Cruiseliner Hades 7: A Lost 77 Worlds Tale

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by Craig Martelle


  Gunny headed toward the large man blocking the stairs. Diego tried to look inconspicuous, but loomed a head and shoulders above everyone else in the room. He settled for studying the Wyatt Earp display.

  When Josh and Squatch entered, the bartender sprang into action, producing a shotgun and pointing it at the man-beast. “Get out of here you mangy beast!” the man bellowed. Josh stepped up, taking care not to get into the line of fire. He wasn’t yet ready to give his life for his fellows.

  “Hold on! He’s with us,” Josh said, holding his hands up as he tried to calm the bartender.

  “I have no gripe with you, good bartender,” the man-beast said calmly, gauging the power of the old scatter gun.

  “This is Juneau! You can’t come in here looking like a bear. Those things kill people around these parts.” The barrel dropped slightly as the bartender reconsidered his position. The man-beast didn’t like where the gun was pointed.

  The Ranger stepped between the two. “Tell me what I need to do to make this right.”

  “Ten credits ought to take care of it.” The bartender put the shotgun behind the bar and held out a hand. Josh pulled ten credits and dropped it into the dirty palm.

  “Can I get a beer?” Josh asked with a big smile.

  “Sure, that’ll be five credits.”

  He scowled as he dug out more coins. Diego bit his lip.

  “I like beer,” Squatch said pulling his lips back as he dog-smiled at the bartender.

  “Ten credits for a bucket.”

  “Perfect.” Squatch dug into the single pouch on the one belt that rode low around his waist. He carefully extracted the coins using the tips of two claws, and deposited them on the counter.

  The bartender took no care as he slopped the beer into a bucket.

  No one noticed that Lucas and Buck had entered. They slipped into the chairs at an empty table by the entrance.

  “My good sir,” the Ranger said, trying to get the bartender’s attention. The man-beast stuck his muzzle into the bucket and was noisily gulping the beer. The din of the bar died down as the whirr of tracks sounded on the wood floor. The scientist stood tall and proud next to the robot. The patrons watched them, and they watched back.

  The people at the tables seemed interested, but no one showed any sign of hostility. Gunny’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the small crowd. Buck and Lucas watched closely, shaking their heads ever so slightly when they made eye contact with the sergeant.

  “Can I get your attention?” Josh said loudly into the silence of the two groups watching each other. Gunny glared at him. “We’re wondering if anyone would be interested in working at the factory. Good pay and good benefits. If you think that could be something for you, meet us outside so we can talk.”

  Chairs scuffed on the floor planks as people turned their backs on the Ranger and got back to what they were doing.

  Joshua turned to the bartender. “You have to know all the people in here. Tell me, who works at the factory and who would be a good candidate to work at the factory? I’ll make it worth your while…”

  “I think you should probably leave now. And take him with you.” The man-beast belched into the empty bucket before licking the insides one last time.

  “By all that’s holy, just because you look like a bear doesn’t mean you have to act like one!” The Ranger drained his beer and slammed the mug onto the counter before heading out.

  “What?” Squatch asked. “Why do you have to be so hurtful with your words? Good beer, huh?” The man-beast lumbered toward the door.

  The serving girl swiveled and maneuvered between the tables as she brought beer to the rest of the party. The robot rolled up to the bar and tapped a mechanical hand on the wood.

  “I’d like some of your higher percentage alcohol, please.”

  “What? Are you ordering a drink? I’ve never known your kind to buy booze.”

  “You have met others like me? When? Where are they now?”

  “No…” the bartender stammered, moving to the other end of the bar where Doctor Carroll held up a finger. He acknowledged her. “Nice suit. Do you role play?”

  “What? No. This helps me do my job. I’m a scientist. This is the Mark 3 Skin Suit,” she explained.

  “Are you willing to sell that? I could make it worth your while.” The bartender studied the joints and creases of the suit.

