Robot Dust Bunnies (Argonauts Book 5)

by Isaac Hooke

  “You got it,” Rade said.

  Shaw teared up and looked away. “You bastard. You’re supposed to fight for me. You’re going to give me up so easily? What an asshole.”

  Rade was stunned.

  What the hell do I say?

  She wiped her eyes, and the liquid balls floated off her fingers.

  “All right, obviously you’re not yourself right now,” Rade said. “You’ve been through a traumatic experience, and need time—”

  “I hate you,” Shaw said.

  Rade stared at her. It felt like she had stabbed him through the heart. He buried the feeling with difficulty.

  She’s not herself.

  Rade turned his back on her but remained seated. He had to stay at her side, he owed her that much. He kept the noise canceler raised in case she decided to spout more inanities. The Argonauts didn’t need to hear their domestic squabbles.

  He stared at the twins. He realized that if either of the two infants died, she would never forgive him. She was right to blame him. If he hadn’t left her aboard, none of this would have happened.

  No, he decided. I’m not going to blame myself for this anymore. I’ve done so many times in the past. If she had come to the surface, she could have suffered an even worse fate.

  Still, if one of the children died, not only would Shaw never forgive him, Rade doubted he would ever forgive himself, either.

  THE DAYS PASSED. The Argonauts did what PT they could in the cramped confines of the cabin, using their mounting magnets to attach them to the decks and bulkheads as necessary for the different calisthenics. The Weaver studiously guarded the jumpsuits incubating the twins near the cockpit, not letting the Argonauts crowd too close.

  Rade used the PT as a way to punish himself. He did as many pushups as he could throughout the day, until he was utterly exhausted. They were rationing their food supply, so that meant he was often running on empty, or nearly so. But he pushed on, because the punishment felt good.

  Bender often joined him, at no request of Rade’s, and together they pumped out those sets. These were in addition to the five hundred daily pushups that Rade had previously meted out to Bender, which the Argonaut dutifully performed at ten a.m. every morning. Even when Rade told him he didn’t have to do the five hundred anymore, Bender insisted on them.

  “That’s one of the unfortunate side effects of MOTH training,” Manic commented from the sidelines one time, while Rade and Bender were pumping out sets in an epic exhaustion session. “Kind of turns you into a masochist.”

  “Shut up, bitch,” Bender said between gasps. “You should be right here with us.”

  “I would,” Manic said. “Except there’s no room on the deck.”

  “Then do the set on the ceiling!” Bender said. “There’s no grav in here. What a pussy bitch you are!”

  “Save your energy for your set, bro,” Manic said in a particular mocking tone that even got under Rade’s skin. “You’re going to exhaust yourself.”

  “Maybe I’ll wipe that smirk off your face with my fist?” Bender said, panting. “Then you can find out just how exhausted I am.”

  “I’d certainly like to see you try,” Manic said. “Bitch.”

  Bender released his magnetic mounts and shoved off from the cabin floor. He slammed into Manic and began pounding him.

  Manic easily deflected the blows of the exhausted man and started laughing. “You punch like a wimpy bitch. No, scratch that, the queen of wimpy bitches!”

  That only further angered Bender, who redoubled his efforts.

  Tahoe pulled Bender off of him.

  “Ah, that was great,” Manic said. “I haven’t had such a good laugh in a long time. Not since your sister showed me her pussy, or lack thereof.”

  Bender growled and broke free of Tahoe, hurtling into Manic once more. They exchanged blows.

  “The two of them are going to be great role models for the twins,” Tahoe commented.

  Rade stopped doing his pushups and released the magnetic mounts to get up. He glanced at the tussling pair. “You do realize that whatever injuries the two of you obtain, the Weaver isn’t going to help you? It has to devote all of its processing power to watching the twins.” That wasn’t entirely true, but Rade planned to deny them access to the surgical robot for the time being nonetheless.

  That did it, and the two separated. Bender was panting loudly, and had a bloody nose, while Manic, barely breathing, had emerged relatively unscathed.

  “Need a tampon?” Manic taunted.

