by Andre, Marc
I wasn’t as eager as Allen to let go of the mystery of the sealed-off grate. Someone had clearly taken extra efforts to conceal the contents of the room behind it. I was intrigued, wondering what needed to be hidden so badly behind the piece of sheet metal. “Cotton, see if you can pry off the grate!” I ordered
“No don’t!” Allen countermanded. “Come on guys, let’s stick to the mission.”
“Yeah, okay.” I agreed. I knew that if I came across as too nosey, Ellen would never believe my lie about how we happened upon those perfect boobs by mistake.
The next grate down, Cotton asked, “Is this the one?”
“Yes,” Allen said, “go ahead and remove the grate carefully.”
Far from careful, Cotton let the grate fall into the utility room where it landed with a loud clang.
“No wait,” Allen said, “don’t drop in just yet,” but it was too late. With a thud and an “oomph,” Cotton hit the floor.
“Ah man, it’s dark in here.” Cotton said.
“Let me change to infrared spectrum. We’ll be able to see the room from the heat reflected off your body,” Allen said. The image on the big screen became much brighter, but there was something wrong about the perspective. It appeared as if Cotton was holding his head to the floor. Also, Cotton writhed around constantly, even when asleep, but the image remained perfectly still.
“Cotton,” I said, “where are Allen’s glasses?”
“They fell off,” he replied. “The ear pieces were digging into me so I bent them up a little.”
“Can you see them?” I asked.
“No,” Cotton said, “it’s pitch black.”
“Get on all fours and crawl on the ground,” Allen commanded. “That way you won’t trip and fall.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Now, just go in a straight line until you hit a wall. We know my glasses are near a corner, so we should be able to tell you how to find them when you come into view.”
“There’s someone in here!” Cotton shrieked.
“Draw your knife!” I said in a panic. Ellen raised her eyebrows, wondering why I would react so strongly.
“Come on, settle down guys.” Allen said calmly. “There’s no one there.”
“I feel an arm!” Cotton cried.
“Maybe it’s a dead body.” I suggested stupidly.
“No,” Allen said calmly, “Cotton would have said something about the smell.” What Allen said made perfect sense.
“I’m telling you there’s someone here.” Cotton said, his voice quivering with fear.
“Sit tight, Cotton,” Allen said calmly. “Let me redirect the image.”
Allen pressed a key and zoomed in on a glimmer near the corner of the far wall. The image magnified one hundred fold, revealing the detailed reflection off the wall’s smooth surface. Cotton sat on his haunches, his head drawn in to his shoulders for protection. Sure enough, I could make out the unmistakable contours of a human hand just beyond Cotton’s fingertips.
“What is that?” I asked.
“That’s what we are looking for,” Allen replied, projecting his voice calmly. “Cotton, what you felt was the limb of an anthropometric robot. It’s turned off, of course, and its battery is dead, so there’s no need for alarm. Now let’s find those glasses.”
Following a few commands from Allen, Cotton located the glasses and returned them to his face. Allen projected the infrared image onto my brother’s retinas so that he could see in the dark.
“Wow, that’s a robot?” Cotton said with disbelief. On the big screen, I could see an image of a longhaired woman lying on her back. She wore a halter top and a long out of style faux leather mini-skirt.
“Is that a ho-bot?” I asked.
“Uh huh!” Allen said, grinning.
“I heard those were banned.” I said.
“Yes, they were made illegal about fifteen years ago.” Allen said. “They’ve been known to cause psychological issues among persons who use them. I think this one was stashed into storage and forgotten around the time the ban was implemented.”
“You mean men used to do it with that thing?” Ellen said in disbelief.
“Some women too,” Allen said. “They come with interchangeable parts you know.”
“Eww gross!” Ellen cried, disgusted.
“Wow, it feels so real,” Cotton said, squeezing the ho-bot’s forearm.
“Don’t touch it!” Ellen commanded. “You’ll catch a disease.”
