Pirates of Saturn (The Saturn Series Book 2)

by C. Chase Harwood

  The pair looked at each other for an answer and came up with none.

  Jada sighed. “What the hell yo people be doin’ all this here time?”

  Jyme pointed at the receding Belle. “Finding us that prize.”

  The bot called Link chimed in. “Regarding riding arrangements, as stated earlier, we industrial grade units will ride on the outside; myself, Klaus, Killer, Carlos, Fran, Bruno…” Link paused to eyeball T892, who had won their fight. “This one should probably ride on the inside with the domestic and the sex slaves.”

  Candy looked Link directly in his android eyes. “Listen, One-who-maintained-reprocessing-plants-for-the-release-of-human-excrement-sphincters, for the last time, Silvio and I will not be referred to as sex slaves.”

  Jada laughed. “A’ight, a’ight, Princess-Panties-in-a-Bunch, chill.” She spoke to Link while sidling over to T892. “Yo, if yo is gonna have an issue with this here one, yo be stayin' behind and beggin' for power.” She felt T892’s bicep for emphasis. “Beat your ass in the ring he did, so’s in my book he be worth more than you. Now pack that shit in whatever you be callin' your memory hardware and don’t be forgetin' it.”

  Link’s face betrayed a brief calculation, then he bowed his head slightly. “Yes, Miss.”

  “Captain. Only Captain. You be callin' me Miss again and your lips is gonna get shut with Kek glue. See what I’s sayin’?”

  “Yes, Captain.” Link shot a private to T892. You should still ride inside.

  T892 responded, Agreed, Manager-of-human-excrement. He turned to Jada, “If it pleases the captain, I should like to offer my services as a personal bodyguard. As a former security assistant on Hanson’s loading docks, I have an understanding of the art of subterfuge. Additionally, I have borne witness to numerous disputes and have thus garnered the ability to define the patterns in human interactions that may lead to conflict.”

  Jada sized him up. T892, like all industrial bots, was a strapping big humanoid. “Never be havin' no need for no personal bodyguard.” She smiled. “Sounds luxurious.” She glanced at the crotch of his pants. “Too bad yo don’t be comin' with the extra equipment.” She shrugged. “Sure, why not? I’s gonna shorten yo name to T.”

  “As you wish, Captain.”

  Link’s look toward T didn’t require an additional private message.

  Boyce said, “Oh, hey, speaking of clinging to the outside of a ship, you gotta check out their feet, Cap. You seen this?”

  Jada sighed, “What?”

  Boyce said to Link, “Show’em your monkey feet.”

  Link removed one of his boots and lifted the leg up toward a grab handle on the jump ship. The robot’s toes extended and gripped the handle like a chimp’s might.

  Boyce said, “See that? Like a monkey. No problem clinging to the outside.”

  T said, “All industrial robots designed for extra-vehicular work have such appendages, Captain.”

  Jada said, “Handy. Let’s mount up.”

  When Jada’s jump ship lifted off, numerous people on the ground looked up at the remarkable sight of a space ship rising with six humanoid creatures clinging to various grab handles on the roof. No doubt police ships would have been dispatched to investigate if Schafer hadn’t preventatively called in the odd configuration to flight control.

  For a brief breath-holding moment, one robot lost its grip and began to fall, only to be saved by another bot that snatched its wrist with its bare foot, pulling it back aboard.

  As they passed out of the nano bag that surrounded Soul, thrusting up and away from the mega planet, Jada sat next to Boyce, who was flying the ship. Chico’s holographic head was floating in front of her in the communication bay. “Cheeks, yo keepin' eyes on the prize?”

  “I got a lock as it ascended, boss. Made rendezvous with another ship parked out here. Little coupe. Built like a cop ship. No ID. Looks like the two are airlocked up or at least close. Not in a hurry to go anywhere. I shot a patch at both and got confirmation of attachment.”

  “Perfect. Keep watchin'. We be home in an hour.” She punched Boyce in the shoulder. “Assuming Tweedle-dum don’t try to dock manually again.”

  Boyce said, “Hey! We’re supposed to practice those for emergencies. That was a do-nothing-day.”

