Space Shenanigans

by T F R LeBoomington

  “You need to do the operation Pops! I’m not walking around with a useless flappy arm! Not even for a fucking day!”

  “Calm down. We need to do this right. The Agency will know! They’ll terminate both of us the moment they find out you made mods.”

  “Mate, in case you haven’t noticed, it seems like they’re already trying to terminate us.”

  “I don’t know bud. It’s possible we’ve got some trigger-happy lunatics going off-script.”

  “OK, morons, listen carefully. The only way this is going to work is if your idiot fans and everyone else thinks you’re still human. I’m going to fit a new, bionic, shoulder where yours used to be. But any bionic upgrade requires a neural interface.” Rick, much to Pops' apparent annoyance, was giddy. “Rick the world needs to think you’re still human. You can never take off your suit in public. As far as everyone knows the suit saved you and the suit’s medical systems fixed your arm.” Brock watched as Rick nodded.

  “I’ve waited so long for this.”

  “Well don’t get too excited. I’m giving you the absolute basics. You can’t be trusted with power. It would be like giving a loaded gun to a child.” Brock sniggered at Pops’ burn.

  “Isn’t that exactly what you did during the war?” Brock choked on his breath as Rick uttered the words.

  “War is different.” The tone made it clear the conversation on this topic had ended.

  One of the bot’s many arms brought forward a tray with various parts that seemed to have just been thrown on there. There was a bionic shoulder, a neural interface, a flesh integration kit, some muscle actuators, a few signal converters and a sort of crumpled up mesh net.

  Brock had been operated on, and he’d done some field dressing. He’d never witnessed cyberisation surgery though. Looking at what was about to go inside of Rick sent a shiver down his spine.

  The neural interface installation would be intense to watch. The thing was made up of several parts connected via wires so thin they looked like hair. The external component, the neural plate, was the pluggable interface that lets a brain synchronise with and plug gadgets in. Connected to that was the neural emitter which enabled remote connections with virtual worlds, people, AIs and devices. And attached to that was the neural control converter that allowed the brain to control any bionic parts.

  “You’ll also need the basic cyber brain implants to handle your upgraded organs. And since I’m going in there, I’m going to fix your brain while I’m at it.”

  Rick let out a celebratory “fuck yeah”, and Brock was suddenly worried. Whatever situation they were in… It was not going to de-escalate.

  “Rick after these upgrades you’ll be able to download and learn information very quickly. But you need to be careful with the mind-over-matter paradox. If you learn how to do martial arts, you’ll need a body that can handle the movements you’re trying to execute. If you do not have the proper augmentations, you will literally tear your body apart.” Brock held Rick’s eyes. He wanted assurances that he understood.

  “Yes, moth… I mean Brock!” Rick chuckled.

  “Rick I need you to pay attention. I’m going to put you under. When you wake, you will be different. It’s important you listen now.” Rick’s mirth was about to blow. What is up with him?

  “OK… Rob... Robo... Robopops!” Rick roared with laughter. Brock followed. Robopops frowned.

  “ENOUGH! Effin’ children!” Brock’s face immediately went to serious. That was a good one. No denying it. Fucking Rick... He sighed heavily as Rick’s face went pretend serious. “Bionic augmentations only work as well as the body and brain they are attached to. And well your brain is not the best.” Brock let out half a cackle and managed to restrain himself.

  “Fuck you!”

  “Rick!”

  “But...”

  “BE QUIET!” Pops roared and Rick settled, finally.

  “I’m going to put you under and remove your armour. I’ll spare you the details of the surgery, but there is one thing you should know. The modification removes the Babel Block.”

  Rick clearly didn’t know what that was. Why would he? He’d never had any mods. Pops guessed as much and explained the concept to him. It was a weird genetic mutation in the neocortex that stopped humans from cooperating effectively in groups larger than a hundred and fifty. It’s what made functioning as a society so hard for humans.

  “Basically the block means you can only care about 144 people at any given time. Each new person you meet and like bumps someone off your friends list.”

