The Raven-Haired Rogue: A Novella

by John Zakour

  We start walking down the hallway. “Why did they have to put the elevator so far away?”

  “They do it so the guests don’t feel pampered,” HARV says. “It’s all part of the appeal.”

  We start walking down the long hallway. I hear a buzz behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I see a little, round cleaning robot has come out of its station in the wall. It is trailing us.

  “Apparently, the little cleaning bot thinks we’re going to make a mess,” I joke.

  “I am a hologram. I can’t make a mess,” HARV says. “Carol is quite neat, but you, Zach, can be a bit of a slob. I am guessing the cleaning bots at your office and home have relayed this information to all the cleaning bots in the area.”

  I shrug and keep walking. I can’t help but notice the buzzing sound growing louder. Looking over my shoulder again, I now see there are two more cleaning bots behind the first one. All three bots are following us.

  “I’m not that bad!” I insist as we keep walking.

  “Tió, you can cause a lot of damage,” Carol tells me. “The bots just probably want to be prepared.”

  I see three more bots come out of their stations on the floor. These three bots take position behind the others. The buzzing sound increases.

  “OK, this is getting ridiculous!” I say.

  “Zach, the last time you were in an upscale hotel, you got into a gunfight with assassins and a couple of superwomen causing extensive damage. You cannot blame these bots for being overly cautious,” HARV says.

  Calling over my shoulder, I tell the bots, “I’m just here to talk to a client.”

  I can’t help but notice there are now ten cleaning bots in bowling-pin formation trailing us.

  “I gotta admit this is weird even for us,” Carol says, glancing over her shoulder.

  “Please, you humans are just overreacting,” HARV insists.

  Then as if on cue, the ten cleaning bots murmur, “Kill, crush, clean!”

  “OK, maybe not such an overreaction,” HARV admits.

  I stop walking and turn and face the round little bots. “OK, this is ridiculous. What are you planning to do? Suck me to death?”

  “Actually, Zach, these bots are equipped with laser-clean technology, to burn off the really tough spots. I calculate with a slight adjustment they could cause harm,” HARV says.

  The lead bot hovers up off the ground, exposing its underbelly to me. A laser beam from the middle of the bot hits me in the shoulder. My underarmor prevents the blast from reaching my skin, but it still burns through my suit.

  “See!” HARV tells me. “It is good to be right.”

  I don’t mind being attacked now and then. It comes with the job. But I take offense when a person, mutant, animal, or bot rips my suit. That’s just so uncool.

  I now notice that the other nine bots are also hovering in the air, positioning themselves to fire on me.

  “Do you want me to help, tió?” Carol asks. “Or do you want to handle these bots yourself…”

  I look at the little cleaning bots, the ten of them hovering up in the hotel hallway. They certainly don’t look all that menacing. But as the hole in my suit proves, these days you don’t have to look dangerous to be dangerous.

  “Listen bots, I don’t want trouble,” I say. “Stand down now!”

  “They are cleaning bots. They won’t pay any attention to you. They have something they need to clean up, and they will not stop until that job is done. I am actually trying to override their programming,” HARV tells me. “It’s not easy because they are such simple machines. They are simply programmed to see a spot and remove that spot.”

  “So they think of me as a dirt spot?” I ask.

  “Apparently so,” HARV says. “I’ve been able to confound them so far, which has prevented them from shooting at you again, but I calculate I can’t hold them much longer. It’s like trying to deal with a bunch of dimwits. You can distract them for a moment with a bright, shiny object, but sooner rather than later, they will get bored with it and move on.”

  I move my left wrist in just the right way that makes my trusty Colt-4500 pop into my hand. I wave my gun at the bots.

  “Now back off, bots!” I order.

  HARV puts his hands on his hips and sighs. “Zach, these bots will not listen to you. They are very single-minded. I also should note that there are no security cameras in this hotel. Apparently, the patrons value their privacy more than security.”

  “Probably because they travel with their own security,” I suggest.

  “Noted. The point being, if you fire your gun because you claim you are being attacked by harmless cleaning bots, there will be some doubts,” HARV tells me.

