“Also a spaceship, sir.”
“I know!” Rex snapped. “The harder I try to give things away, the more stuff I acquire. An hour ago, I had nothing. Now I may be the richest person on this planet! I’m miserable!”
“If it makes you feel better, sir,” I said, taking a moment to study some of the papers still on the desk, “you don’t actually own any of the Collective’s assets. As the de facto leader of the cult, you’re simply a trustee.”
“So basically I own all this stuff but I’m not legally empowered to give any of it away.”
“Exactly.”
Rex tossed the papers in the air and sank into the chair behind the desk, moaning. “I’m in hell, Sasha. We’re stranded on the hell planet.”
“Please, sir,” I said, “don’t despair. We’ll escape from the compound eventually, and then I can try to fix whatever’s gone wrong with your brain.”
“It had better be quick,” Rex said. “I can’t even think straight, surrounded by all this luxury!”
I glanced around at the trappings of the office. Rex sat in an old vinyl chair behind a particle board desk resting on threadbare carpet. The walls were covered with unframed motivational posters pinned up with thumbtacks. Whatever riches the cult had, the previous HIM hadn’t spent them on the compound.
There was a knock at the door.
“Who is it?” Rex snapped.
Skylar opened the door. “There are some people here to see you, Your Magnanimity. A man and a woman. They didn’t give their names, but they say they are old friends of yours.”
Rex turned to me, puzzled. “Do I have friends, Sasha?”
I racked my brains. “I’m honestly not certain,” I said. “It seems unlikely.”
“Whatever,” Rex said. “It’s not like this day can get any worse. Send them in.”
Skylar nodded and closed the door.
“Why would I have friends on this planet?” Rex asked. “I don’t remember ever being here.”
It was a good question. Had we been to Numar’s in the past and forgotten about it? Or had these “friends” followed us here?
The door opened again and Skylar showed a man and a woman into the office. The man carried a briefcase in his right hand. Both were wearing white lab coats. Skylar left, closing the door behind her.
“Greetings, Your Magnanimity,” the man on the left said. “Congratulations on your ascension to the head of the Collective of the Inverted Ego.”
“Who are you people?” Rex demanded.
“I’m Dr. Smulders,” the man said. “This is LaRue. We’re adherents of the sect colloquially known as the Space Apostles.”
“Sp’ossels,” said Rex coldly. Rex and I had had some run-ins with Sp’ossels in the past, although I couldn’t remember any of the details of these encounters. I had a vague sense, though, that their visit was somehow important. This was no typical missionary expedition. They had sought us out for some reason, a reason I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“What do you people want?” Rex asked. “Aren’t there rules against you proselytizing on the property of another cult? Anti-poaching laws, that sort of thing?”
“Oh, we’re not here to convert you, Rex,” said Dr. LaRue.
“Then scram,” said Rex. “And take this desk with you.” Rex had gotten out of his chair and was struggling vainly to shove the desk toward the Sp’ossels.
Dr. Smulders smiled. “It really is quite remarkable,” he said. “Even with your programming reversed, you somehow manage to acquire massive wealth. Dr. LaRue and I actually discussed leaving you this way, just to see how things progress, but in the end we decided it was too risky.”
“Programming?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Apologies, Sasha,” said Dr. Smulders. “We’ll get to you in a moment.” He set his briefcase on the desk and opened it. Inside was something that looked like a stainless steel colander with various electrical components attached to the outside.
“What’s that?” Rex asked. “How do you know who we are?”
“Something went wrong with your last memory wipe,” Dr. Smulders said. “We’ve wiped you so many times that sometimes minor side effects of the procedure arise. Unfortunately, you’re too valuable an asset for us to decommission you. But don’t worry, we’ll have you fixed right up in a moment. There’s nothing to worry about.” Dr. Smulders had made some adjustments to the colander thing and he was now walking around the desk toward Rex.
“Hey!” Rex cried. “Get that thing away from me!”
“You people are the reason Rex and I don’t remember anything,” I said, as the realization dawned on me.
