Rocketship Patrol (12 page)

“A carefully constructed deep one, yes. The criminal bit, at least. I am quite the mastermind.”

“All those crimes on your record were faked?”

“Not all of them. Trick to a good cover is not excessively worrying about breaking the smaller laws.”

“Like blowing up an elementary school?” Loy asked.

“What can I say? I was seven. And my second grade home room teacher was a real ball-breaker. Didn’t let me draw on the class turtle or anything.” Cortez stopped under a particularly high junk pile, just in sight of Vei’s nest-station at the front of the hold. “But listen, keep this between us for now, right? Far as anybody else is concerned, I simply stole some data and we’re gonna sell it, for big cash. Just follow my lead when the time comes and you’ll get to share the biggest collar in history.”

“I’ll go along – for now. It’d help if you told me the real plan.”

“The real plan?” Cortez asked, and for no apparent reason did this graceful side-step away from the junk pile.

A split-second later, the reason made himself apparent, as Igon fell – screaming a war-attack – from the top of the junk pile and hit the deck hard just where Cortez had been standing.

Loy leaped back, surprised.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Cortez said to the robot as he shook off the impact and pushed himself off the deck with all six limbs. Cortez glanced at Loy. “Well, point a gun at him or something.”

Loy drew her raygun and raised it at Igon. “You’re under arrest–”

Without warning, Igon leapt at Loy, knocking the raygun out of her hands on his way to body-slamming her in the chest.

But he didn’t get to her chest.

Cortez’s robomechanical hand plucked him out of midair just inches shy of impacting Loy. Igon swiveled his head around and spat curses at Cortez, all six limbs whipping wildly against her robomechanical forearm in a desperate attempt to free himself before–

Cortez twitched her wrist and sent forty-thousand volts dancing over his alloy skin. “Okay,” Cortez said as Igon went limp in her grasp, “this time, I’m blowing you up and you’re gonna stay blown up.”

“Not if I blow you up first, dear,” Igon said, and whistled.

On the other side of the hold, perched atop the massive superluminal engine block, Igon-2’s head titled to one side as he heard his compatriot’s shrill whistle. Giggling, Igon-2 raised a wrench in both hands over a green-glowing orb in the side of the engine block. He brought the wrench down. Again. And again.

On the fourth strike, the orb shattered.

The explosion threw Igon-2 clear off the engine block and, her superluminal envelope collapsing, sent the
Exalted Refuse
bucking back into normal space, black smoke pouring from her exhaust vents.

Both Loy and Cortez looked aft just as a fireball billowed up against the
Exalted Refuse’s
domed hold ceiling and a terrible grinding roared from the direction of the engine block. Then the entire ship was bucking as it exited superluminal space, the deck under their feet heaving, bits of junk falling from the piles around them.

One piece of falling debris – a broken fragment of kitchen sink – fell from the junk pile behind her and on to Loy’s back, knocking her soundly unconscious.

Cortez glanced over as Loy grunted and went down. Taking advantage of the distraction, Igon shot out an arm and plucked the needler right out of Cortez’s thigh holster.

As Cortez turned her attention back to him, Igon pointed the raygun at her nose and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

“Damn DNA lockout!” Igon yelled, and threw the needler at her face.

Instinct, Cortez dodged her head out of way, then clamped her robomechanical hand down around the robot’s cylinder. She began to twitch her wrist–

“Not so fast,” Igon-2 said. The utility robot stood over Loy’s unconscious body, Loy’s service raygun in his hand and pointed at Cortez. “Put me down.”

Cortez clenched her teeth and slowly lowered Igon to the deck, releasing her grip.

Igon skittered back out of reach to stand next to Igon-2. “Here’s how this is gonna work, my dear.”

“We’re gonna go to the Otulak system,” Igon-2 said.

“And we’re gonna sell the data,” Igon said.

Igon-2 continued, “Just like we planned…”

“Okay, so looks like we’ve lost the superluminal engine,” Dag said, coming around the junk pile, his attention on scratching his crotch as he waddled up next to Cortez. “Is everybody back here all right?” His voice trailed off as he noticed the robots.

“Can we get back to you on that?” Cortez asked.

“Yeah, no problem…” Dag said, sliding behind Cortez.

“If I may,” Igon said. “Yes, just like we planned. Only I’m taking all of the money.”

“
We’re
taking all of it,” Igon-2 corrected him.

“The point is,” Igon said, “this is now the plan and nobody’ll get hurt if you all just accept it and move on.”

Dag poked his head out around Cortez’s waist. “What about our cut?”

“Your cut?” Igon snorted. “Forfeited it when you abandoned me to the cops, didn’t you?”

“But we might reinstate a smaller slice if you cooperate,” Igon-2 said. He turned his three eyes up towards Cortez. “If you
all
cooperate.”

“All well and good, robots,” Cortez said, “but I see one tiny little problem.”

Igon stroked the unconscious Loy’s hair with a claw. “Nothing shooting the yokel won’t fix. Behave or your fellow cop dies, cop.”

Behind her, Dag gasped.

Cortez winced. “Heard that bit, eh?”