Allen chuckled. “Even the first generation ho-bots were coated with tantalum fluoride nano particles — very much bactericidal and viral static. It would be next to impossible to catch a disease from a ho-bot, even one that was poorly maintained and never cleaned.”
“Eww gross!” Ellen cried again.
“You knew it was here?” I asked Allen.
“Uh huh, I came across it last voyage when I was looking for parts to construct that deck you broke across Jeff’s face. That was before the crew sealed over the door by mistake.”
“You hit Jeff in the face?” Ellen asked.
“Yes, he did,” Allen said, coming to my defense, “and Jeff really deserved it too.”
Ellen knew enough about Jeff and the world of boys to comprehend the injustice of bullying, so she didn’t accuse me of any further misdeeds.
“So Allen,” I couldn’t help but ask, “you didn’t… do it with the ho-bot did you?”
“No, of course not!” Ellen cried. “He would never!”
Allen frowned. “Um... well… err...”
“No, you didn’t?” Ellen cried in disbelief.
Allen grinned. “No, I didn’t. I just thought I’d put on a show to see if I could get a reaction.”
“Well, don’t. Thinking of you and her —” Ellen looked up at the vid screen and corrected herself, “you and that thing! It’s disgusting.”
“Honestly, I didn’t even know what it was when I found it.” Allen said. “I wondered why someone would bother to anthropomorphize a robot so accurately into the female form. A few weeks later I came across an old maintenance manual in the information archives that explained what it was.”
Cotton picked up the ho-bot. “Hey, she’s pretty light!”
“Yes, that way there’s less risk of injuring a patron when she’s on top.” Allen said. “It was explained in the manual.”
“Eww gross!” Ellen said again. “Please, no more mental images like that while I’m still in the room.”
We had found what we were looking for, but we still had to get Cotton and the loot back home.
“Crap,” Cotton said, looking at the open vent well above his reach.
“That’s why I told you not to drop into the room,” Allen said. “That’s also why I had you bring the cord.”
There were a couple of boxes in the utility room, but even when Cotton stacked them and jumped, he couldn’t reach the vent. He was just too short.
“How are you going to get him out of there?” Ellen asked, concerned.
“We need Hammond.” I said. “He’s really strong and could easily hoist Cotton up if we tied the cord around his waist.”
“Couldn’t you do that?” Allen asked, pleading.
I could have performed the task myself, but I didn’t want Hammond to miss out on the ho-bot, knowing that he, unlike Ellen, could fully appreciate it. “No,” I lied. “I’m not strong enough. It’s gotta be Hammond.”
Allen was silent for a while. “Okay, can you go ask him?”
“I suppose I could,” I said, “and I’m sure he’d come. Or you could send Ellen, but this is your operation, and if you asked him yourself you’d find out Hammond isn’t that bad a guy.”
“No!” Allen said. He wasn’t willing to swallow his pride and ask the big kid a favor.
“Anton’s right,” Ellen said. “I used to think Hammond was a real creep, but he can actually be pretty sweet.”
Allen groaned. “Okay, what do I do?”
“Just tell him y
ou need his help.” Ellen suggested.
“Make sure you tell him he’s doing you a favor.” I said. “If you play it off like you only need his help because Cotton’s in trouble, he’ll see right through you and refuse until Ellen or I ask him.”
“He’d never do me a favor.” Allen said, exacerbated.
“Yes he will.” Ellen said.
“Just tell him you need his strength.” I suggested.
Allen sighed with resignation. He pulled himself away from his computer and put on his glasses. I gave him directions to Hammond’s living unit, and he was gone. I was left alone with Ellen. I wasn’t sure if she was still mad at me, and I knew the last thing I should do is call attention to my peeping Cotton escapade with an unsolicited protest of defense. I ignored her and whistled to myself off key.
“You, okay little bro?” I asked Cotton.
“Sure,” he said, “you gotta see this ho-bot. It feels so real.” On the big screen, Cotton was kneading the faux flesh of the arm, right below the shoulder.
“Stop that!” Ellen protested.