  “No. I need this suit and I don’t think it would fit you.”

  “It would fit my lady friend, if you know what I mean.” The man winked at her.

  “I’m sure that I don’t know what you mean.” The scientist stepped away from the bar.

  The bartender leaned forward to get a better view of the suit. “You said this was the Mark 3. Maybe you can get me some Mark 2, the older model? I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  Gunny continued to chat with the guard at the bottom of the steps. He seemed to be making headway as the man nodded and smiled.

  “Of course, they’re the older models, so you’ll give me a discount, say seventy-five percent?” Doctor Carroll raised one eyebrow as she looked the bartender. “Okay, fifty percent, but I can’t stay in business if you can’t deliver at fifty percent. Can you have them tomorrow?”

  “No,” the doctor replied, deciding to play along, “but probably soon. Ten suits at fifty percent off. I think I can do that.” She never bothered to mention a price. A discount from a ridiculous starting price resulted in a nonsensical deal, but the bartender was all smiles.

  “On the house,” he said, pushing a second beer toward her. She hadn’t taken more than a single sip from the first one.

  Lucas and Buck sat at their tables, five credits lighter each for the beers in their hands. The looked over the top of the glass mugs, starting to wonder what they were doing in the bar.

  “I would like a glass of liquor, please,” the robot insisted. Doctor Carroll waved the bartender away from her. He reluctantly strolled to the other end of the bar.

  “Ten credits,” the bartender declared. The robot slapped the money on the bar in a move too fast for the eye to follow. The bartender made the credits disappear before he poured the robot a drink.

  Doctor Carroll watched, her curiosity piqued as to what Andy was going to do with the booze. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gunny slip the guard a handful of credits and head up the stairs. Diego tried to join him, but the guard stopped him and told him to sit down.

  ***

  “That sucked!” Josh declared.

  “Let it go,” the man beast encouraged. “You are very charismatic. It gets my heart racing, truly.”

  The Ranger looked into the man-beast’s black eyes. “I think there’s something wrong with you.”

  “Of course. Isn’t there something wrong with all of us?” the bear-like creature philosophized, putting a paw under his chin as he tried to look thoughtful.

  Joshua turned and strolled away, waving at Squatch to follow. They walked around the Red Dog Saloon, finding two other doors, but both appeared to be locked and little used.

  They returned to the front of the saloon. “Screw it. I’m going back in.”

  Joshua strode boldly through the open doors and into the saloon. The patrons took no notice of him or the man-beast. Lucas signaled that Gunny had gone upstairs. Joshua made a beeline for the guard at the bottom of the steps, running into the man’s outstretched hand.

  “I need to go upstairs.”

  “What you need to do is buy yourself a drink and sit your ass down.” The guard pointed to the table next to the stairs where Diego was uncomfortably sitting. “Only patrons allowed in the bar.”

  “But I was a patron. I’m out fifteen credits because of this place.”

  “That was then. You left. This is now. Buy a drink or I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  “I really don’t care what you ask me to do,” the Ranger replied, sliding his hand onto the hilt of his short sword.

&nb
sp; Doctor Carroll leaned close the bartender. He mirrored her movement, smiling warmly as he got close. “You have to know someone who works at the factory. Let me know. I won’t tell anyone,” she whispered toward his ear.

  He nodded toward a couple sitting at a table by themselves, nursing the last few sips of their beer. The bartender faced away from the Scientist. She carried her two beers to the table and placed them in front of the couple. “Maybe we could have a few words in private?” she suggested in a low voice that didn’t carry.

  The two nodded almost imperceptibly.

  “Outside, when you can.” Doctor Carroll stood and walked away.

  ***

  “Excuse me, sir,” Gunny held his hands up to show that he didn’t have a weapon.

  The balcony of the Red Dog Saloon was an open area overlooking the floor below. A number of tables were placed away from the railing. A person sat in the shadows playing with a Colt Peacekeeper on the table before him.