  Bender ignored him, returning to his seat and clamping in. The blood pooled around his nose in the zero G, the surface tension wiggling it around his skin as he moved. Bender grabbed one of the baby wipes from his utility belt and cleaned the blood away.

  “Well, at least we’ll soon have a better use for all those baby wipes he keeps on his person,” Manic said. “We got our designated ass cleaner right there.”

  “I ain’t cleaning no one’s ass,” Bender said.

  “Even your own?” Manic said. “That makes sense... I was wondering why you smell so bad. Course, I suppose you won’t notice anymore, what with your nose like that.”

  “Looks broken,” Tahoe commented on Bender’s nose.

  “Whereas I’m completely untouched,” Manic said, smirking.

  Bender grinned mockingly in return, flashing his blood-covered golden grille. “I’ll remedy that later.”

  “You can certainly try,” Manic taunted.

  “That’s enough, Manic,” Rade said. Manic’s comments were really getting under his skin today. Rade supposed it was because Manic hadn’t been there at Rade’s side, doing pushups with him, while Bender had.

  “Sorry boss,” Manic said. “I can be an ass sometimes.”

  “You certainly can,” Rade said.

  Grinning widely while he held his nose, Bender merely stared at Manic.

  Rade was awakened during the designated nighttime by further scuffling; Tahoe was already up, and he physically separated Bender and Manic. Rade shook his head, going back to sleep again.

  The next morning Rade realized that Manic had a matching broken nose. Both he and Bender were all smiles, however, both of them thinking they had won the fight. Rade kept his promise, denying them use of the Weaver.

  After Rade finished a quick pushup set, Algorithm reported that the Argonaut had indeed passed the pleasure station without stopping, and the starship continued on toward the exit Gate.

  “I wonder if it’s a ruse,” Tahoe said.

  “What do you mean?” Rade asked.

  “It’s possible the Phants drifted free from the Argonaut when they passed,” Tahoe explained. “Perhaps crossing the void to the station while the ship continued on its way. It’s not something we’d pick up on our sensors, at least not at this distance. They could have programmed Bax to continue on toward the Gate, with the goal of drawing us away.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we’re making a stop at the station,” Surus said.

  For the past few days, Algorithm and Bender had worked on repairing the robots Rade had brought aboard with Shaw. They’d managed to fix two of them—Cora and Ulysses—but the remainder would require more specialized tools, such as those found aboard the hangar bays of a starship.

  Meanwhile Shaw had spent the past few days mostly sleeping, and hadn’t spoken to Rade or any of the others except for a few words. But that morning, as he guzzled his liquid meal replacement through a straw, she rested a hand on his.

  “Well, it’s somewhat reassuring that we’re not the only ones who fight,” Shaw said, nodding toward Bender and Manic.

  “Welcome back,” Rade told her. He raised his noise canceler around her. “Or are you back?”

  “For the most part,” Shaw said. “I’ve forgiven myself. And you. I’m sorry for telling you I hated you, earlier. That was uncalled for. You know, when the ship was boarded, Corunna, or the other Phant, I don’t know which, attacked me, wearing your face. It was like I w
as fighting you. And then when you hit me in the belly, hit the babies... it tore me apart. Even though I knew it wasn’t you, I still blamed you. Because I thought you never wanted the twins in the first place.”

  “How can you say that,” Rade told her. “Of course I wanted them. It was just a surprise.”

  “I know,” Shaw said. “And what happened wasn’t your fault. It never was.” She glanced at the incubating jumpsuits and shook her head slightly. “Cutting them out was probably the best decision you ever made. I checked the Weaver’s medical logs, and its diagnosis. The twins would have died within an hour if we hadn’t removed them. So I thank you for seeing clearly, when I could not. So much for my astrogating skills, huh?”

  “Even astrogators make mistakes sometimes,” Rade said.

  “But usually far less than captains do,” Shaw said. Her mouth betrayed a slight grin.

  “I never claimed to be perfect,” Rade said.