“Allen said it was safe.” I said calmly, defending Cotton. “And he’s just curious. It’s not like he’s touching its private parts or anything.”
Validating my little bother’s curiosity seemed to calm Ellen down. She became less agitated. Silence followed. After about ten minutes she asked, “Anton?”
“Uh huh.”
“Why did you lie about taking calculus?”
“Why do you think I lied about it?”
“Because you thought I’d be impressed.”
I had learned that the best way to impress Ellen was not to deliberately try to make an impression. Sadly, Hammond had to learn the lesson the hard way. I chuckled. “No, it’s not like that at all. I lied because I didn’t want you to think I was stupid.”
“You’re not stupid.” Ellen said. “I mean you’ve got a better grade than me in English class.”
“I’m stupid when it comes to math,” I said.
“Doing badly in one subject is nothing to be ashamed of,” Ellen said. “A lot of people are learning disabled. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Look at Allen. I mean, the guy’s brilliant with books and computers, but he’s terrible when it comes to people. You’re good with people. That’s why the pair of you make such an excellent team.” Ellen’s tone was tender, endearing. I blushed because I wasn’t expecting a compliment. Ellen never gave compliments, and I didn’t know what to say. Perhaps I was supposed to ask Ellen what her weakness was.
“Thank you,” I said. “That was very nice.”
“I am nice.” Ellen said. “That’s probably my biggest weakness. I’m just too nice.” I had lost count of the times Ellen had snapped angrily at Hammond or myself, so I wasn’t sure if Ellen’s self-assessment was entirely accurate. However, I was smart enough not to point this out, so I simply nodded.
“You know Anton, I could help you with math if you wanted to come over sometime.” I felt my palms sweat and my pulse accelerate. Does Ellen really like me, I thought, or does she just feel sorry for me?
A flicker on the big screen caught my attention.
“They’re here!” Cotton said, peering up at Hammond’s big goofy grin. Hammond had popped out the grate on the wall that separated the utility room from the passageway.
“Are you standing on Allen’s shoulders?” Ellen asked.
“He doesn’t have an ear piece like Cotton,” I said, “so he can’t hear you, but I’m pretty sure he jumped and hoisted himself up with one arm.”
“Wow, he’s so strong!” Ellen said. She was so impressed she was practically swooning. Perhaps not rescuing Cotton myself was a mistake.
“It’s not that hard with the reduced gravity,” I said jealously.
It took over a dozen attempts before Cotton finally tossed the end of the cord into Hammond’s outstretched hand. Though my brother had fast fingers, he was terrible with projectiles. Much lighter than my brother, the ho-bot went up first. Fortunately, Ellen had returned to her math homework and completely missed the image on the big vid of Hammond feeling up the ho-bot’s faux boobs.
Chapter 8: Libra Space Station
Allen had the jano-bot repaired before breakfast the next morning. He programmed it to return to the clean utility from where he borrowed it. After lunch he checked Command Central and was relieved to discover that the jano-bot was no longer listed as missing.
As the ship decelerated on its final approach to Libra Station, Cotton’s nausea recurred warranting a third trip to the medical center and another shot of antiemetic medicine into his pimply ass.
The day we docked, Cotton and I were delighted by the announcement on the vid that classes were cancelled because the first mate, acting on behalf of our drunk captain, did not want to pay teachers for extra school days. As steward, mother’s position was deemed a necessary part of the airlock repair. Allen, eager to pay Cotton and I back a favor, gladly hacked into the steward’s computer to program the jano-bots after I told him the task was well beyond mother’s skill set. Allen did such a fantastic job maximizing robot efficiency that, three days into the repair, mother was awarded an official commendation by her supervisor. Mother spent most of her time sitting in the Steward’s office processing orders for supplies, a task so simple that even she managed to get by without making too many major errors.