  “So when I wake up I’ll be more sociable?”

  “You’ll be a lot more things.”

  “More annoying probably.”

  “Can you fit me with a quantum anus?” Rick went down with a snigger.

  ◆◆◆

  Brock watched and recorded the entire fourteen-hour procedure. When Rick saw it, he’d probably faint.

  Robopops had started by unlocking and removing the armour. The suit separated into several parts: arms, legs, groin, chest and the helmet. The burnt and melted pieces of the chest armour had to be cut off.

  Pops took the armour apart and said it could do with an upgrade. Brock saw no reason to object. Rick would soon be able to sync with nanomachines. Self-cleaning and regenerating. That was a good idea just based on the dizzying stench emanating from the suit. Definitely upgrade.

  Robopops couldn’t smell the inside of the armour, but the sensors didn’t lie. Rick hadn’t stepped out of his suit since he left Terra, not as far as Brock knew anyway. Robopops produced a hose and proceeded to wash down the filthy human and his armour. Brock had to hold Rick down so the jet didn’t propel him across the room. Then things got a little tougher to watch.

  Robopops produced two large arms that turned Rick onto his front while ripping his clothes off. Before the body had even settled, he produced a circular saw on the end of a telescopic arm and sliced open Rick’s skull. Brock recoiled at the rapidity of the movement. Two small grabbers removed the skullcap while six more padded grabbers, like mini cartoon hands, started wrapping the brain in the cybernetic enhancement mesh.

  The little hands worked fast, but it was painstaking work. Nodules on the mesh had to be positioned above specific neural clusters to ensure successful symbiosis and connectivity.

  While the brain was getting wrapped up like a bush in fairy lights, the circular saw had opened up the back of Rick’s neck where the skull met with the spine. Two dozen needle-thin arms were busying themselves with the neural interface installation.

  The neural control converter was being connected to the cerebellum, a little further forward the neural emitter was being set up near the brainstem and the neural plate inner-workings were being incorporated into the spinal cord. Brock looked on in awe and disgust. Awe at the unbelievable number of connections being made and the minutiae of the work. Disgust at seeing his friend face down, butt naked, with little hands rearranging his insides.

  The saw had not retracted, it hung menacingly to the side, blood dripping from its circular blade. Brock stared at it to escape the butchery before his eyes. He’d watched unflinchingly for a few hours, to prank Rick. But the joke was on him really.

  The saw had been waiting for the little arms to finish installing the neural interface kit. Robopops had made Brock wipe it down with disinfectant. He called him nurse. No one was here to hear it, but Brock could swear he'd seen Rick smile. Soon after the circular blade was cleaned it activated and came down on Rick’s arm. A clean cut. Just above the bicep. The blade went up and came down again severing the top of the shoulder. Another clean cut.

  The little arms were back. They brought the brand new shoulder, the flesh integration kit, muscle actuators, synth skin and bone, and a glue gun. The dextrous little hands wasted no time connecting the shoulder and rebuilding the flesh and skin.

  When Robopops was finished putting Rick back together and closing him up, not even a scar was visible. Brock was admiring the handi
work as two syringes snaked their way over to Rick. One stabbed his neck and the other his shoulder.

  Pops mocked Brock for his quizzical air and told him they were localised nanobot colonies to maintain the new parts. Rick was smiling again. That fool would never believe any of this, but Brock wasn’t sure he could bear to watch the surgery again.

  Rick 2.0

  Rick awoke several hours later. He was lying in a bed propped up in a semi-seated position. His eyes opened and saw Brock’s familiar stone-faced features and extravagant head decoration. Robopops, Amy and Mr T were also there. Rick started laughing while mumbling Robopops. Brock shook his head and smiled. After a few moments, Rick composed himself.

  “Right, so what’s new?”

  “We washed your suit. That thing was foul.” The suit had extraction portals built-in, but apart from airing the suit out, Rick didn’t know what to do about the smell. Apparently washing it was the answer. At least they hadn’t brought up the stench in front of Moon.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know,” Brock smirked.

