“Oh crap,” Isellia muttered, as she saw the beast rear back on its large hind legs.
Just when the monster had crouched back all the way, its jaws open in anticipation, the robot fired its ROU, sending a laser blast in the direction of its head. The beast, which had been completely concentrated on moving forward, was caught by surprise and the force of the blast knocked it on its side as it lunged, sending piles of discarded spaceship parts flying in a cloud above the junkyard. The beast skidded on its side, twisting its feet over its head as it came to a stop left of the robot. It writhed on the ground in shock, but quickly regained its senses and started working itself back on its feet.
Isellia wasted no time, grabbing Joey’s hand and dragging him forward. “Now’s our chance,” she said, and the two were off before the monster regained its footing.
They hadn’t been running long before Ayuuk met them running back the other way.
“Here,” she said, indicating with her head the intended direction, in the manner of Sasugans.
“Sounds good to me,” Isellia said, dragging Joey in the direction Ayuuk pointed.
But Joey broke free of her grasp and stood his ground. “What about the robot? We can’t just leave him!”
“Yes we can!” Isellia yelled. “Move it!”
Joey turned to go back. “Not without robot!” Joey yelled, but then stopped. A large metal object was flying directly at him. “Robot?”
What happened next was a flash that, even after the fact, Joey had trouble remembering. Later on he would recall, with some uncertainty, that Ayuuk grabbed on to him, and he remembered tumbling to the ground to avoid the crashing, tooth-marked robot, and perhaps tripping, or jumping, he wasn't sure; but no one else, including Ayuuk and Isellia, would ever buy that story again. The truth of the matter, if there ever was such a truth, would never be known. Or rather, the truth is what is remembered, and forever, as far as anyone is concerned, Joey elevated his status to that of a hero that day in the junkyard, whether deserved or not, in the mind of two young women.
As Joey shook his head, he looked up to see Isellia sprawled on the other side of him, Ayuuk somewhat underneath him, and the robot laying in a heap against a wall of junk, saw-like tooth marks scaring his now dusty chassis. Its green light still flashed and bleeped as always, and Joey realized the damage must be almost entirely external.
He looked down and noticed that Ayuuk was staring at him, more intently than she had ever dared. “You save me,” she said, in a voice more confident than usual, though still somehow small.
“I… I didn’t,” Joey stammered.
“We’re not saved yet,” Isellia said, springing to her feet. The robot was already recovered and on its feet, ROU trained in the ever-growing stomping of the junkasaur, which looked like it was gearing up for another lunge. “Let’s go!”
***
Joey, Ayuuk and Isellia were already scrambling in the direction Ayuuk had pointed out when the monster arrived at their location, met with blasts from the robot's ROU. It was now meeting them head on, and the lasers did little to damage the monster's chassis, other than scorch the rust that coated it. It jolted the monster back, but the junkasaur was aware of the blasts and adjusted its balance so it stayed on its feet. The element of surprise the robot had on the first attack was now gone. The robot could only show its advance.
"Robot!" Joey yelled, as Isellia dragged him away. She grabbed him roughly by his shirt, bringing his wide-eyed face inches away from hers.
"Listen to me. We need to get out of here, now! That thing can take a lot more than we can. It will catch up, and if we stay here we're all dead. Now go!" Joey barely had time to nod assent as Isellia shoved him in the direction of Ayuuk, who waited up ahead nervously. Soon they were both giving chase to the young Sasugan.
Despite her frail appearance, Ayuuk proved surprisingly nimble, navigating the piles of junk with the ease of an expert mountain climber. Isellia and Joey huffed and puffed as they followed her darting, quick form, struggling to keep the pace.
Just as they were about to collapse in exhaustion at the effort, Ayuuk stopped before one particular junk heap. Joey and Isellia both stopped, breathing hard with their hands on their knees. Isellia kept looking back in the direction they'd come, as the blasts from the robot’s ROU, now too far away to be heard, lit the sky dimly in the distance.
"Here," Ayuuk pointed, indicating the heap they had stopped in front of. She stood proudly, seeming to search Joey's face for approval.
