The Raven-Haired Rogue: A Novella

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The Raven-Haired Rogue: A Novella Page 3

by John Zakour


  HARV nods in agreement.

  A second later, a man-size orange and red fire hydrant appears in what was the open space. I know it’s only the image of a fire hydrant, but it looks perfectly solid.

  HARV smiles and puffs out his chest. “The quality is so fine due to my new patented solid light technology.”

  “Good for you,” I say, patting him on the shoulder. I turn to Carol. “Are you broadcasting a ‘come here’ message?”

  “Yes,” Carol answers.

  “If this doesn’t draw him out, he’s not in this park,” I say.

  “It’s going to work,” Carol tells me, putting her hand to her forehead. “I can sense an intelligence that’s not human coming toward us.” Carol points toward some bushes that outline the quad area.

  Sure enough, a long furry nose pops out from the bushes. A golden-brown collie sticks his entire head out and sniffs around. The dog darts out from the protection of the bushes and scampers toward us. Saturn bounds across the field with the unbridled joy that only a dog can muster.

  I smile. It’s nice when a case works out.

  Suddenly, maybe twenty meters from us, Saturn drops to the ground, stopping dead in his tracks. My keen PI eye spots a tranq needle jutting out of his neck.

  A bot hovers above him. “Unlicensed canine spotted and stopped.” A net pops out from the bot and telescopes toward the now out-cold Saturn. “Offending animal to be detained.”

  “You smiled too soon,” HARV tells me. “You managed to get Saturn captured by a DCB—a dogcatcher bot.”

  “Yeah, he’s not captured yet,” I growl.

  I watch the net from the dogcatcher bot move closer and closer to Saturn.

  “I didn’t get this close to be stopped by some two-bit bot,” I snarl.

  “Zach, DCBs have way more than two-bit processors. While they are not nearly as advanced as say, I am, they still need the processing power to identify a dog, determine if it is a stray, and then apprehend it.” HARV notices me glaring at him. “Oh, perhaps you are referring to the price of the bot using an antiquated term? In that, I must inform you that DCBs cost far more than two bits—” HARV’s eyes start to flash. “In fact, they cost twenty thousand credits.” HARV studies me for a nanosecond. “Therefore, if you are planning to blow away the bot, the fine will be twenty thousand credits for the new bot, plus another twenty-five thousand credits for discharging your weapon in public without cause.” HARV points a finger at me. “I’m sure you are aware that even licensed PIs are not allowed to do that.” HARV puts his hands on his hips and lifts his head in thought. “Still, Merinda is paying you two hundred thousand credits for finding Saturn. So you would still turn a profit despite the charges.”

  I scratch my chin. “Yeah, but those fees are obscene. This is a matter of principle. What are our chances of reasoning with the dogcatcher bot and getting it to give us Saturn?”

  “The dog or the planet?” HARV asks.

  “The dog.” I sigh.

  “You would have just as much chance as getting the planet from the DCB. DCBs are very single-minded. Once they capture a dog, they will only release it to its owner, after he or she pays a twenty thousand credit fine.” HARV’s eyes blink red. “Plus there would be a twenty-five thousand credit processing fee.”

  “Doesn’t that seem a bit excessive?” I ask.

  HARV nods. “Apparently, they do not want people to let their dogs roam free and, well, do what dogs do all over town. Frisco prides itself on cleanliness.”

  “Plus, it is kind of irresponsible to let your dog roam free,” Carol adds.

  I take a deep breath and think about my options. Saturn is now in the dogcatcher bot’s net, so I don’t have a lot of time. I need to blow the bot away, but in a quiet way that won’t attract attention. “HARV, are dogcatcher bots EMP-proof?”

  “Actually, no,” HARV tells me. “Interesting enough, the New Frisco City Council did debate the issue five years ago but considered it to be too cost inefficient, even in a city with Zachary Nixon Johnson.” HARV smiles at me. “How nice that they recognize you.”

  I reach down into my left ankle holster and pull out my backup weapon: GUS. GUS looks harmless enough, like a long white tube. GUS is actually one of the most powerful weapons on Earth. I don’t like to use him much because, well, he has a personality.

  As soon as my hand touches GUS, he glows into life.

  “GUS, reporting and ready for action, Mr. Johnson, sir!” he shouts. “How are we saving the world today?”

  I aim GUS at the dogcatcher bot. “You’re going to fire an electromagnetic pulse at that DCB.”

  “That doesn’t sound very sporting,” GUS says.

  Having a weapon with a personality can be a real pain in the behind. I always have to convince GUS that he is being used properly.

  “GUS, if we don’t do this, a poor, innocent dog that doesn’t know our laws will be put in doggy prison. Who knows what could happen to him there?”