  “Come on man!”

  “Go on Amy.” Brock sidestepped, and Amy floated up to Rick.

  “Hey, Rick. How’s it going?”

  “Just tell me already!” Amy displayed the thinking emoji.

  “Where to start.” Rick displayed the exasperated face.

  “You can now neural link with people. Try it with Brock. Just look at him and think “talk to Brock”. Go on.” Rick looked over to Brock, intensely.

  “Hey Brock.”

  “Hey Rick.” There was no audible sound, but he was talking to Brock.

  “Holy ballsack! It’s like telepathy! Can I just talk to anyone?”

  “No. Only people near you or in your contact list. And they can block you. And you can block anyone. You can also connect to the QI and devices the same way we AIs do. Control your TV or order food with your thoughts.”

  “Also keep in mind you’ll get headaches after prolonged use. It’s simply circuits heating up but it still hurts. It happens to all cyborgs. That’s just the way it is.” Rick wondered if Brock was telling the truth or trying to restrict his usage. He’d have to look it up.

  “Still awesome. What else? Am I super smart? Super strong?”

  “No…Sorry… That’s not how it works. You still have to learn. But you can download information and learn faster. And you have this new shoulder.” Brock pointed at the shoulder. Rick looked under his robe. He could barely tell where his skin met the synth skin. Nice.

  Rick lifted the covers and swung out of bed. He rolled his neck and shoulder, both felt very stiff. If he listened carefully, he could hear a slight whirring and occasionally clicking as his shoulder moved. Still, it was better than he had any right to hope for.

  “What about the quantum anus?”

  “No Rick.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we didn’t have one lying around.”

  “You lie.”

  Brock sighed, “fine it’s because you’d give it away. You would, don’t even deny it. Some joke, some quip about it. If something was going to ruin the whole mission, it would be you getting a quantum anus.”

  Rick didn’t like it, but Brock had a point. “Anything else I should know?” His gaze went from Brock to Amy and settled on Robopops.

  “Just make sure you take care of your parts, specialised cream for your neck and shoulder. And don’t let fools fit junk parts in…” Pops stopped and turned away from the display. “Hey who are you? You can’t come in here! We’re clos…” Shots fired, explosions and then the feed went dead, and Robopops went limp.

  “What the fuck!?” Rick and Brock said it simultaneously.

  Rick saw a new expression on Brock’s face. Pops had been like the North Star, like Japanese trains; reliable and dependable. Brock’s rock. Rick watched Brock’s face contort as thoughts and emotions bubbled to the surface. He looked at Amy and at Mr T.

  “T, Amy. I need you to start scanning the net. Find out who’s coming. Who, when, where! I need to know everything.” Brock was looking a little wild-eyed. “Rick, get your armour on. Pops fixed it.”

  Rick didn’t think this would be a good time to argue, so he didn’t. He diligently got his suit on. Brock helped him, the whole time telling him to go faster.

  Brock handed the helmet over to Rick and edged closer to the door slowly, letting it slide open while staying clear of its kill zone. No one.

  They hurried down the corridor and into the waiting room where the others had been waiting for close to a day. Rick looked around. It was not a nice place to spend twenty hours. The room was too bright. The seats were joined together and bolted to the floor. They were rigid things with dividers so no one could lie down. In the corner, a loud vending machine buzzed away attracting unnecessary attention to its depleted selection. In the centre a low table was covered with holoscreens, many of them cracked or damaged.

  Moon, Gary, Steve and the dog all stood when they saw Rick, though he suspected it’s because they were excited about leaving this purgatory. Their expressions turned sour when they saw Brock’s grimacing face. The reunion was short-lived, but Rick got to give everyone a hug and especially pet the dog. Which seemed a little different, mostly the metal plating gave it away.

  “What’s up with Moondog?”

  “I had him cyberised. He needed the procedure if he was ever going to run again.”

  “Who’s a good cyberdog! Moon’s a good cyberdog!” Rick was glad to see the dog, and the dog seemed happy to see him.