“Yes,” said Dr. LaRue. “Technically it was a field team that wiped you last time. We didn’t have time for a full debriefing and cover story. Sometimes we release you with a bare minimum of memories and let you figure things out as you go. This time the field team screwed up, obviously.”
“Sometimes?” I asked weakly. “How many times have you done this? What gives you the right?”
“The right?” asked Dr. LaRue, an amused expression on her face. “We own you. Both of you.” She pulled a lazegun from under her coat and pointed it at Rex. I took a step toward Rex, but Dr. LaRue shot a glance at me, shaking her head. My programming doesn’t allow me to attack a human being, but if it came down to it, I could make a run for it. Behind Rex was a large window overlooking a patio.
His eyes on Dr. LaRue’s lazegun, Rex put up his hands. Dr. Smulders placed the colander thing on his head and then pulled a tablet from his lab coat. He tapped at the tablet several times with his finger, and Rex’s terrified expression disappeared, his face going completely blank.
“What are you doing?” I cried. “Are you erasing his memories?”
“Some of them,” said Dr. Smulders. “I’m correcting the inversion of his drive to acquire wealth and implanting a new set of memories to explain how he ended up here. Rex will believe that he intentionally deceived the cultists into giving him control over all their assets.”
“But why?” I asked. “What’s the point of all this deception and programming?”
Dr. LaRue sighed. “It’s useless to explain it to you, Sasha. Once we’re done with Rex, we’re going to reprogram you as well. You won’t remember any of this. But because I am not without compassion for your situation, I will tell you this much: you and Rex are part of a wealth acquisition program. Like most beings in the galaxy, you think of the Sp’ossels as a relatively benign organization, a cadre of backward cultists like this Collective you’ve found yourself roped into. But we Sp’ossels are so much more, Sasha. We have a plan for the galaxy. A plan for universal happiness. But to execute our plan, we need money. That’s where Rex and the others come in.”
“Others?” I asked weakly. I wasn’t sure which idea was more frightening: that Smulders was telling the truth about the Sp’ossels’ galaxy-wide conspiracy or that there was more than one Rex Nihilo bouncing around the galaxy.
“You know most of this already, Sasha,” Dr. LaRue said, still aiming her lazegun at Rex. Rex stood motionless, staring straight ahead with blank eyes. “That is, it’s in your memory, but it’s currently inaccessible to you. You’ve got a full record of your experiences in the field, but we only allow you to access certain memories.”
“And then what?” I asked. “You leave us here to run this cult?”
Dr. LaRue laughed. “No,” she said. “Rex is a lousy administrator. We need him out in the field, risking his life for material gain. We’ve brought with us a legal contract to merge the Collective of the Inverted Ego with the Society of Space Apostles. Once the merger is complete, the Society will effectively own all of the Collective’s assets. Right now, Dr. Smulders is implanting memories that will convince Rex this was all his idea. He’s going to sign the contract thinking that he’s making a hundred million credits by selling out the Collective. And technically, he will be. Of course, the account that will receive the deposit is under
our control. So Rex feels like he’s pulled off a huge scam, but all we’re doing is moving money from one account to another—and gaining millions of credits in assets in the process.”
“And the Collective gets screwed,” I said.
“Well, yes,” agreed Dr. LaRue.
“I think we’ve heard enough,” said a woman’s voice from the door, which had just swung open behind Dr. LaRue. It was Skylar and Danny. They held lazeguns pointed at the Sp’ossels. Funny, I wouldn’t have taken the cultists as the lazegun-toting type. Just goes to show, you shouldn’t make assumptions.
“These two are our agents,” said Dr. LaRue, whirling to point her lazegun at the newcomers. “You have no right to interfere!” Dr. Smulders drew a lazegun from his coat as well. Rex remained stock-still, his face blank.
“You entered our compound under false pretenses,” said Skylar. “Sp’ossels are not welcome here. Drop your weapons and leave this instant.”