  I think about the situation. Firing my gun in public is never a good thing. Sure, the hotel isn’t that crowded, but with my luck, some overly pampered customer would show up the minute I pulled the trigger. Plus, the authorities are never fans of me shooting up a place for no apparent reason. Sure, in this case I had a reason, but I’m not sure they’d believe that the cleaning bots were attacking me.

  “Kill, crush, clean!” the ten bots echo as one.

  “Carol, take them out,” I say.

  “With pleasure,” Carol says with a smile.

  Carol points at the bots and then gestures to the left. The ten bots go crashing into the left hall wall. Carol swipes her arm to the right. The bots fly from the left wall and slam into the right wall. The bots shatter into hundreds of little bot pieces. The pieces sprinkle harmlessly to the ground.

  “I wonder who will clean up this mess,” Carol says.

  “Not our problem,” I tell her.

  We head to the elevator and up to Merinda’s floor.

  3

  My experience has taught me that dignitaries like to have lots of aides and servants around. It gives them an air of importance. Therefore, I’m surprised when Merinda greets us at her hotel room door.

  “Zach, I’m so glad you came,” Merinda says as she opens the door. “Please come in so I can update you on my situation.”

  Carol, HARV, and I walk into the room. It’s a big area. The walls are painted a bright, shiny, almost-glowing yellow. But outside of that, not much else separates it from your standard hotel room. I am surprised to see the only person in the room with Merinda is a small lady with gray hair and big eyes.

  Merinda motions to the small lady. “This is my aide, Alicia. She is constantly by my side.”

  “I assume you travel with more than just one aide and a dog,” I coax.

  Merinda nods, lowering her eyes ever so slightly. “Yes, the rest of my staff is out looking for Saturn. But Alicia will not leave me alone.”

  This is the second time in less than a minute that Merinda has noted how her aide is sticking by her. I get the feeling from Merinda’s words and actions that she wants some alone time with me. She just can’t say it out loud. I need to put Alicia on ice, at least for a few moments, so Merinda can speak freely.

  “Carol, can you stun Alicia for a second?” I think to Carol.

  Carol focuses on Alicia and squints her eyes. Alicia stands there nervously looking at us.

  “I can’t get a lock on her brain,” Carol thinks back to me. “It’s weird. It’s like she’s immune to my powers…”

  OK, so it looks like we will have to deal with Merinda under Alicia’s watchful eyes, at least for now.

  “So when was the last time you saw your dog?” I ask Merinda, getting right to the business at hand.

  “Zach, he’s an intelligent creature. He is my friend and companion, but not mine to own.”

  I clear my throat. “When was the last time you saw Saturn, the dog?”

  Alicia steps forward. “We saw him exactly two hours and forty-two minutes ago.”

  Merinda shakes her head a bit nervously. I can tell she is clearly worried about something. I’m just not totally positive it’s her dog. “The very worrisome thing is I haven’t heard anything from him, either.”

&nbs
p; “Does he have some sort of communication device?” I ask.

  Merinda shakes her head. “No, we have a mental bond,” she tells me. “He can broadcast his thoughts to me…”

  “Of course he can,” I say. This wouldn’t be a job for me, if this were just a normal superintelligent dog.

  “Is there a range limit on your mental link?” Carol asks.

  “Why doesn’t Saturn wear a GPS locator?” HARV asks and scolds at the same time.

  Merinda looks at Carol and smiles. “Saturn and I have never been more than a few kilometers apart, and we’ve always been able to maintain our link.” She looks at HARV and frowns. “He does not wear a locator because he is an intelligent being who does not wish to wear a locator.”

  Her annoyance at HARV makes me smile just a little. “Take me to Saturn’s room or pillow or whatever…” I say. “I’ll also need an image of him.”

  Merinda points to a door at the far end of the room. “He sleeps on a cushion on the floor of my room. Plus, I have a photo of the two of us together there.”

  “Let’s see them,” I say, walking toward the door. “Has he acted unusual the last few days?”