"Here? What are you talking about? There's nothing there! Come on, we gotta go," Isellia said, nearly recovering her breath as she struck out.
"No, wait," Joey said, looking closer at the junk heap. "I think I see what she means."
Ayuuk smiled and bounced slightly up and down unconsciously, as Sasugans are wont to do when they become happy. Joey approached the heap and noticed the door of a freighter, though all but a small, human-sized hole concealed it from view; the rest surrounded by cables, braces and other random parts.
Isellia noticed now, too, and walked back to the party. "Where does this lead?" she asked Ayuuk, who still appeared somewhat intimidated by her.
"Outside," she said. Before Isellia could ask how that could possibly be, considering they were far away from the main wall, Ayuuk had pushed some unseen button and was already scrambling into the hole through the freighter door.
Joey and Isellia looked at each other briefly.
"Well, I guess this is our way out," Isellia said. "Climb in."
But Joey was looking back at laser-lit sky behind them. "Will he be okay?" Joey asked in manner mature for his age.
"It'll be fine!"
"How do you know?" Joey looked at Isellia pleadingly.
"We were the problem, Joey. We were slowing it down. Once it doesn't have to protect us, it can do whatever it has to. Now come on, how many times do I have to say this?"
Joey paused a moment.
"How are we going to explain this to Porter?"
Isellia sighed, exasperated. "I don't know. I'll make something up? Come on, come on, come on!"
Before Joey could protest any further, Isellia was already climbing into the hole. Joey followed quickly behind.
Chapter 6
A single beam of moonlight shone through the tall, plain window of Underow's 45th floor office/home. The moonlight highlighted Underow’s features in a waning crescent, a spotlight in the otherwise dark room. The dull glow emanating from his computer terminal cast a pale light on his face. Like most nights, Underow toiled away at a computer screen in relative darkness. Sleep came only occasionally and involuntarily, Underow nodding off at his desk periodically before waking up and continuing. Periodically he would pause for a quick hyper-shower, nourishment packet and caffeine supplement — coffee was a luxury of higher classes — before continuing his slavish toil.
The 45th floor is about halfway up Manager Plaza 354, amongst some of the taller buildings in the district. Those buildings rise from the tangle of undercurrent like black monoliths of commerce, its defiance of gravity a symbol of commercial power over the natural world. There were more than 900 such buildings, the latest built only days before.
Underow spent years climbing to the office level in which he sat, ceaselessly typing, filing, writing reports, much of which will never be looked at again. The presence of any kind of error would be examined, however, with utmost scrutiny. Errors are not tolerated in Company C, and Underow wouldn’t be where he was if he’d made any.
He once transposed a pair of co-ordinates. The number swap would have cost him dearly but for an alliance he’d made earlier that particular year. He’d caught an accounting error of someone beneath him, a simple decimal in the wrong place. The young man was bright, ambitious, Underow saw, and bargained the information for a favor. It was a win-win for both, Underow helping the young man make the fix silently, behind closed doors.
That favor turned out to be crucial as Underow continued his climb to the
top.
The top keeps becoming the bottom, in a sense. One can only be assigned as high as 99, before being promoted to the next building in sequential order, being moved then into the next building, starting at the first floor. All buildings lead to one central building.: The coveted HQ. Managers packed lightly — moves were frequent, unexpected, and often with little explanation. Underow kept a bag packed in case.
So it was that Underow sat, late into the night of a planet with hardly a day to begin with — just cold, overcast gray in place of the black of night — not daring nor wishing to rest, lest the pile of work become unmanageable. The numbers became a kind of meditation, punctuated by an extremely calculating attention to detail.
The slightest of clicks broke the utter silence of Underow's numerical enchantment. He peeked over his terminal to see the silhouette of a single high-heeled boot emerging from one such concealing shadow.
"Hm, it's you," Underow said, quickly tapping the button on his workstation that conceals and secures any data from non-Company C eyes. “Losing your touch?”
