Pirates of Saturn (The Saturn Series Book 2)

by C. Chase Harwood

  She smiled back with genuine mirth. “Sorry to say, but time’s up. We’ll need at least twenty to get there.”

  Caleb looked out at the city beyond and felt his peace slip. He hated Soul. Yes, it had green spaces, but the whole place wore an industrial patina that felt like a long dead rustbelt city in the American Mid-West. The residents seemed generally pissed off, and most if not all of them were in some way living in a pharmacologically altered mental state, which you would think would have them all feeling happy and cooperative, but for whatever reason, not. Caleb wasn’t exactly a philosophical genius, but he recognized the effects of unchecked freedom. The haves were doing fine in this city, everyone else was struggling. In the dog-eat-dog world of Saturn, the big dogs were getting most of the lunch. Unlike Hanson, Soul’s gatekeepers had forbidden conscious robots from roaming free in the city. The residents were in agreement about limiting more clever creatures inside that might take the few good gigs that could be found. The only sentient bots that had settled here were those who had fallen into use as chattel for entertainment purposes—and those were under the constant supervision of an approved pimp…er, agent. An artificial person who could freely think was anathema to the Human’s First movement which had broken out across the system since the nano-assault had created them. Soul was the center of that movement.

  Caleb stepped out of the zoo and asked, “Where’s Saanvi?”

  Jennifer picked some plastic shavings off his clothes. “She got OK’d last minute for that EMT refresher course she’s been babbling about.”

  “Good, I’d take her over the med-bot any day.”

  “She said you’d say that. She also said, tell him the only way I’d bypass the med-bot is if it was attacking him.” They turned toward the tube station. She spoke over her shoulder, “A med-bot saved Jook, if you remember.”

  Caleb chuckled. “Jook. I wonder what that spaz is up to. Think he’s still at the glass plant?”

  Jennifer had let him take her hand. She let it fall.

  “What?”

  She ignored the question, instead picking up her pace.

  “What? You don’t still have feelings for that guy?” He sped up to match her, his magnetic shuffling awkward. Unlike Hanson, which was tethered within Titan’s dense atmosphere, and thus enjoyed a fair amount of gravitational force, Soul floated just above the edge of Saturn’s atmosphere. Though, the planet was huge, and the gravitational force was roughly equal to Earth’s at its upper cloud layers, the city’s position—chosen to keep it out of the planet’s fierce winds—was so high that the magnetic pathways allowing for upright walking required practiced shuffling. Caleb stumbled and slowly fell to the ground.

  Jennifer turned and looked at him, offering no hand to help him up. “The feelings I have for Jook are of friendship. And yes, we stay in touch.”

  “You stay in touch. I didn’t know.”

  “Not your business to know.”

  Caleb got back on his feet. He and Jen were a thing, but it wasn’t easy. Never easy. He knew he had a knack for sticking his foot in his mouth, which didn’t keep him from inserting it now. “Friendship as in what? You were bed buddies for a bit there, right?”

  She turned and started shuffling again toward the station.

  “What? What’s the big deal? You never told me if you were or weren’t.” He shuffled to catch up. They’d been down this path multiple times. He still wasn’t getting it right. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s none of my business.”

  She kept walking, ignoring the apology. “I’m hungry. We’re going to be late.”

  “He’s a good guy in his weird way, Jook is. It’s just—”

  She stopped, cutting him off, looking him in the eye. “Yes, he is. And he saved my life. Nothing more to it.”

  Caleb shrugged. “OK.”

  They stepped onto an open lift. It had a simple railing to keep folks from falling off. It whisked them to a tube platform twenty feet above. The platform was sparsely occupied, and they were next in line for a Westbound pod. A moment later, a pod came to a halt inside the glass-tubed hyper-loop. A mother and child stepped out. The single rider in front of Caleb and Jen stepped inside and took their place. As the pod moved away, rapidly picking up speed, the sound of its departure quickly dissipated. Caleb watched the mother and her son step to the lift. The boy was perhaps six and had most likely been born on Soul. Soul and Hanson kids were oddly tall, and skinny for the most part, but not as strange as kids born on moons with even lesser gravity. The Soul and Hanson kid’s heads always looked too big for their bodies. Weird, Caleb decided. Mankind was starting to look like the big-headed skinny aliens that still occupied popular culture.