  “How the hell did you get up here?” the man bellowed. He was short and rotund, with a scarred face and a gray shock of hair on the top of his head. He looked angry. “What the hell do you want?”

  “I’ve been around and know how things work. We’re here looking for the people who are causing all the grief in town.” Gunny turned to show his semi-automatic pistol to affirm his position as a non-Traditionalist. “We’re also looking to recruit additional hands to work in the factory. For every person we recruit, we’ll give you ten percent, whether we find them here or someplace else. I figure most of the money in Juneau will flow through here sooner or later anyway.”

  The man waved at Gunny to take a seat across from him. The sergeant sat down, taking care to keep his hands visible at all times until he laced his fingers together and rested them on the felt-covered tabletop.

  “My name is Muttley, and I’m the proprietor of this fine establishment.” The man’s eyes appraised the soldier before him while resting a hand nonchalantly on the butt of the revolver.

  Fine establishment, Gunny thought, feeling the dust and grit beneath his hands.

  “What do we need to do cement this deal?”

  “Buy a bottle of my best liquor. Turn it in once you start paying my cut and you’ll get your money back.”

  “I just need to know where can we find people to recruit? I don’t think your establishment is the right place for what we need to do.”

  “I concur. Don’t do that here.”

  The sergeant pursed his lips and clenched his jaw, wondering how much Muttley had heard from the earlier conversations below. Gunny strained and could make out the separate conversations.

  “I will inform the others and we’ll clear out, after I buy a bottle of your best.”

  “If I were you - and you didn’t hear this from me – I’d go to the State Capitol Building or Centennial Hall. That’s where most people make their homes, but you’ll have to catch them outside as they go to and fro. They won’t talk to you where the others can hear. There’s a lot of distrust. You never know around here. Keep your heads down. A group like yours is begging for trouble.”

  “From whom?”

  “Don’t think me a fool. Take your people and go.”

  Gunny bowed his head and slowly stood, before backing a few steps, and then turning and heading for the stairs, taking them one at a time going slowly to show how calm and under control he was.

  The Ranger sulked as he sipped at his beer. Diego stood quickly, almost knocking over his chair. Joshua stood as well.

  “Thanks, boss,” Gunny told the guard. When the sergeant made eye contact with the two men standing at the table, he pointed toward the exit with a quick nod while turning toward the bar.

  “Muttley told me to buy a good bottle of booze to seal a deal.”

  “I’m pretty sure he didn’t say that. You want our best?”

  “I don’t remember him saying to buy the best.”

  The bartender rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t seal the deal with the average stuff. Fifty credits, Jack.”

  Gunny dug the remaining credits from his pocket. Thirty five.

  He waved Diego over. “I need fifteen credits.”

  The tall man chewed the inside of his lip as he thought about it. “I guess that’s okay, but I want them back.”

  “As soon as we return the bottle.” Gunny looked at what the bartender handed him. “Are you sure?”

  “That’s why he doesn’t seal deals with the everyday hooch.”

  The liquid in the bottle looked a sickly brown with floating debris. Gunny couldn’t tell the difference between the bottle in his hands and the one from which the bartender had poured the robot’s drink. It sat untouched before the mechanical creation, who watched without comment.

  “Time to go,” Joshua told them all from where he stood by the door. Doctor Carroll hurried out, followed closely by Lucas and Buck. Gunny waited for the robot to deposit the drink on a nearby table where a group was playing cards. Empty shotglasses suggested they were drinking what the robot delivered.

  “Enjoy!” Andy told them before rotating his body one hundred and eighty degrees and rolling toward the door.

  Joshua scowled one last time at the bar. He noticed that they hadn’t made Squatch get another drink while he shambled about.

  I don’t like this town or these people, he thought.

  Chapter 3

  “What did you learn?” Joshua asked before the group stopped walking away from the Red Dog.