A slight, feminine chuckle wafted from the empty shadows. “You say that every time," a low, sensual feminine voice purred. "Nevermind the fact that I've been watching you for an hour."
"Of course," Underow says, his hand nervously tapping as he calculated how much time he was losing to the conversation. His finger twitched, resisting the temptation to click the security screen away and work while he talked. His calculating mind knew the penalty for compromising secured documents is much worse than a few missed minutes of work. "You got the memo?"
The boot disappeared into the shadow, and Underow heard the pacing of her heels, something he knew could only be meant for his ears. Underow never knew the assassin to leave the slightest trace of a sound that wasn't intentional.
"I did. I can only assume the price is some kind of joke. And not a terribly amusing one.”
Underow flinched, anticipating a pricing negotiation that would further keep him from his work. "Why?" he sighed.
"Are you aware exactly what you are asking me to hunt?"
"Not my business. The price is set by the company. Take it.”
"This is an insult."
"No, it's business. Take it or we give it to someone else. I'm very busy.”
"You're always very busy. And you have no one better than I.”
Underow heard another sigh, one that he also knew was intended for his ears. "I can handle the mark, but not at this price. I've handled average smugglers for more than this."
Underow rubbed his temple, agitated at resisting the desire to work during this needless conversation. “There have been cutbacks. Cost-benefit analysis says we’re simply paying too much for these type of services.” Underow leaned back in his chair. He didn't fear the assassin, because he knew she would only kill for money, and wouldn't lift a finger without a price. “Again, not my business.”
“Is that so?”
Underow once again heard the deliberate clicking of black stiletto heels, and was taken aback when the assassin emerged from the shadows; he had only seen her once before, and once again he was struck with how beautiful she was; her long, black hair flowed behind her; straight-cut bangs hung over her forehead. As she walked toward him, the moonlight highlighted her cheekbone and lips in a way that nearly awakened something inside that had been almost forgotten. Suddenly his work nearly left his mind for the first time in several years as she strode across the room.
He suddenly became aware, as she sauntered toward him, the legend that one never sees an assassin from her clan and lives to tell about it. He’d seen her once before, and lived to tell about it (but of course hadn’t dared to tell a soul), but that didn’t stop his heart from beating its way up his esophagus.
She stopped at the foot of his desk, leaning her long, slender figure over it so that her face stopped inches from Underow's pasty complexion, her dark hair brushing against his hollowed cheeks. His heart beat faster and he swallowed hard as he gazed into her large, beautiful eyes and her full lips aroused his nearly forgotten carnal feelings.
"Listen, I'll start following the mark," she said, her voice soft, a bone-chilling whisper. "But I won't act until the price I sent you—" a message popped up on his monitor at that moment "—is paid. Please forward that to the 'higher-ups.'"
She gazed at him a moment longer, to let her point sink in, then eased her slender figure back up, turning with impossibly fluidity, back into the moonlight. The silhouette cast by her jet black, form-fitting outfit left little of her figure to the imagination, and Underow remained mesmerized as she faded into the shadow, her heels becoming silent once again.
Underow took more than a moment to regain his composure and pass along her message. He would have to push himself even harder to make up all the lost time.
***
Joey sat staring at a plate of food utterly foreign to him. For one thing, the little black bead-like morsels in the side dish seemed to be moving, wiggling in a manner that seemed unnatural for something he might eat, and it had been fairly well ingrained into his psyche, despite his young age, that food was just not supposed to move. He picked up his fork, and stabbed with half-hearted resolve to eat the little dark dish, only to have it move, quelling his appetite as he returned the fork to its side.
Isellia, the robot and Joey sat in a small diner on a high floor of one of the many buildings in the Sasugan station. It was the day after their narrow escape from the junkyard, and little was said about the escapade. Porter had seemed none the wiser, and had been too engaged in ship business to question them too much about their whereabouts. Isellia had taken them out for a walk, and asked if Joey had wanted to eat. He had, but moving food wasn’t what he had in mind.