  Merinda follows me toward the room, with Alicia on her tail like a persistant shadow. “Not really. He was looking forward to coming to Earth. He’s never been here. He said he was excited to breathe in a real atmosphere—not a man-made one, like on Mars.”

  “Can’t blame him,” I say.

  “Oh, please,” HARV says. “The terraformed Mars atmosphere isn’t all that different from Earth’s. It’s actually one of the greatest achievements of humankind.”

  “Thanks to the Gladians,” Alicia adds.

  “Of course,” HARV agrees. “Pretty much all of Earth’s mega leap in technology is due to the Gladians.”

  “Didn’t the Gladians actually terraform a part of Mars before they made contact with us?” I say.

  HARV looks at me with wide-open eyes. “Yes, that is correct.”

  “I know stuff,” I say.

  “The Gladians were always interested in human DNA,” Alicia says. “They did establish a small base on Mars before they made contact with most of Earth, just in case. They wanted to make sure the human race survived.” She pauses. “But the complete terraforming of Mars was a combined effort.”

  “Alicia is quite the historian,” Merinda notes.

  Interesting how the Gladians have always had such an interest in human DNA. Of course, that is something to ponder at a later date. Now that we are in the bedroom, it’s time to focus on matters at hand.

  Saturn’s dog cushion is a big, light-brown, fluffy pillow. It does look comfy, even to my human eyes. On top of the pillow is an old, bright-red ball. I bend down and pick up the ball. It is soft and makes a squeaking sound when squeezed. I guess a really intelligent dog is still a dog. Right next to the pillow are two old paper magazines, a Field and Stream and a Popular Electronics.

  “So he likes to read old-fashioned paper,” I note out loud.

  Merinda nods. “Yes, it’s expensive as anything, but Saturn asks for so little and gives so much. He says holographic and electronic displays give him a headache if he looks at them too long.”

  “I can identify with that,” I say.

  Merinda grabs a photo off of her nightstand and shows it to me. It’s a shot of her holding a medium-size, golden-brown, perfectly groomed collie. She points to the collie. “This is Saturn,” she says.

  “Yeah, I kind of figured that out.” Pointing at the picture, I say, “You’re also quite strong to be carrying around a thirty-plus–kilo dog.”

  “I work out,” Merinda tells me with a smile.

  “Zach, I have been scanning all security camera data in the area. I have no sign of Saturn…” HARV tells me.

  “Not surprising. He’s too low to the ground for most cameras to pick up.”

  This is going to take some old-fashioned legwork. I figure I have two places to start. He is a dog, and I get the feeling he longs for open space and green grass, so a nearby park is certainly a possibility. But he is also quite intelligent, so I can’t rule out the possibility he would go to a museum. Of course, a dog would certainly stand out more in a museum than in a park. And of course, this isn’t your average dog. Nevertheless, as the ball proved, you can add intelligence to the dog, but it is still a dog.

  4

  Looking at Saturn’s little dog area, I decide that the dog part of him must overwhelm his non-dog side.

  “HARV, where’s the nearest park?” I ask.

  “HTech’s new and improved Golden Gate Park,” HARV says, pointing out the window. “It’s only a few blocks away. It is a very fine park. It even has a museum and an aquarium.” HARV morphs into the animated image of a green park. There are people walking to and fro. “This is a live image of the park now from satellite data. No sign of Saturn. Of course, it might be hard to identify a specific dog from this height. There are no security cameras or drones, since the park is designated a low technology zone. Even P-Pods and communicators must be put on mute.” HARV shivers a little. He shakes his head. “I still don’t quite comprehend the need for such places…”

  “Sometimes we humans want breaks to collect our thoughts and commune with nature. It makes us closer to our ancestors,” I say. “We need to tune out the electronic noise.”

  I look at Merinda. “We’re going to check out Golden Gate Park. I’ll let you know if we find him. I assume you will contact us if he returns here.”

  Merinda nods. “Of course.” She leans forward and hugs me. I gotta admit—I like it. “Zach, I really appreciate this.”