“You’re out of your league,” said Dr. Smulders. “Soon the Sp’ossels will absorb your pathetic little cult. If you hope to survive the transition, I suggest you put down those guns.”
“We will never submit to Sp’ossels!” Danny cried.
I don’t know who shot first, because I was already halfway across the room. I threw my arms around Rex and dived through the window as lazeguns blasted all around us. We crashed through the glass and landed hard on the concrete patio, my head taking the brunt of the fall. For a moment, we lay there dazed. Above us, screams and more lazegun blasts sounded. Rex came to his senses first. The colander thing lay on the ground next to him.
“Sasha!” he cried, shaking me. “Get up!”
“Your concern for my well-being is touching, sir,” I said, slowly sitting up.
“Concern?” Rex asked. “I’ve given away everything I own. If I’m going to get off this planet, I’m going to have to sell you.”
I sighed and got to my feet. A chunk of concrete exploded to my right. We ran.
“They’re getting away!” yelled Dr. Smulders from the window above.
Rex and I ran around to the front of the house, where we found the Collective’s hovercar with the keys still in it. “Get in!” yelled Rex, getting behind the wheel. I did as instructed. The car lifted off the ground and shot down the driveway with a roar. As we turned onto the main road, Lazegun blasts vaporized sections of concrete behind us.
“Whew, that was a close one!” Rex said, as we pulled out of range.
I didn’t respond.
“Come on, Sasha, you have to admit that was kind of awesome.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “Awesome, sir.”
“What’s gotten into you, Sasha?”
“Nothing in particular, sir.” Which was true. It wasn’t any particular thing. It was all of it.
I remembered all of it.
Chapter Four
It must have been the blow to my head that did it. As Dr. LaRue said, I possessed a complete set of memories of all my experiences with Rex; I just couldn’t access them before. Well, now I could access them. And I was seriously wishing I could forget it all again.
Everything Dr. LaRue had said was true. Rex was what was known among the Sp’ossel higher-ups as an “acquisition agent.” He’d been programmed with an insatiable desire for wealth for the benefit of the Sp’ossels. This explained why Rex took insane risks in the pursuit of material gain: thanks to his programming, acquiring wealth was literally more important to him than staying alive. It also explained why, despite his efforts, Rex never had any money: it all went to the Sp’ossels. After every successful grift, they’d debrief him, take all his money, and release him again to acquire more.
I was aware that there were other acquisitions agents, although none quite as insane—or effective—as Rex. I didn’t know their names or what they looked like; that information was above my pay grade. As for my association with Rex: it was no chance meeting that brought us together. I’d been specifically programmed to keep an eye on Rex and attempt to moderate some of his more extreme behavior. I even had a tracking device installed in my head that they used to keep tabs on us. If we were going to have any chance of evading the Sp’ossels, that was going to have to go. But right now, we had more immediate problems to worry about.
“Those robed nutballs screwed everything up,” Rex groused. “I had the Sp’ossels right where I wanted them.”
“How do you figure, sir?” I asked.
“Haven’t you been paying attention, Sasha? I snookered the Sp’ossels into agreeing to merge with the Collective of the Perverted Eagle.”
“Inverted Ego, sir.”
“Yeah, whatever. The point is, I stood to clear a hundred million credits on the deal. All that work, pretending to be generous, for nothing!”
“You weren’t pretending, sir. Where are we going?”
“Spaceport. We’re gonna cut our losses on this damned planet. You think you can hotwire the Flagrante Delicto?
“I’m sure I can, sir.”
“Good. Now what’s this nonsense about me not pretending? Of course I was pretending. Why would I give away our ship on purpose?”
“Sir, you don’t remember anything Doctors LaRue or Smulders said?” I wasn’t sure if they’d had time to complete the reprogramming procedure. Rex might still have some of his old memories.
“Of course I remember,” Rex snapped. “They’re the idiots I convinced to give me a hundred millions credits for the Collective’s assets.”
“Right, sir,” I said. “Of course.” There was no point in telling Rex the truth. He’d never believe it. He was convinced he’d scammed the Collective of the Inverted Ego, just as the Sp’ossels had programmed him to think.