  GUS hums for a second. It’s the theme from Jeopardy.

  “Acknowledged,” GUS says. “EMP fired.”

  The dogcatcher bot drops from the sky. Carol and I rush over to Saturn. As I remove the net from Saturn, Carol sends out soothing mental messages to the crowd of onlookers to make sure they don’t question my actions.

  Saturn looks up at me and grins. He is groggy, but conscious. “Nice job, Mr. Johnson,” he thinks to me. “You passed our test. We have a problem. One of her staff wants to kill Merinda. We need you to find out which one.”

  5

  The good news is HARV, Carol, and I have found Saturn and are now walking him back to Merinda, his owner or boss or buddy or whatever. The bad—or at least, interesting—news is it appears Saturn’s running away was a ploy to get us alone with the dog.

  “Did I hear you correctly?” I think to Saturn.

  “If you heard that somebody wants to kill my friend Merinda, then yes,” Saturn thinks to me.

  “This is different,” Carol thinks to both of us.

  “What? What? What?” HARV complains in my brain. “I can’t hear anything from Saturn, only you two…”

  “Sorry, HARV, we’ll fill you in when we get more info,” I say. I turn my attention back to Saturn. “So what makes you think somebody wants to kill Merinda?”

  Saturn looks up at me from Carol’s arms. “On our trip here, as we were arriving, I picked up a thought—a very angry thought: I am going to kill Merinda.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask. “That’s a pretty serious allegation.”

  “Of course I’m sure!” Saturn thinks and whimpers. “I’m very attuned to people’s thoughts.”

  “Then how come you can’t identify the thinker?” I prompt.

  Saturn shakes his head and pants a little. I assume that’s his sign of frustration. It appears I have a knack for frustrating all sorts of mammals. “Mr. Johnson, as I am sure you have noticed, I am a dog. While I am a very advanced dog, one who hardly ever sniffs a butt, I still have trouble identifying or pinpointing stray thoughts from other species…”

  “It is hard,” Carol chimes in,. She pets him. Saturn starts wagging his tail.

  “Why would anybody want to harm Merinda?” I ask.

  “Humans can be quite petty and mean,” Saturn thinks to me.

  “While I still can’t pick up Saturn’s thoughts, I can read yours clearly,” HARV says. “It is my understanding that many on Mars do not want Mars to improve their relationship with Earth.”

  “HARV, I’m relaying your thoughts to Saturn,” Carol thinks to all of us.

  “The electronic being is right. Many on Mars want things to stay exactly how they are. They look at Earth as petty and corrupt, and would do anything to stop us from having anything to do with you,” Saturn thinks.

  I assume Carol relays those thoughts to HARV while I process the information. I can certainly believe that some Martians wouldn’t want to increase their ties to Earth. Mars Colony is officially only twenty-three years o
ld, yet it prides itself on its independence. Of course, even though it is officially only twenty-three years old, I know the colony has been around longer, as the Gladians have been keeping human clones on Mars for well over fifty years. The official Gladian line is that they were helping out Earth by keeping backup humans around, just in case. So you can’t blame Martians for being a little leery.

  “How many others were on the flight here with you besides Merinda and Alicia?” I ask.

  “There were three others: Maxxx, who is Merinda’s bodyguard; Tezza, her PR person; and HAL50, her consultant…” HARV says.

  “No pilot on the ship?” I ask.

  “No pilot needed,” HARV says. “The ship is piloted by the SRIP, a smart robot intelligent pilot system.”

  “OK, are the others still looking for you?” I ask Saturn.

  “Yes.”

  “OK, HARV. Contact Merinda and let her know we have Saturn, but tell her not to tell the others, even Alicia.”

  “Check, boss.”

  It seems obvious to me that somebody aboard that ship doesn’t want Mars and Earth to have closer ties. “I need to learn more about each of the people traveling with Merinda.”

  “HAL50 is actually an android with a human brain,” HARV tells me.

  “Well then, I need to learn more about all the people and near humans traveling with Merinda. When is Merinda supposed to meet with the World Council?” I ask.

  “Tomorrow at noon,” HARV tells me.

  “OK, get me as much info on the crew as you can!”

  “Zach, I’m having trouble gathering information on Maxxx, Tezza, Alicia, and HAL50. Being Martians, we don’t have much data on them,” HARV informs me.

  “Talk to the intelligent ship. I am sure it has some data.”

  “I have, and the SRIP ship says, and I quote, ‘Sorry. No go, Earthling,’” HARV answers.

  “That’s not helpful,” I say.

  “It’s insulting,” HARV says. “I consider myself being above planetary boundaries.”