  “No,” Shaw said. “And neither did I.” She was quiet a moment. She continued to gaze at the sleeping twins. “I wonder how we’re going to explain to them that they were born in a shuttle somewhere, deep in Russian territory?”

  “Maybe we’ll just tell them the truth,” Rade said.

  “That I was punched in the gut by an Artificial possessed by an alien, thrown into the void, rescued a full minute after my oxygen ran out, revived from the dead, and then cut open to give birth via cesarean section?”

  “Pretty much, yeah,” Rade said. “Plus, we’ll have to explain how they were raised for two months inside jumpsuits serving as incubators before they reached full term.”

  “I’m hoping we’ll be able to give them real incubators soon,” Shaw said.

  “I am, too,” Rade said. “We’ll have to make sure Surus chooses a ship with a fully-stocked sickbay.”

  As the Argonaut continued toward the exit Gate, the twin shuttles gave the fourth gas giant of the system a wide berth—getting too close wouldn’t be wise, given their current slow acceleration—and then finally approached its fifteenth moon, where the pleasure station orbited. It was named Radost, the Russian word for joy.

  “I’ve received approval to dock,” Algorithm announced. “We’re going to have to separate the Dragonflies.”

  “Electron,” Rade sent. “It’s time to separate the shuttles. Have the Hoplites reposition to avoid any unnecessary complications.”

  “We’re ready,” Electron transmitted a moment later.

  “Algorithm, separate shuttles,” Rade said.

  He felt the hull vibrate as the magnetic mounts deactivated, and the two shuttles moved apart. Checking the external camera, he saw that the Hoplites were all connected to the bottom shuttle, which held Rade.

  “What about the Hoplites?” Tahoe said. “They can’t land with us.”

  “They’ll have to separate before we dock,” Rade agreed. “And land using their jumpjets. Electron?”

  “Yes?” Electron transmitted.

  “Judging from your status display, you’ve already completed an in-flight transference of fuel,” Rade said.

  “I have,” Electron agreed.

  “Do you have enough to make the landing?” Rade asked.

  “Indubitably,” Electron answered.

  “Well, at least your sense of humor is returning,” Rade said. “I think.”

  “Tahoe had me turn up the setting,” Electron said.

  Rade glanced at Tahoe. “Sly of you.”

  “I figured you could use some more humor in your life,” Tahoe said. “There’s been so little to laugh at, lately. Though I’m not really sure how the word ‘indubitably’ qualifies as humor.”

  “AI humor,” Rade said. “We humans don’t get it half the time. And when we do, we’re usually laughing at the wrong thing.”

  “Sounds about right,” Tahoe said.

  Algorithm received a trajectory from the station’s Space Traffic Controller, and slowed down to weave between the different starships orbiting the station. Most were likely manned by skeleton crews, either robot or human: the remaining personnel would have boarded the station via their own shuttles to enjoy the fruits of their labors, partaking of the various pleasures on offer. There were likely several privateers aboard. In his previous life, Rade had hunted many of them. The Sino-Korean variety anyway, not Russians.

  Several minutes later the two Dragonflies made their final approach. The Hoplites released Rade’s shuttle about thirty seconds before reaching the station; the mechs fired a burst of reverse thrust to slow themselves.

  The Dragonflies touched down and a few seconds later the Hoplites landed in the hangar beside them.

  “The Phants aren’t here,” Surus reported.

  twenty

  All right,” Rade said. “That answers that. They remain aboard the Argonaut.”

  Rade tapped in the hangar master after the bay doors closed and the cavernous compartment began to pressurize.

  “We’d like our shuttles refueled, and our mechs as well,” Rade said. “Do whatever refits you can in an hour.”

  “These particular mechs exhibit severe heat damage,” the robotic hangar master replied. “They’ll require at least three or four days of repair work, if not a full week. Maybe if I divert some longshoremen to join the techs I might be able to come in at the lower end of the estimate. I can only schedule them to start tomorrow morning, however.”

  “Okay, forget it,” Rade said. “Top up the jumpjet fuel only. But sell me the spare parts and raw materials so my crew can do the repairs themselves. I’ll also need some specific combat robot fittings. I’m transmitting the full part list now.” Rade nodded toward Algorithm.