  When it was their turn, and they climbed into their pod, Jennifer said to the device, “Patmore Station. No music, please.”

  Like a living foam gel, the seats shifted their form under their occupant’s weight, moulding to the shape of the passenger. As the hatch slid shut, a comforting glow filled the egg-shaped windowless space. Though they worked just fine, Caleb noted that the seats were filthy. He cringed as his hair touched the headrest. As the device picked up speed he shrugged it off, saying, “Ah, now there’s the sensation of gravity.”

  She said, “Not that it's any of your business, but he’s gay.”

  “Who? Who’s gay?”

  “Jook. And yes, I spoke to him as recently as last week. Says he’s got Winter’s little glass factory all dialed in.”

  “Jook’s gay?”

  “Prefers men, yes.”

  “Huh. Doesn’t seem gay.”

  “Don’t know what to tell you there.”

  Caleb cocked his head a bit. “Thought my gaydar was pretty good.”

  “Again, don’t know what to tell you.”

  “I mean he’s an oddball and a major stoner, but gay… Oh well. Good to know.”

  She turned and looked into his eyes. “Feeling less insecure now? Cause I gotta tell you, if you’re going to keep on playing the insecure adolescent role, we’re done. Not just us done, the whole gang done. Insecure little boys are a major turnoff for me.”

  “Insecure might be a strong word.”

  “Wait, I can call you a little boy, but not insecure?”

  “Well, I’m known to be somewhat childish. I accept that. But I think I exhibit a certain amount of confidence.”

  “Confidence in most things, yes. Frankly, too confident sometimes. Your confidence is liable to get us all killed. But I accept that. What I don’t accept is your insecurity about me. It’s got to stop.”

  Caleb looked at his hands, which were fidgeting on their own. He stopped them, finally saying, “Yes, ma’am.”

  A voice came out of a hidden speaker. “Patmore Station. Please be certain to remove all of your belongings from this pod. Thank you for riding today.”

  Jennifer grabbed his cheeks and pulled him in for a brief kiss. “You’ve got me until you don’t.”

  They felt the pod come to a quick but not uncomfortable stop. The hatch opened, revealing two women and a male robot waiting for their turn to enter. The station was a significant hub for traders and therefore filled with shops, which explained why the robot was laden with bags. Caleb made eye contact with the thing, trying to determine if it was sentient. It had become a standard ritual for him since Bert’s…awakening. That there were robots out there who could think for themselves remained unnerving for him. Never mind that Bert had become a friend and trusted ally.

  The robot gazed back with what Caleb liked to define as an unfocused thousand-yard stare, and he felt satisfied that this one was as it should be. He shook his head. How had Spruck—well, the whole gang—talked him into going to this event/auction thing?

  As they stepped into the busy spaceport, Caleb said, “So Saanvi’s cool with us making this decision without her?”

  “The EMT thing was only available today. She said, call her if she needs to break a tie. Besides, it may not go our way. We’re talking limited supply. It’
s an auction, and then only after the action.”

  “Yeah, I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

  “You’re not being sensitive to robot feelings all of a sudden?”

  “No, it’s more the damaged goods aspect. Seems a dumb way to auction off a bot.”

  “Only way they’d let them in the city. Or so I gather. Fine for vice use.” She shrugged. “Talk about dumb.”

  The station was laced with video displays offering an assortment of advertising. As one, they all switched to a single image: a black screen with the lettering—THERE IS NO GOING BACK.

  Jennifer said, “Oh, God. If I have to see this one more time.”

  The video switched to an image of Captain Kelly Peel, of the ship Robinson Apartments, and then various angles of waking returnees. Peel said, “Houston. This is the good ship Robinson with a full manifest of citizens who wish to return to the fold. Please respond.” There was a heartbeat as she waited for a response, then the ship broke up around her. Oxygen rich air burst into flame, and just before the feed cut off, her twisted body was flung into space. The video jumped to multiple angles of suddenly horror-stricken passengers dying by the score. The black card came back on screen — THERE IS NO GOING BACK. Brought to you by Hanson Industries. Have a great day. The various monitors returned to their individual advertising feeds.