  Rick was also happy to see Moon. Especially a smiling version of her, but he was trying to appear cool, and Brock was on the warpath.

  “Let’s go!” Brock was hurrying the group down the corridor when they were met by the paramedics that had helped them off the express. They looked at Brock knowingly.

  “We got the message. How can we help?”

  “We need to get off-planet.”

  “The mercs have arrived, they were on the following express. The station is being monitored. You can’t go back there or any orbital station.”

  “OK, so we’re going to need a ship.”

  “All our long range ships are docked at stations in orbit...”

  Brock had just lost his father, mentor and leader. Rick saw a look he recognised in his friend. It was brought about by that inescapable feeling that everything is unravelling. Hanging on by a thread. Rick had lived with that feeling for most of his life.

  “I have an idea.” Everyone turned to him expecting some sort of joke. But none came. “We could head over to a factory and pay a supply ship to take us out to Ceres. The prospect of making double his normal take might interest a mining ship.”

  “That might actually work.” The paramedics nodded in approval with Amy. They all turned to Brock. He was nodding too.

  “That’s not a bad idea bud. Can you get us there?”

  The answer was yes. They followed the paramedics through the maze of corridors into the lot in the back.

  The vehicle selection was light. Mostly airbulances and small personal vehicles. The airbulance might be a little conspicuous, and the cars were too small. They took a hovervan.

  Rick insisted on sitting in the front. He wanted to stare pensively at some scenery. He was leaving Mars, and he hadn’t seen any of it with his own eyes.

  They rode to the nearest factory and Rick got his Martian vistas. The rusty iron particles suspended in the atmosphere gave everything that famous brownish orange hue. Orange beaches, orange soil and orange hills, the green and yellow bushes and trees, the grey-white and green structures of the cities, the craters turned lake; everything appeared orange at a distance.

  The further they got from the ocean and cities the more orange everything looked. The farms were no exception, here too they seemed in full production.

  Rick thought about food. He hadn’t eaten since Luna. It felt like a long time ago. He wasn’t hungry though. He just wanted to
eat.

  Rick gazed silently as they entered the barren Martian tundra. He wasn’t getting food anytime soon. He chased the thoughts from his mind and turned his attention back to the orange land beneath him. The land of factories.

  The landscape was dotted with factories as far as the eye could see. A couple of kilometres or so from each other. Rick had expected more noise. He’d expected them to be loud and spewing long columns of black smoke into the sky, but he only spied the occasional wisp of white smoke escaping from one of the behemoths.

  They picked a factory directly in front of them and set down in one of the empty landing pads. Silence in the van. This is as far as the plan went. The next bit was a bit vague. Rick started moving as if to get out.

  “Wait!” Mom shouted in Rick’s ears.

  “What?” Rick switched Mom to loudspeaker and took his helmet and gloves off.

  “I need to check what Martian zone we’re in. Some of the factories operate outside of the Martian mag fields and gravity wells”.

  Rick nodded while vigorously rubbing his earholes with his little finger. “So?”

  “It means the temperatures might be low, oxygen low, gravity low and the radiation high. In which case I need to calculate how long you can be outside in full armour.”

  “Mom’s right.” Amy offered a “that was a close one” smiley emoji.

  “I was only going to stretch my legs…”

  Rick started thinking about where the clinic was. He found himself accessing the QI looking for his location then checking it against the mag fields and gravity points. Then he brought up his armour schematics. Just thought about them and he could see them in his mind like on a screen.

  The armour fully enclosed him, so he was safe from most radioactive particles. It would also shield him from cosmic radiation for hours on end. The temperature was fine as well.

  The problem was breathing. The filters, scrubbers and converters for the air supply would give him a few hours before the radiation ingested entered dangerous levels. I need more upgrades.

  “I’m only stepping outside to stretch my legs and get a look at this factory.” Rick liked his new brain. He tried the neural link. “Also Mom I want you off the mic in the helmet. If you need to speak to me only use the link from now on.”