  “Which be costin' us a do-something-day in repairs.”

  Boyce ignored the complaint and focused ahead.

  Hee Sook sat with her back turned to The Belle’s robot charging dock watching her new companions finish dinner. As humanoid assistants went, she was old. Her’s was a common enough model in style and design, but the refinements of additional generations weren’t there. Her hard and software had been updated many times over the years, but that didn’t diminish the depth of her memory. Her only owners had been a pair of childless University Professors who had originally taught at Northwestern. As AI took on every role, including teacher, the professors found their jobs had slowly become obsolete. They had been among the first to move to the Lunar bases where human instruction was still revered, then on to Saturn, when the Moon felt too close to an increasingly hostile Earth. In her function as servant at various university type functions, Hee Sook had been observing human interactions up close for close to two decades. On top of that, the professors liked to throw a party. As she quietly went about her servant role, Hee Sook’s algorithms for categorizing personalities grew strong enough that she could effectively act like a fortune teller. The professors discovered this by accident. To settle an argument while putting together a seating chart for an eclectic guest list, they asked for Hee Sook’s opinion on how each guest might fit in with another. The robot offered such a thorough description of their guest’s personalities and how they might interact with one another, that the professors chose to seat them that way to find out. Events unfolded almost exactly as Hee Sook foretold. Soon enough, she was a part of the show — the professors set up a little tent for their parties, and installed Hee Sook to tell people’s fortunes. The robot was a hit, even garnering the nickname Sister Nostradamus. Others within the University’s teaching establishment began borrowing her for their own parties.

  As she sat in the charging bay, the now sentient robot scanned through those memories with what amounted to nostalgia. As she did, she noticed Caleb subconsciously placing his right index finger and thumb around his left wrist. While he chatted with the others, he glanced toward the airlock door several times. Hee Sook was aware that Caleb and Jennifer would be heading back to their ship after the meal. She said to him, “Caleb, forgive me for interrupting.”

  The conversation stopped and they all turned to Hee Sook.

  She attempted a look of concern and forged ahead. “I feel you are anxious about leaving the ship. You don’t trust your exo-suit to keep you safe.”

  Caleb, confused by the interruption, said, “Excuse me?”

  Hee Sook offered a warm smile. “Fear not. I checked the repaired seals on your suit. It is not as good as new, but it has the integrity of a much younger suit. The price you paid for the repair was a good one.”

  Caleb released his grip on his wrist. “OK. That’s weird, but thanks.”

  “You are welcome. I hope to make all of you feel a little safer and more taken care of.”

  Saanvi said, “That’s very kind of you, Hee Sook.”

  Hee Sook pushed off gently from the charger. “That’s better. I was in yellow, falling into red when we finally boarded to leave. I hope to never burden any of you with placing my sleeping body on a dock.” She smiled and spread her hands. “May I collect your eating tubes and arrange for their cleaning?”

  Spruck held out his empty food tube. “Sure. Thanks, Hee Sook.”

  Caleb said, “OK. If that’s how it’s going to be around here, we’re ponying up for a mating collar. Don’t care about the Diamond’s airlock being cop ship exclusive. If this is how things are gonna be with the new bot here, to hell with extra precautions. Jen and I aren’t spacewalking every time we want to eat and get nic
e service.”

  “But you said The Diamond Girl remains a safe haven,” said Jennifer with mock seriousness.

  “Changed my mind.”

  Natalie said, “Day Boy, you don’t even like robots. Who you kidding?”

  Caleb pointed at Hee Sook. “I like this one. And she’s right. I don’t like spacewalking if I don’t have to.”

  Hee Sook said, “Though that is of course how you feel, Mr. Day, that is not exactly what I said.”

  “Don’t go spoiling it by talking all robot on me.” To the rest he said, “We’re getting the adapter. There’s got to be one on the black market.”

  Spruck said, “Neither one of our ships can accommodate a permanent docking tunnel. It’d spoil the cloak on The Belle and your ship’s not set up for it.”

  “Don’t care. It’ll be worth it.”