  Caleb said, “Is it me or is Supreme Libertarian, Bez Hanson, getting a bit Orwellian?”

  Jennifer raised an eyebrow. “I’m impressed you know Orwell.”

  Caleb raised two eyebrows. “I’m impressed you know Orwell.”

  Jennifer smacked his butt. “Then we continue to impress each other.”

  Caleb felt gooey inside with the butt slap. It made him feel secure. “Old bastard’s probably just pissed to see one of his precious Hanson Buildings being blown to smithereens.”

  “That sounds cold, but if you think of what he’s done to get all of us out here, can’t blame the guy.” She pointed at a ramen cafe. “There’s Spruck and Nat.”

  Their two friends had their faces over a couple of steaming bowls. They were seated in an open air portion of the restaurant, which allowed for the observation of the comings and goings of various spacecraft. It was loud, and the music was cranked up in a feeble attempt to counter it. As Jennifer and Caleb walked up, an extremely fit looking Asian man greeted them at the entrance. He spoke English with an Okinawa accent.

  “Hallo, Miss, Hallo Mister.”

  Spruck looked up from his bowl at them. “Hey! Check it out. Ito San here, bought our whole load. Easiest sale ever.”

  Ito smiled, offered a small bow, and guided Caleb and Jennifer toward Spruck and Natalie’s table, “Please to have lunch on the house.”

  Jennifer said, “Oh, that’s nice. And thanks for buying our stock of sake, but we’re going to be late. Can we get our bowls to go?”

  Caleb scowled and looked at Natalie slurping her noodles while giving him a thumbs up. He said to Jennifer, “Can’t we just sit for a quick bite? Do we need to see the action part?”

  Jennifer said, “The action part is part of the deal. Patrons , then the bids go in right away. No knowing how quickly it’ll be over.”

  Natalie wiped her chin. “Not like we can outbid most folks, anyway.”

  Jennifer said, “Really? Then why’d we come? We should be flush with the sake sale.”

  Spruck said, “Flush is a strong word. I figure at the least we’re here for boredom relief.”

  Caleb said, “It’s lunch, Jen. You said you were hungry.”

  “Then you should have eaten something rather than playing with bunnies.” She offered a slight bow to the proprietor. “Thank you, Mr. Ito. If we could have two of your favorites to go?”

  “OK. No problem. On the house, OK?” He snapped his fingers toward the cook in the back. “Two specials to go.”

  “Thank you.” She began to step past the decorative railing that defined the space. “The gym’s general seating, remember?” To Caleb she said, “I’m making my way there. You wait for the food.”

  Caleb saluted. “Aye aye, Captain.” Spruck and Natalie wiped their mouths and stood to join Jennifer. They nodded politely at the bowing Mr. Ito, who said, “OK. Thank you for selling the good sake. Come again.”

  As he waited, Caleb couldn’t help but notice that most of the humans walking around were affected one way or another by their augmented reality contact lenses. It made for some odd movement. A lot of people appeared to be talking to themselves. He said to Ito clearing the empty table, “Folks are falling back hard to the old ways. The AI jerks on Earth don’t need to kill us off, they just need to wait for everyone here to sign back on.” He noticed a man lying down in the street. “I mean look at that, they’re practically stepping right over that guy.”

  The cook came out and handed Caleb his food. Caleb thanked him and stepped off, angling toward the man lying down. When he got there, he couldn’t tell if the guy was alive or dead. “Bud, you alright?”

  Other pedestrians moved around them as if they were rocks in a stream. The prone man mumbled something unintelligible.

  Caleb waved his hand in front of his nose. “Christ, you stink. Since when are there homeless on Soul?” Caleb got to one knee. “Mister, I’m gonna ask again, you OK?”

  The man managed to squeak out, “Hungry. Thirsty.”

  A woman passed, her robot holding an assortment of shopping bags. “Call a medbot and report this location,” she said to her assistant. Then to Caleb, “More and more of these clogging up the streets.” She continued walking away.

  Caleb opened his to-go bag. “I got you, bud. Noodles and broth. It’ll fill both your bills.” He brought out a bowl and set it next to the man. He squished up his face and put his hands gingerly on the guy’s shoulders, lifting him to a sitting position and leaning him against a wall. He set the bowl between the fellow's legs, saying, “There you go. Eat up.”