Sadly, Mr. Yongscolder, our guidance counselor and school disciplinarian, convinced the first mate to grant him temporary work as a security guard. He was even issued an orange jumpsuit and one of Boldergat’s old tactical vests, which fit him loosely, as his man boobs were much less voluptuous than those of our late sergeant at arms. In the airlock that connected to Libra Station, Mr. Yongscolder sat on a chair reading digimags on his pocket module. He had created a list of students at high risk for the type of mischief that could strain the relationship between the ship and space station. Cotton and I were both on the list because Mr. Yongscolder was familiar with our disciplinary records. Wisely, he wouldn’t let us off the ship unless we showed him some hard currency to prove we weren’t going to steal things. Of course Cotton and I were broke so we were trapped on the ship. Mike and Jeff should have been on the list but weren’t because Charlie’s father was first mate, and Charlie got whatever he wanted. Ellen and Allen weren’t on the list, but Hammond was, guilty by his association with Cotton and myself. Eventually Hammond’s father kicked some M-notes his way, so he ditched us. The only other kids left on ship were Sorca and Stronzo who weren’t on the list but seemed to prefer playing Nook the Kook to exploring the space station. Cotton played with them in the gym, but I found the combined odor of the three smelly kids intolerable. I spent most of the time in our living unit watching really old, really boring movies on the vid and feeling sorry for myself.
Four days before our scheduled departure, mother suddenly and unexpectedly sat down across from me in the mess hall as I picked at my mashed potatoes and moped. She asked me why I looked so down, and I complained about how all the other kids got to explore the space station but that Mr. Yongscolder wouldn’t let Cotton and I go because we didn’t have any hard currency.
“Why would he care if you were broke?” mother asked.
“He doesn’t want Cotton and I to steal stuff we couldn’t afford,” I replied.
“Having money never stopped you or Cotton from stealing in the past,” mother said insightfully. The lack of reproach in her voice was a testament to her stellar parenting skills.
“Yes, what you say is true, but if we told Mr. Yongscolder that, he’d never let us off the ship no matter how much cash we showed him, now would he?”
Mother thought for a while. “No I suppose not,” she agreed. I resumed moping and picking at my mashed potatoes, but mother tapped me on the forearm to get my attention again. “Tell you what,” she said, “why don’t you and Cotton stop by my place after my shift ends.” She stood up to bus her tray. On her way out of the mess hall, I thought I saw her win
k at me, which seemed like a strange thing for her to do.
Cotton and I were both surprised at the mess mother had managed to make of Jackass Bob’s old living unit. The achievement was quite remarkable considering she lived in such a large place, had been there for only a short time, didn’t own many possessions, and was supposed to be responsible for the cleanliness of the entire ship. Bras hung from light fixtures, stockings from the back of chairs, and somehow she had managed to balance the rumpled carcass of an empty pudding cup on the tiny lip of the vid screen that protruded beyond the wall.
“Do you like my new place?” mother asked. “I got it as part of my promotion. It’s really big isn’t it?”
“We’ve been here before,” Cotton said.
“You have?” mother asked, confused.
When mother looked away I elbowed Cotton in the ribs because I didn’t want her to find out we had looted the place before she moved in. “What Cotton meant to say is that our friend Hammond lives in a nearly identical unit,” I clarified.
“Oh,” mother said smiling, “that makes more sense.”
Cotton was eager to join Sorca and Stronzo in the gym, so he got right to the point. “So mom, what did you want to see us for?” he asked.
“Oh yes, I have something special for you. I’ll be right back.” Mother went into her bedroom and retrieved something from under the mattress. She returned holding three M-notes. “These are for you!” she said.
“I don’t get it, do you need us to get you something?” I asked. Mother never gave us money before, though sometimes her loser boyfriends would when they found Cotton annoying and wanted the two of us out of the house.
“No, silly! It’s a gift for you and your brother to spend on the space station. I figured with my new promotion I could give you guys a little something.” She beamed, obviously pleased with herself. “In the past money was always tight, but times are different now.”
I didn’t know what to say. Eventually, a better part of me uttered, “thank you.”
“Yeah thanks mom,” Cotton said, “you’re the best mom ever,” which really wasn’t true.