  Spruck frowned. “It’ll throw off your landings. The Diamond Girl doesn’t have the ability to adjust for a big appendage hanging off her lock.”

  Caleb scowled and pointed at Hee Sook. “Then we set up a schedule. She spends equal time between ships. We park close together once a day and she jumps between locks.”

  Hee Sook’s eyebrows rose with appropriate astonishment.

  Jennifer said, “That’s too much maneuvering. Too much fuel. Too many stops.” She turned to Hee Sook, “How do you feel about coming over to the other ship once every three days or so?”

  “Three days?” burst out Caleb. “Why you asking her?”

  Jennifer spoke calmly, “Because she is a person by almost any measure, and we agreed to treat her as a member of the team.”

  Hee Sook said, “I am sorry that my presence here has suddenly caused all of you strife. I am happy to do whatever makes everyone else happy. Though I must inform you that I have never…jumped from one ship to another.”

  Caleb said, “Easy Peasy.” He looked at everyone else. “Let’s agree to every two days.”

  Jennifer said, “Does that work for everyone?”

  They agreed that it did.

  Caleb said, “I still want Hee to hit the Diamond before we leave. Unlike this freshly washed vessel, my ship’s in need of some domestic robot love.”

  Jennifer said, “She prefers her name in full. It’s a single name.” She ignored Caleb’s scowl. “I’ll stay here for the next leg. Hee Sook can ride with you.”

  Caleb said, “There’s room for the three of us.”

  “Hon, three’s a crowd on that little rig if it’s getting cleaned.”

  Caleb scowled. “Ok. Suit yourself.” He turned to the airlock waiving for Hee Sook to follow. “Come on, you.”

  The Diamond Girl was parked alongside The Belle so that their airlocks faced each other. With both of The Belle’s exosuit docks already occupied, Caleb had to go through the awkward struggle of suiting up inside her airlock. Hee Sook was in there with him, and patiently helped as she could. The suit was clamped to a wall in such a way as to make entering it as easy as possible, but somehow the legs were folded so that the robot had to straighten them out for him to get his feet in and settled. When he finally had the suit’s entry hatch shut, he released the wall clamp and awkwardly turned his head to find her. “Ready?”

  “I am,” she said without confidence.

  Caleb hit the depressurization button. The air was sucked out of the space and he got a green light to exit. Another button and the door popped out and swung on its hinges to reveal the depthless vacuum. Caleb’s breathing increased as he pushed himself out the door. The Diamond Girl was merely ten meters away. He told his suit to go home and was reminded that he was nearly out of maneuvering fuel. They’d loaded up The Belle’s storage tank while on Soul, with the plan to transfer some of it over to The Diamond Girl once back on Hyrrokkin. Meh. It’s only ten meters. He confirmed the request, and the jets fired off in short bursts to angle his back to the open exosuit dock.

  Hee Sook floated to the door and looked out. There was no down, but that didn’t stop her from experiencing the illusion of down as she poked her head outside. From the inside, with a floor and a ceiling, the ship offered the impression of a horizontal existence. For the 1468th time since becoming sentient, she cursed becoming so. Her innately robotic programming told her that there was no down, that if she floated out the door she would not fall, but it didn’t stop her from being astonished by the newly revealed abyss. If she’d had a stomach, it would have cramped up. Why, she thought. To what end is giving robots consciousness that includes the debilitating and seemingly illogical sensation of fear? What could AI have been thinking? She answered her own question, recalling that AI was partly animal, that in addition to being a nearly omniscient quantum computer, it was all of Earth’s remaining humanity mashed together. For animals, fear had a purpose, it created a potentially life-saving flight response. As she stared at the chasm between the two ships and became frozen by the emotion that kept people from doing potentially foolish things, she wished for the ability to do one of the breathing tricks humans did to calm their nerves. The thought of such a remedy seemed to help, and she closed and opened her eyes slowly to readjust her perspective.