  Caleb stood to leave. The man looked up and offered a smile. “Thanks.” He slurred, “Debtors do surface work on Titan. Think they’ll send me to Titan?”

  A policeman riding a hover bike passed them, then made a U-turn.

  Caleb said to himself, “Ah jeez, serves me right for doing a good deed.”

  The cop pulled up alongside and stopped. “You call for a med?”

  “No. But someone did.”

  “OK. Then move on. Each their own.”

  The butchered but common refrain always got under Caleb’s skin. “Guy looks like he’s been here all night. Where you been?”

  The cop frowned. He also wore augmentation contacts. “Day. Caleb. I see you’ve had some interesting dealings with Hanson PD. Care to come with me to the station and have a chat? Soul PD would love to hear all about it.”

  Caleb cocked his head with a mixture of surprise and anger. “That record is supposed to be sequestered.”

  The man on the ground looked between the two then started into the bowl with the urgency of someone who didn’t know if the prize was about to be yanked away.

  The cop smiled. “Doesn’t give details. Just says there’s a thick dossier is all.”

  Caleb pointed at the man on the ground. “He needs help. I’ll leave you to it.” He began to walk away. The cop followed him with his eyes, but said nothing more. He tapped a button on his collar saying, “Got another lumpy. East Patmore. Gangnam Building. He’s eating. Call off the med. I’ll take him in.”

  As Caleb approached his friends, who were standing in line outside a standard Hanson Building with first floor commercial space, he nodded at the sign above the door, Patmore Gymnasium. “Not exactly an amphitheater.”

  Two beefy Polynesian looking guards stood outside a doorway that had a long line of people filing in.

  Spruck said, “Those guys are huge. Extra weight fees to get out here must have been astronomical.” He paused thinking about his last sentence. “Astronomical. Get it? Astro—nomical? Like space economical.”

  Natalie said, “T
hat’s stupid, baby. Besides, tough looking beef like that; I doubt they paid their own freight.”

  Jennifer reached for the to-go bag. “Wait? Wasn’t there two?”

  “Gave one to a homeless guy.”

  “What?”

  “You couldn’t have missed that half-dead looking guy outside the restaurant.” He nodded at the bag. “It’s a big bowl. I figured we could share.”

  Jennifer opened the bowl and handed Caleb the chopsticks. “You never fail to surprise me.”

  Spruck said, “Those noodles are really good, dude. You’re going to regret giving some away.”

  The line began to move. Caleb took in the people. “Something in paradise ain’t squaring. Look at these people? What’s happening here? Are you guys noticing this? Thought everyone who came out was loaded.” He waved his arm at the line. “Half these folks look like they can’t afford decent clothes much less bid. ”

  Jennifer said, “Did you read the material? It said open to the public. Bidders are in their own section. Look.” She pointed at a hand-scrawled sign above a door — Auction Participants, Use This Door. “We’re in the wrong line.”

  The bidder’s door was manned by a monster of a South Seas specimen. A handful of better-dressed bidders filed past, each submitting to a quick iris scan to confirm their ID. Since birth for these people, the iris scan was a standard piece of identification. That they didn’t protest its continued use didn’t particularly jibe with the predominant live-free-political-view. Surgery was available for those who wanted to alter their ID. Caleb guessed that a full third of the colonists had taken on the retinal characteristics of long dead residents back on Earth.

  In front of the gang, Jada Temple stood in line with Carl and three others: Gina, a blonde who didn’t look a day over thirteen (the age her youth-obsessed mother had paid to have the girl’s aging process interrupted). The girl-woman wore heavy make-up, her eyes nearly blacked out to counter the situation. The other two, Boyce and Jyme, were men of indeterminate race who’s physiques could be an ad for Muscle Fitness. They appeared to be in their mid-thirties and shared a rugby fashion sense. Jennifer, Caleb, Spruck and Natalie filed in behind this crew. Caleb found himself making full eye contact with Jada, and felt mentally strip searched as she scanned his body. Jennifer caught it out of the corner of her eye. As she watched Jada pass through the scanner, she whispered to him, “Yowza. That exotic creature practically felt you up.”