  I pull back and look her in those eyes. “I just hope you feel the same way when you get my bill.”

  Merinda smiles.

  Carol, HARV, and I head out of the room.

  We arrive at the north entrance of Golden Gate Park. It’s a wide-open green space, dotted with a few park benches. Redbrick walking paths neatly dissect all the green spots. Assorted people are sitting, standing, and pretty much just hanging out. A couple of kids are flying kites. A bunch of teens are kicking a soccer ball back and forth. A young father is hitting a baseball to his kids. A few couples are sitting, having a picnic lunch. A kid floats by on a hover board.

  “There is a nice pond about eight hundred twenty-one meters to the south,” HARV says as we stroll through the park. “That is a very popular hangout spot.”

  As we walk, I scan the area for dogs. There are a lot of them. I guess when you have a city where green space is sparse, it’s only natural for owners to want to bring their pets to the most natural place possible.

  “There are a lot of dogs here,” I say.

  HARV looks at me. “Zach, I’ve counted thirty-three dogs within a one-hundred-meter radius. None of them match Saturn’s description. This park covers two thousand seventeen acres. Searching it manually for a small moving dog is going to prove most difficult. Not as difficult as, say, finding a needle in a haystack.” HARV rubs his chin. “I would more equate the difficulty level to finding a baseball bat in a haystack that is moving.” HARV shakes his head. “What I am trying to say is currently our finding him would be more of a matter of luck than of skill.”

  Yeah, I’m not one to rely on luck. Not that I have anything against luck. It’s just when I’m on a case, I find most of my luck is bad.

  I look at Carol. “Have you picked up any thoughts that might be from Saturn?” I ask.

  Carol takes a deep breath and then another. She closes her eyes. Another deep breath. She opens her eyes. “No,” she says softly. “Though it’s really hard to filter out all the ambient human thoughts.”

  “Dogs hear things differently than humans, right?” I say to HARV.

  HARV nods. “Yes, they can detect a far greater range of sounds.”

  I figure I have a couple of options. We can take advantage of Saturn being a dog and slightly psionic. We can let him know Merinda is worried about him and we are looking for him.
r />   “OK,” I tell HARV and Carol. “Let’s not leave this to chance. We’ll draw Saturn to us…”

  “That would be an excellent idea,” HARV says. “As long as you mean the dog, not the planet.” He has a wry smile on his face.

  “Yes, of course I mean the dog.”

  HARV shakes his head. “I can never be sure with you. You have taken many blows to the cranium.”

  Behind HARV, I see Carol snickering. Yep, my team loves me.

  “Here’s the plan,” I say pointing to HARV. “Broadcast—in a frequency only dogs can hear—that today, right outside the museum in the park, is an exhibit of the world’s biggest fire hydrant.”

  I point to Carol. “You broadcast psionically the same message. Maybe toss in that vendors will be giving away dog treats.”

  As we head toward the museum, HARV says, “Do you really think this will work?”

  I shrug. “It can’t hurt.”

  “Unless Saturn gets angry that there is no giant fire hydrant and no dog treats and bites you in the butt,” HARV snickers.

  “Yeah, I’ll have you project a giant holographic fire hydrant. That should make him happy enough to get a couple of tail wags.” I look at Carol. “Plus, change the dog treats to belly rubs.”

  We walk for a few more minutes, all the while keeping our eyes—or simulated eyes—peeled, looking for Saturn. We don’t spot him, but the park’s museum soon comes into view. I know the museum here is well over a hundred years old, but they renovate it every few decades. It’s a three-level copper building that is meant to be modern and yet ordinary, as if it just sprung up naturally among all the trees in the park. An observation tower shaped like an upside-down pyramid accents the building. The tower was meant to look all New Wavy when it was first added onto the building, and thanks to today’s eclectic tastes in design, it still looks fairly futuristic.

  The quad leading to the museum has many sculptures dotting its landscape. We can take advantage of this.

  “OK, HARV,” I say, pointing to an open spot between sculptures of a giant apple and a rainbow. “That looks like a good place to project our world’s biggest fire hydrant.”