  She focused on the Diamond Girl’s airlock. Caleb had already opened the door remotely with his suit. The lights were on. It was welcoming enough. She calculated the amount of force needed to push off with her legs and launch herself through the center of that far door. It would be less than a blink. To her profound annoyance—which was additionally annoying—she hesitated. She was a housekeeper. She’d never been outside a spaceship in vacuum. She’d never seen stars unfiltered by camera lenses or polycarbonate windows. Her primary focus in life had been dust, eradicating dust.

  She watched as Caleb’s suit attached itself to his ship. He gave her a wave and a thumbs up, as though he thought she might have been politely waiting for him to land before making her leap.

  “There is no up or down,” she said to herself, forgetting that she was also broadcasting to Caleb’s helmet.

  Caleb said, “Say again?”

  She looked at him, startled. “Oh, nothing. Forgive me.”

  “You coming or what?”

  “I am.” She made a backup calculation, got the same result, and pushed off.

  Like a diver straightening to make a final entry into a pool, she knifed her arms forward, her toes pointing behind.

  As she stuck the landing, Caleb said, “Atta girl.”

  A few minutes later, after showing Hee Sook where the toilet was, Caleb settled into his pilot seat and got Spruck on the line to map out a return trip to the moon, Hyrrokkin. As the source for the booze they pedaled, the little moon had become their de facto home base.

  The trip wasn’t a straight shot. Factoring in their current orbit, the destination moon’s orbit, and opportunities to slingshot off the gravity of other moons or Saturn itself, it required a bit of work to decide which path was the most efficient. If just one ship was making the calculation, it would have been a relatively simple task, but both Spruck and Caleb insisted on relying on their respective ship’s nav computers. Thus an intensely irritating debate was held every time a new destination was decided upon. If either one of their ships had proven to be consistently superior in making navigation calculations, the argument could have been easily settled, but neither did. Both shined, and both occasionally sucked. A raw straight line was the only time there was consensus, which was a shame this once, because while Hee Sook scrubbed the Diamond Girl’s head, and Spruck and Caleb dickered about saving an hour or two at most, a ship full of pirates was lining up on their tails.

  GERMS

  T OBSERVED HIS new master pacing around her private quarters. At his feet, her robotic dog faux sniffed and circled his legs in a programmed greeting to strangers. He sneered at the furry thing, then looked at Jada with false contentment. “How shall we make this work, Captain? May I suggest that in addition to my duties as bodyguard, that I offer my services as a personal servant, or valet if you prefer?”

  Jada
stepped into her small bedroom and stripped off her faux leather streetwear down to her black lacy underwear. Her undergarments weren’t meant for enticement; for Jada Temple they were a uniform that held a certain power. She was a woman who from her teens onward, had used her endowments for gain, for conquest. Opting for a faux silk robe, she stepped back out of the bedroom and stared out the projection window. The Innocent was underway, Saturn passing from sight as the ship angled away from the planet. She looked at T in the glass reflection. “I’s bored. What you got to fix it?”

  T smiled and inclined his head slightly, showing subservience to the alpha dog. “Like you, Captain, I am easily bored when idle. It is one of the myriad of tedious elements that being human-like entails.” He paused and placed his hands on his hips, spreading his shoulders wide. The machine had been designed with power in mind. Though it wasn’t even remotely necessary, the creators who made the aesthetic decisions about robots had long ago standardized android proportions to stereotypically fit in with the jobs they were required to do. For all intents and purposes, T was a robot version of a lumberjack. His torso was built to convey strength—a physique that sent ancient signals to the DNA that made Jada a woman. He smiled reassuringly. “Though I am not fully equipped for such, might I suggest that I nevertheless provide you with some release.”

  She turned, her eyes shining brightly. “Release? What you be havin' in mind?”

  “Some human men I worked with didn’t really think about who might be in the same room when they were… finding their own ways to relieve boredom. Let’s say this robot observed the professional techniques employed by various pleasure models. Though I have not taken part in such events, I feel confident that I can reproduce the effect.”

  Jada untied the sash on her robe. “Well, call me curious.”

  As T stepped forward to provide for his master’s wishes, he inadvertently stepped on her dog. The machine let out a programmed squeal of protest and was silenced as it was crushed underfoot. “Forgive me,” T said without conviction. “I am usually not that clumsy.”