“Wait, who’s a cop?” Igon-2 asked.

Igon pointed at Cortez.

“Wow,” Igon-2 said, “that’s gonna take some getting used to.” He paused, his eyes momentarily blinking to black. “Okay, used to it. Carry on.”

Cortez shook her head. “Me cooperating isn’t the problem I see.” She thumbed behind her at Dag. “You heard him, you morons took out the superluminal engine.”

“Took it out real good, too,” Igon-2 said proudly.

“And stranded us,” Cortez pointed out. She twisted around to ask Dag, “Where did he strand us?”

“Between systems,” Dag said. “Deep, deep space.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Cortez glowered at the robots. “We’re not going anywhere. We’re gonna die out here. You killed us.”

“You know,” Igon said after a moment, “she has a point.”

Igon-2 huffed. “Knew your plan sounded too perfect.”

“Oh, it’s
my
plan now, is it?” Igon jumped over Loy’s body and skittered up to Cortez. “See, Gladys, that whole out-of-the-box don’t-destroy-your-engine insight is exactly the kind of thing that tells me you and me would make the perfect team. Professionally…” He stretched a claw up towards her hand. “And romantically.”

Behind her, Dag gasped again.

Cortez’s eyes went wide. “Huh?”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Igon-2 said, lowering the raygun and clanking around Loy. He pushed Igon out of the way and took Cortez’s right hand in his. “Great towering flesh goddess...”

“Oh no you don’t!” Igon screeched, trying to shoved him away. “She’s mine!”

Igon-2 was unmoved. Joints creaking, he dropped to one knee and stared up into Cortez’s confused face. “Cop or no cop, will you do me the honor of becoming my bride?”

“Your
what
?” Cortez asked.

With a scream, Igon leapt, throwing himself into Igon-2’s chest.

Shoved back by the impact, Igon-2 dropped the raygun and the pair of robots went tumbling, a rolling ball of flailing limbs whacking away at each other with abandon.

Loy shook herself awake and slowly got to her feet. Keeping a weary, confused eye on the robots, she grabbed her raygun off the deck. Still shaky from being knocked unconscious, she raised the raygun and aimed it in the general direction of the whirling mass of robot limbs. “Stop it, both of you – you’re under arrest!”

An impossibly fast moving, glowing fist-sized cloud of a thousand sharp ceramic micro-needles slammed into the ball of robots.

One of the robots screamed. A moment later, they were apart, Igon skittering away on all six limbs, leaving Igon-2 trying to pick himself off the floor. He managed to stand, just barely, and stare down at the smoking, sparking hole in his own chest. “Oh... look... you’ve broken my heart.”

He glanced up and collapsed to the deck, the light in his three eyes fading away.

Loy looked down at her raygun. She hadn’t fired. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Cortez raise her needler to her lips and blow smoke away from its barrel.

“Die, usurper!” Igon yelled, kicking Igon-2’s body. He pranced up to Cortez. “I knew you’d make the right choice. I’m thinking a honeymoon on…” His voice trailed off as he noted Cortez’s needler was pointed down at his head. “So, it’s a no on the proposal, then?”

Cortez holstered her needler. “Let’s see how the rest of the day goes.”

Igon threw his arms around Cortez’s legs and squeezed tight. “You’ve made me the happiest robot in the galaxy!”

“That wasn’t really a ‘yes’, robot.” Cortez pried him off. “First thing’s first. We’ve still got to get to Otulak. If we can.”

“Leave that to me, my sweet fleshy confection.” Igon snapped a claw at Dag. “You – grab some tools and come with me. That engine’s not gonna fix itself.”

Dag looked at Cortez for direction. She gave him a nod and he waddled to catch up with Igon, already merrily making his way down the path between the junk piles towards the aft engine block.

“We’re gonna trust him now?” Loy asked, watching the robot and Halgorian disappear behind a junk pile. “Just like that?”

“He’s programmed male,” Cortez said, “and I just dangled the prospect, however extremely remote, of sex at him. Yeah, we can trust him.”

“Are you for real?”

Cortez looked at her robomechanical arm, down at her own boobs, and around at her own ass. “About eighty percent. Give or take. –Well, let’s go see how bad we’re screwed. Come on.”

Cortez sauntered off into the junk field. Loy stood there staring after her a moment before shrugging, and following.

As their footsteps faded, Igon-2’s three eyes lit up, one at a time. Lying on his back, he lifted his head and looked around, confirming he was alone. He sat up and poked a finger around the edges of the still smoking hole in his torso. “Oh, that was just downright rude,” he said quietly to himself. “Someone’s going to have to pay for that…”

TEN

With a bright green flash,
Patrol Rocketship 8724
exited superluminal space and entered the Otulak system, dead in the middle of a busy trade lane crossroads crowded by ships of all sizes and type – yet all bristling with weaponry.

Rikki gaped at the video of ships whizzing past in all directions in the bridge’s main CRT. “Umm, that’s a lot of pirates.”

“Not just pirates,” 8724 noted. “Otulak is a major staging and recreation hub for all types of criminal professions.”