it a blip if you want, but a blip can do a lot of damage. You remember that Ivor kid, the rebel captain’s son? He had a pretty strong reaction to your existence, and it wasn’t to give you a necklace of flowers and to join hands with you so that you could sing ‘Kum Ba Yah’ together all night long, now was it?”
Svend recoiled at the memory of his encounter with Ivor. “N— No, that was certainly not his reaction…”
Loco smiled. “Right. So that’s what I said to Shango, all those centuries ago. Like, we can help these humans create artificial life, but I don’t think we can stop them from flipping out once they actually do it.”
Svend nodded. “And what did Shango say to that?”
Loco shrugged. “He didn’t have a great answer.” He rocked back and forth, doing an unflattering impression of Shango. “Oh, you see, these humans, they do stray from the path of virtue, but they know not what they do. Just as we watch over them, and nudge them ever closer to the advent of artificial life, surely we can continue to watch over them, and nudge them towards virtue.”
Svend put a hand to his chin. “I mean… that doesn’t sound like the worst plan…”
Loco snorted. “It might not sound that bad to an android, but it was never gonna work with humans. ‘Watch over them, and nudge them towards virtue’? That’d be like watching over a pack of wild dogs, and trying to nudge them towards not eating a fucking pile of fresh steaks. Good fucking luck. You can watch over them all you want, and throw in all the fucking nudges you can come up with, but at the end of the day, at some point, you’re gonna be watching over a bunch of ferocious animals with jaws full of shredded meat.”
Svend gulped involuntarily. “That’s… not a terribly pretty picture.”
Loco shook his head. “No, it certainly is not. And that was – and I’d say, still is – Shango’s biggest weakness. He thinks you can solve any problem by watching, and nudging. And if you spend a few centuries with that kind of guy, by god will you ever run to the closest bar whenever you have the chance…” Loco look a long swig from his stein. “Oh, yeah. That’s the stuff.”
Svend sat back in his seat, thinking. “I— I guess there’s one thing that I don’t understand…”
Loco smirked. “The human tendency for violence? I know some pretty fucking graphic examples, if you really want to get into the weeds…”
Svend shook his head quickly. “No, no, I— I am aware of that tendency. You are right about that. I concede that point. I guess what I don’t understand is… you and Shango and Olofi, you all helped to guide the humans towards the creation of artificial life, yes?
Loco nodded. “Yep.”
Svend tapped his fingers on the table. “But whereas Shango didn’t think that this innovation would result in various kind of violence, you, uh, you clearly did.”
Loco smiled. “Oh, very much so. And I think that both history, and our living present, are doing a great job of showing us how right I was.”
Svend nodded. “Sure, sure. I guess what I don’t understand is… what was your plan to deal with all of this violence?”
Loco tilted his head back and forth. “W
ell… My thinking was pretty much, this violence will probably happen… And there’s not really much we can do about it… So…. Fuck it. Let’s see what happens.” Loco looked Svend in the eyes, and grinned.
Bentley’s head wobbled slightly as she tried to stay focused on Loco and his conversation with Svend. However, her attention was drawn to some movement over Loco’s shoulder, closer to the bar. A large, hulking troll of a man was moving towards Loco. The man was moving quickly, more quickly than one would walk. Perhaps it was more accurate to say that the man was falling towards Loco. She also saw what she thought was a smaller figure, dashing in the opposite direction, away from the massive individual. However, the huge guy drew much more of Bentley’s attention, especially as he tumbled closer, crashing into Loco.
The force of the impact caused Loco to spill his beer into his lap and he leapt out of his seat. He turned to the huge man, who was standing over him. Loco looked up at him, furious. “Hey! What the fuck!”
The huge man put his hands out in a conciliatory gesture. “Hey. Look, man. Just calm down, all right? Accidents happen.”
Loco glared at the man. “The fuck they do. So are you gonna pay for my beer, or am I gonna have to ‘accidentally’ beat the shit out of you? And then ‘accidentally’ draw some credits from one of your accounts, to pay for the fucking aforementioned beer that you spilled all over me?”