  “Sent,” Algorithm said.

  “Received,” the robotic hangar master replied. “For the refueling of the Dragonflies and Hoplites, plus the fittings and raw materials necessary for repairs, that’ll be twenty-seven thousand credits.”

  “Yikes!” Bender said.

  Rade glanced at Surus.

  “Give me the account number and I’ll transfer the necessary credits,” she said.

  And so the mechanized refueling platforms rolled into place, attaching their long, accordion-like tubes to the shuttles and Hoplites in turn.

  “The external atmosphere has stabilized,” Algorithm announced.

  “Ramps down,” Rade said. “You have a short liberty, team. It lasts until Surus can procure us a ship.”

  “About time we got liberty,” Bender said. “I don’t know about you bitches, but I’m starving. Rationing liquid food isn’t my idea of fun. Shit, look at me. My muscle mass has dropped by at least ten pounds in the past five days. Big boy like me needs his macronutrients. Surus, take your sweet time out there.”

  The team began stripping off their jumpsuits.

  “You haven’t lost any pounds, Pussywillow,” Manic said. “If you have, it’s due to blood loss from all the times I beat the hell out of you.”

  “You moron,” Bender said. “I was the one who beat the hell out of you.”

  “Damn, you guys are going to have to forward me the video archives sometime,” Fret said, appearing at the down ramp already changed into a T-shirt. “I was bored out of my mind on the other shuttle. Harlequin, TJ and Lui never fight at all! They expected me to play VR games with them all day. Not the guys you want to be stranded on a desert island with.”

  “Who was talking to you, skinny bitch?” Bender said. “Anyway, first thing, I’m heading to the food court. Then it’s off to the skin musicians. Hell, maybe I’ll just eat at the flesh parlor instead. Have me some maple-syrup pancakes, then turn to the right and munch on some maple-syrup pussy.”

  “That’s actually kind of handy,” Manic said. “You can floss the pancakes from your teeth with the pussy hairs.”

  Bender shot Manic a you’re crazy expression as he pulled off his leg assembly. “Huh? Shut up, bitch.”

  “Please,” one of the robots outside said. “Station regulations require that proper clothing must be w
orn at all times when bodies are visible in public spaces, including the hangar.”

  “It’ll only be a few moments,” Rade said.

  “I am sorry, but—”

  “Raise the ramp,” Rade instructed Algorithm, and the ramp sealed the robot from view.

  The crew continued to change, grabbing spare clothing stuffed underneath the seats. They tossed the different shirts and pants around until they found something that fit each of them.

  Rade and Shaw remained inside their jumpsuits. He had no intention of leaving the ship. Neither did Shaw, apparently.

  When they were finished, Rade ordered the ramp lowered once more.

  TJ was waiting out there, sporting a tight T-shirt that showed off his ample biceps, along with the myriad of mech-themed tattoos climbing up and down each arm.

  Bender joined him in a matching outfit, decked out in only a few gold chains—all that he was wearing underneath his jumpsuit.

  “You guys look like a couple,” Tahoe said.

  “Thanks.” TJ wrapped an arm around Bender’s shoulders and blew Tahoe a kiss.

  “If I were gay,” Tahoe said. “I’d definitely want to have a threesome with you two.”

  Bender shrugged off TJ’s arm. “Come on, quit fooling around.”

  “Any ideas where you’ll pick up a ship?” Shaw asked Surus.

  “Since there is no shipyard available at this station,” Surus said. “I’ll have to buy one from a station customer. It will be costlier than buying a new ship, however. Considering that whoever I buy from will have to arrange passage from another vessel.”

  “We could always arrange passage, too,” Rade said. “If we have to.”

  “Given the sensitive nature of our mission, I would prefer to purchase a vessel to ourselves, if possible,” Surus said. “We can renovate it, and resell it hopefully for the purchase price, or a small loss, once we reacquire the Argonaut.”

  If we reacquire it, that is.

  “Agreed,” Rade said. “I’m just saying, arrange passage if you have to.”