  “That if we want to recruit people we need to go to the capitol building or Centennial Hall. That’s where they sleep, but we can’t talk to them inside. No one will talk within earshot of anyone else.”

  “Pssst,” someone called from around the corner of the Red Dog.

  “I need to talk with these two,” Doctor Carroll said before walking away. Joshua pointed at Lucas to go with her, watch her back.

  Gunny looked down his nose at Joshua. “Of course, none of them want to talk in the open. I think we learned that part already.” Josh waved dismissively.

  “Looking at this from a military perspective, our efforts to recruit people are useless if we cannot guarantee their security. We need to find these Traditionalists and eliminate them. Sanction without mercy.”

  “I’d still like to go to the factory and see what they have to tell us. They might be able to shed some light on the situation.”

  Buck stepped up. “I feel like I’m not contributing.”

  “Your time will come, I have no doubt,” Lucas told the medic, slapping the man on the back. Lucas jingled as he walked with everything he was carrying. Weapons on top of weapons. He looked smug as he flexed his muscles reveling in being outdoors where he had more room to maneuver.

  The robot rolled close to Gunny. “Do you want me to carry the bottle for you?”

  “Nothing personal, but this represents the last of my credits. I’m going to keep it close at hand.”

  “As you wish. I could test fire my railgun at the side of this derelict,” the robot offered.

  “You what?” Joshua interrupted. Gunny gave the robot the stink eye. “No shooting that scary thing unless it’s life or death.”

  “I think you’re prejudiced against robots.”

  “It’s nothing personal, as Gunny told you. I don’t want to die when you blow up. That railgun doesn’t look safe.”

  “I assure you the risk is minimal,” the robot said in his unnaturally happy tone.

  “No firing the railgun unless we’re dead or dying. You can’t kill us twice.”

  “I find this most disappointing. I need time by myself to contemplate life on the tree of woe.” The robot rolled away, stopping between the group and the derelict cruise ship.

  “Tree of woe?” Gunny wondered.

  ***

  “I’m glad you were able to talk with me. Thank you,” Doctor Carroll said, appreciative of the couple’s willingness to join her outside.

  “We work at the factory, but you can’t ask
in public,” one of them whispered. “Anyone who works there or would even think about working there will be a target.”

  “The Traditionalists,” Doctor Carroll said knowingly. “Are there that many of them?”

  “It doesn’t take many to keep us all afraid. Your people probably shouldn’t be standing out there. The Traditionalists live on that cruise ship - well, some of them, anyway. It’s rumored their leader holds the reins pretty tightly on those who make that ship their home. There’s no doubt they’re watching your group right now, planning what to do, where you’ll least expect to get hit.”

  “I’ll pass that along. We have people who are good at that kind of stuff. I’m a scientist. Like you, I appreciate technology and can’t get enough of it. Can you tell me about the factory? What’s going on out there?”

  “We’re low on manpower. If we only had another twenty workers, then we could build one individual flight pod every month.”

  “What’s holding you back, beside the manpower?”

  “Let me describe the process, which I’m sure you’ll appreciate as a scientist. Automated trucks deliver raw materials from a deep mine nearby. A smelter starts the process, breaking down the ores into usable compounds, that are refined until they become the micro-components, assembled into modules that are then put together to become the pods. Humans fill spots that the robots can’t, and the robots do jobs that we can’t do, like maintenance on the machinery. But the pods aren’t working. We have the first couple finished, but they won’t run.”

  “Sabotage?” the doctor asked.

  The couple looked at each other before nodding. “We think so.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for how helpful you’ve been.”

  “We could use another beer,” the woman said, holding out her hand. Doctor Carroll hesitated before deciding the information had been worth ten credits. She put the credits in the woman’s hand.

  They hurried away, reentering the saloon through a back door that wasn’t as locked as it had appeared. Lucas smiled. “I’d say that was worth it,” he told her. Together they rejoined the group where Doctor Carroll recounted everything she’d been told.

 

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