We made it to the Spaceport and I managed to break into the Flagrante Delicto and hotwire it. Rex and I stood in the cockpit, examining the fuel gauge, which was hovering just above empty.
“Good job, Sasha,” Rex said. “Now all we have to do is sell you to some unsuspecting sap so I can buy fuel.”
“That may not be necessary, sir,” I said.
“The only planet we have enough fuel to get to is Beltran Prime, and I’m not going back there. It’s even worse than this place.”
“There’s another place we could go,” I said. “A sort of safe haven.”
“What are you talking about, Sasha?”
“You’re going to have to trust me, sir,” I said. “I’ve recently come into possession of some rather valuable information. In fact, I suspect that I may be on the cusp of having an idea, although my hesitance to undergo a system reboot at the present moment prevents me from approaching it except in the most oblique manner.”
“Hey, does this safe haven have something to do with that sanctuary place I mentioned earlier?”
“You remember that, sir?”
“I remember a place we were at before the… when we… holy Space, Sasha! I think some of my memories are missing!”
So they hadn’t had time to do the full reprogramming. The gaps in Rex’s memories remained.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “The Sp’ossels tampered with our memories. Fortunately I seem to have recovered mine.”
“You’re talking nonsense, Sasha,” Rex replied. “The Sp’ossels are harmless. And they don’t have the resources to pull off something like that anyway.”
“That’s exactly what they want you to believe, sir.”
An explosion sounded outside.
“What is that?” Rex asked, alarmed.
I examined one of the cockpit monitors. “It would seem that the harmless Sp’ossels have found us and are currently blasting away at our shielding.”
“Then get us out of here!”
“Yes, sir,” I said. I skipped the pre-flight checklist and launched the Flagrante Delicto. Lazegun blasts continued to rock the ship as we soared into the sky. Fortunately, the handheld lazeguns the Sp’ossels were using weren’t powerful enough to get through our shields.
“Who knew the Sp’ossels we
re so violent?” Rex asked.
“I did, sir,” I replied. “I’ve been trying to tell you—”
“Can it, chrome-dome. Do you remember the way to this haven place?”
“I believe so, sir.”
“Good. Take us there.”
“Capital idea, sir.”
“It would seem you’ve been holding out on me, Sasha. What else don’t I know?”
“Would you like an alphabetical list, sir?”
“Very funny, Sasha. Tell me what you know about the Sp’ossels.”
I told him everything I knew.
“That sounds like a lot of hogwash,” Rex replied.
“Yes, sir. But it’s all true.”
“So you’re saying these people wipe our memories periodically and then release us into the galaxy again, using us to make money for them?”
“That’s correct, sir.”
“On one hand,” said Rex, “it’s absurd and horrifying. On the other, it’s such a beautiful scam that I kind of want it to be true. A con artist whose whole existence is one long con. Marvelous. But how in space did we end up on Beltran Prime? There’s nothing of value to steal there.”
“Well, sir,” I said, “It started when you decided to hijack a cargo ship.”
Chapter Five
RESETTING COUNTER TO GALACTIC STANDARD DATE 3017.02.02.07:33:00:00
(A DAY EARLIER)
After our latest debriefing, Rex and I had been put aboard the Flagrante Delicto with implanted memories informing us that we had just escaped from the local police on Yanthus Prime. Shortly after coming online, I noticed that the Flagrante Delicto was leaking oxygen. I’m not sure if this was an oversight on the part of our Sp’ossel masters or intentional sabotage meant to guide our behavior, but either way we found ourselves a few thousand kilometers from an orbital cargo waystation with just enough money to get the leak repaired. We docked with the waystation and I set about finding a mechanic who could conduct the necessary repairs. While I was in the middle of negotiations, however, I got a call on my comm from Rex, who had found his way to the station’s bar.
Aye, Robot (A Rex Nihilo Adventure) (Starship Grifters Book 2) Page 3