Isellia noticed Joey’s reluctance with some amusement. "It's only kibib. Eat it, it's good." She lifted the last of her kibib to her mouth, using an ishah, the standard utensil used by Sasugans, and chewed with a grin. "Mmm, I missed this food!" she said, rubbing her tummy.
He sat across from Isellia, the robot next to him in the colorful dinner. Behind the robot through a large plate-glass window he could see the Sasugan station's skyline (from 55 floors above street-level, with the planet itself a ghostly globe haunting the sky. Isellia seemed happy, he thought.
"Do you think Porter knows," Joey asked, staring at his kibib as it periodically writhed on his plate.
"Nah," she said after a pause, replacing her kibib and imbibing the bright red tea accompanying her meal. "We covered pretty good. I think he bought our story."
"Why'd you have to blame robot, though?" Joey took a drink of the tea, which he found he rather liked, though it seemed odd to him at first. “Just doesn’t seem fair.”
"Look, it fit the story, and the robot isn’t going to get in any trouble, okay? If Porter knew what we were really up to, he'd totally spazz? Do you want that?"
Joey looked at the robot, which of course required no nourishment and looked odd sitting at a diner booth.
“I know, but a malfunction?”
“He’ll forget about it,” Isellia waved dismissively, downing a square cup of some liquid Joey had nearly spit out when he first tried it. Oddly, by this point he’d grown accustomed to it, and it became the most palatable thing in front of him. “After all, you ‘fixed it,’ right?”
"Is it okay that robot's here, anyway?" He noticed many of the diners, especially the Sasugans, stared at the robot, turning away quickly when Joey noticed them.
"Oh yeah," she laughed. "If anything, it'll make us more popular. The ones you see staring are staring out of jealousy. Sasugans love robots. Most of the ones Company C sold, they were bought by Sasugans." She drank some more tea, nearly polishing it off. Joey, even at his age, noticed how out of place her manners were in the diner; the Sasugans were so quiet and drank very slowly compared to her loudness and rapidity of movement. "They probably wonder why we have one, though." She turned suddenly, catching a Sasugan staring at her. "What?" she as
ked in a mocking tone as the Sasugan looked back to his plate, startled.
"Is it kind of weird being stared at like that, robot?" Joey asked, ignoring Isellia's rudeness toward the Sasugan.
"Sasugans do not represent a threat," the robot replied.
"Take more than that to get through that metal brain," Isellia said, poking at the robot’s brain-casing with her index finger. It made a "tink, tink" noise that amused her.
"Robot's not the only one..." Joey muttered.
"What was that?” Isellia asked, her gaze peering into Joey's retinas.
"Nothing," Joey said, reacting much like the staring Sasugan did to Isellia's challenging gaze.
Isellia seemed content with his response, taking the last of her tea in one huge gulp, leaving the last florescent green drops on the corners of her pert mouth. A party of six could all order different colored tea, it comes in so many varieties. “Alright, finish your tea! Time to hit the streets."
Joey drank his tea and, almost without thinking, took a forkful of kibib into his mouth. Surprise at the oddness was soon replaced with the realization that kibib is actually pretty tasty.
"Yeah, not bad huh? Shoulda tried it sooner! Now, we got more stuff to buy!” Isellia threw some credits on the counter and strode to the door, as Joey grabbed a few more forkfuls and polished off his tea. He looked around at the other diners, almost apologetic for Isellia's coarse manners, before following her out the door with the robot in tow. He knew better than to lose sight of her for long in the densely crowded streets. Trying to find her would be almost as difficult as keeping up with her as she browsed the streets in every XR parts store they could find, for nearly the entire simulated day.
***
Scouting report
22CF9919
Sasugan station
- 37:89... Target subjects companions entered XR Funtio (XR fun) parts shop. Pink-haired teenager followed by younger pre-teen male and robot. Pink-haired girl walked faster, browsed entire store several times. Boy wandered aimlessly, and robot followed closely. Pink-haired girl made two purchases, pocketed several unpaid-for items. Boy didn't seem to notice.
Robot Awareness: Special Edition Page 8