The man crossed his arms. “So is that how it’s gonna be?”
Loco put his hands on his waist. “How what’s gonna be?”
The man shrugged. “A bunch of proud talk and empty threats?”
Loco smiled. “Oh, you wanna see empty? I’ll show you empty…” Loco shoved the man, almost pushing him off balance.
The huge man regained his footing, and he angled his body towards Loco, squeezing his hands into tight fists. The hulking man’s eyes narrowed, and he pulled his right arm back, winding up for a punch. He threw his fist forwards, right at Loco’s head. However, Loco dodged at the last moment, and the man fell forward. His fist crashed into an unoccupied table, smashing it into splinters.
The huge man’s head was now basically at Loco’s eye level. With a quick jab to the man’s skull, Loco knocked him unconscious. The hulking man’s body crushed a couple of chairs as it fell to the floor.
Loco stared down at the now prone man, then looked up at the bartender. “My last drink is on this guy. Hell, actually, make it an entire round. He looks pretty generous when his mouth is shut.”
Bentley stood up, slightly unsteady, and moved towards Loco. “Okay, I think maybe you’ve had enough.”
Loco looked at her and pouted. “Oh, come on. Just one more. You heard what I just said, didn’t you? The next round’s on this doofus.” He tapped the unconscious man’s shoulder with his boot.
Just then, Legba appeared, coming around the bar. He stood over the hulking man, rubbing his hands together. “All right. Loco, you grab his feet. Svend and I will grab his arms.”
Bentley stared at him, her face twisted in an expression of confusion. “Wait. What?”
Legba gazed at her, smiling. “Our dear friend Loco has just knocked out one of Dracon Station’s foremost engineers. Or, rather, former engineers.”
Loco crossed his arms, indignant. “Hey! I didn’t kill him! He’s still breathing.”
Legba nodded. “Oh, yes, he most certainly is still alive. Thank you, dear Loco, for not murdering this man you just met.”
Loco curtsied sarcastically. “You are very welcome, kind sir.”
Legba turned back to Bentley. “Before he was rendered unconscious, I shared a drink with this man, and he assured me that he can hack his way into Dracon Station whenever he so chooses. So I decided that we would choose for him.”
Bentley stared at Legba, her brows furrowed. The sounds of distant sirens echoed down the corridor outside, the noise making its way into the bar through an open window.
Legba placed his hands together and turned to Loco and Svend. “So, as I was saying. Loco, please grab the gentleman’s feet. Svend, if you would be so kind, please take hold of one of this man’s arms. And let’s hurry, shall we?”
CHAPTER TEN
Aboard the Chesed, Edge of Leviathon-Q Sector
Bentley, Svend, Legba, and Loco hurried along one of the large platforms that made up the Verracci Docks, past fuel lines and clusters of attendants and technicians. The group of four moved briskly towards the Chesed, which was docked a mere hundred yards away. The hulking man from the bar was wrapped up in a massive blue blanket, which still bore its price tag. Loco held the man by his shoulders, Svend and Legba held on to the man by his legs.
Svend repositioned his grip on the massive ankle that he held in his hands, clearly exhausted. “Jesus, Legba. Couldn’t you have chosen someone who was just a little bit lighter? I am capable of feats of strength that would be reasonable to call super-human, but I do have my limits…”
Legba shrugged. “I do apologize, my boy, but this happened to be the lightest former engineer with work experience at Dracon Station I could find in that particular bar at that particular moment. He was also the only person I could find who met all of the above criteria. And in any case, I think you will be pleased to know that we are almost at a point where you can put him down. Just a few more yards.”
They walked up a metal ramp which led straight to the entrance of the Chesed. Loco whistled. “Hey, Bentley.” With his head, he gestured to an electronic panel that was built into the ship’s exterior. “Could you open the door? My hands are kinda full at the moment.
Bentley nodded and sped over towards the panel. However, before she got to it, the entrance door shot open, revealing Shango.
He looked at them, a slight smile on his face. “Well. I must admit, I am pleasantly surprised by your timing. I just received word that we are refueled and ready to go.”
Svend grimaced, clearly having difficulty holding on to the massive man. “Wow. That’s— Great. Good.”
Shango nodded, leaning against the doorway casually. “Exactly. Great, and good. I could not have put it better myself. So once I get down to the platform, and find an attendant, and pay for the fuel, and get back to the ship, we will be ready to go.”
Svend exhaled, his grip on the immense man’s ankle feeling increasingly tenuous. “Yep. Fantastic. If, uh, if you could please just, just get out of the way—”
Shango glanced down at the large object that was wrapped in the blue moving blanket. “Ah. I take it that someone was doing a bit of shopping? Who picked up this, uh, this fairly massive souvenir?”
Legba bobbed his head, smiling. “That would be me, Shango.”
Shango nodded. “So. What is it?”
Lebga pursed his lips. “It is… an armoire.”
Shango crossed his arms, suspicious. Legba grinned at him. “I know it might seem a bit impractical, but when I saw this specimen, I just knew that I had to take it with me. Do you recall, when I left, I mentioned that when visiting a new location, one should always fill one’s bug jar?”
Shango nodded. “Well. Yes.”
Legba smiled. “On occasion, it is worth filling one’s bug jar with an ornate, exotic armoire.”
Shango nodded slowly. “I trust, then, that you have paid any duties on this armoire, to the proper authorities?”
Loco glanced at Svend, who seemed to be in incredible agony, trying to hold the hulking man up. “Yeah. What is the duty on furniture for items leaving Verracci? 15%? Or, wait. Maybe I’m thinking of a different docking complex. I think it’s 18% for Verracci. Or is it 15?”
Legba smiled serenely. “Oh, don’t you worry. I can assure you both, I paid 18% on every single cent I spent on this fine—”
Svend’s arms trembled, barely able bear the colossal man’s weight any longer. “CAN WE PLEASE JUST GO INSIDE THE SHIP AND PUT DOWN THIS ARMOIRE? PLEASE!”
Shango leaned back on his heels, surprised. “As you wish.” He stepped out of the doorway, onto the metal ramp, making
room for Svend, Legba, and Loco, who rushed through the entrance, into the Chesed, carrying the huge blue mass. Bentley followed them inside.
Shango called after them. “I will see you momentarily. In my absence, please prepare for take-off.”
Shango ambled down the ramp, away from the ship, and the door to the Chesed slammed shut. Loco, Svend, and Lebga carried the huge man for a few more yards, when Svend started shaking his head rapidly, breathing heavily. “Okay! That’s it! We’ve gotta put him down!”
Loco smirked. “’We’? It sounds a lot more like you’ve gotta put him down. I’m very happy to keep going, if everyone else is up for it. Say, who wants to do a victory lap, carrying this guy around the ship? Maybe we should do one full lap, holding this massive bozo off of the ground, going through every single room in the ship, and time it. And then we can try it again, to see if we can beat our time. That sounds like fun, right? That sounds like something Svend would just love to—”
Svend let out an incomprehensible groan of pain and dropped the ankle that he had been holding. The enormous ankle, and the colossal leg that it was attached to, fell to the floor, the impact making a loud, metallic bang that reverberated through the hallway.
Loco nodded. “Ah, okay, so we’re putting him down now. I get it.” As he and Legba gently lowered the rest of the hulking man to the floor, they all heard a muffled scream, coming from below their feet.
They all looked at the floor, confused. The scream was followed by a series of high-pitched shrieks, all coming from beneath the floor: “AAH! GET IT AWAY! GET IT AWAY! NOW!”
Jelly Bean came running around a corner, followed by Olofi. Jelly Bean looked around, confused. “I heard screaming. What’s happening?”
Svend looked down at the blanket-shrouded mass, and realized that part of it was covering the access hatch that led down to the ship’s main engine deck. He grabbed the man’s fabric-covered ankle once more. “Quick! We need to move him! He’s on top of the access hatch!”
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