  “OK, HARV, talk to Merinda and see if she can get SRIP to open up.” Looking at Saturn, I say, “What can you tell me about Merinda’s shipmates?”

  “Well—as a dog, you know—I pretty much trust everybody.”

  “Yeah, but any of them that you just want to bite now and then?” I probe.

  “Mr. Johnson, I may be an animal, but I’m not an animal.”

  “OK then, just give me your initial impressions.”

  Saturn looks up at me. “Well, I’ll give you my feedback, but please remember I am biased, being a dog and all. I can’t imagine Maxxx, Tezza, and Alicia ever hurting Merinda. They have all been with her for as long as I can remember, and they are very loyal—almost as loyal as I am. Of course, that being said, they will do whatever they feel is necessary to help Mars thrive.”

  “OK then, what about the robot with the human brain?”

  “HAL50 is hard to read. He is not a true citizen of Mars. He is an Earth expatriate. He said he never felt comfortable on Earth.”

  “HARV and Carol, are you getting all this?” I think to them.

  “Yes, Carol is relaying the information to me. It’s a weird, but functional, way to communicate. I am looking up information on HAL50 now.” HARV informs me.

  “Halt, Zachary Nixon Johnson!” I hear coming from above us.

  Looking up, I see three golden metal cylinders with big, red, pulsating sensors on top. They are dropping toward us. I recognize these cylinders as World Council drones.

  “How in the DOS does the Would Council know we are here, and why would they care?” I mumble.

  “I’ve been mentally talking with my grandma, your future mother-in-law, Councilwoman Helena Gevada,” Carol says. That explains why she’s been so quiet. “I thought they might know if anybody on Earth was less than thrilled by Earth and Mars improving their relationships. Please don’t be angry.”

  I lean over and give her a little hug. Looking her in the eyes, I tell her, “How could I be mad? That’s actually good PI work.”

  Of course, the drones droned on. “Zachary Nixon Johnson, your presence is immediately required.”

  I look up at the drones, which are now mere meters from us. Holding up a finger and pointing at Saturn, I say, “I actually want to talk to the World Council myself. But first, I need to return this poor dog to his owner. I can be at World Council HQ in an hour, two tops.”

  The three drones lock their laser sights on me. Three red dots appear on the middle of my body. I raise my hands slowly.

  “It appears the World Council wants to see you now,” HARV tells me.

  “Yeah, typical politicians. It takes them forever to get anything done, yet they think their time is so much more valuable than ours,” I mutter to HARV and Carol. Turning to the floating drones, I remind them, “My future mother-in-law, Helena, is the one who sent you. There is no way she would let you kill me. Electra—my girlfriend and Helena’s daughter—would be way upset.”

  “We are the latest in drone technology. We are equipped with the PAIN weapons system,” one of the drones says to me, like I’m supposed to know what that means.

  HARV leans in to me and for some reason whispers, “It stands for ‘person’s attitude instant neutralizer.’ It causes a subject to experience the worst pain in his or her life without actually killing the person. It’s quite nifty and a great acroynm.”

  Now Carol leans in to me. “Now, that is something my grandma, Helena, would do to you.”

  I don’t doubt Carol on that one. Helena has made it clear that while she does tolerate me (after all, I have saved the world a few times), she doesn’t think I am nearly good enough for her little girl. Thing is, there has been a threat to Merinda’s life. I need to get to the bottom of that before it’s too late.

  “HARV, how much do these bots cost?” I ask mentally.

  “Each drone costs ten million credits.”

  “That seems pretty pricey.”

  “Agreed. The drones should only cost five million credits, but the WC pays extra for the gold chrome. They justify that by saying tax payers expect them to have the best.”

  OK, so it would be expensive to destroy the drones, plus it probably wouldn’t be a great career move getting the World Council angry at me, especially since my future mother-in-law is on the council. I need a way to get out of this peacefully, but still get my way. I look over at Saturn sitting contentedly in Carol’s arms. That’s my key to getting out of this. Trick is, I can’t move too quickly without the drones activating the PAIN system.

  “Carol, float Saturn over to me,” I think.

  Carol releases her hold on Saturn, and he glides over to me. I take Saturn in my arms and show him to the drones.

  “Shoot me now, while I’m holding a cute dog from Mars in my arms, and you will cause quite the media uproar,” I inform the drones.

  The drones’ red lights start blinking.

  “You have an incoming message from esteemed Councilwoman Helena Gevada. Will you accept it?” the three drones drone in unison.

  “Ah, sure.”

  The holographic image of my future mother-in-law appears in front of me, projected from the middle drone. Helena is a strong, confident woman, much like her daughter. In fact, she is so confident, she has no problem letting her hair grow gray. That’s something you don’t see much of these days.

  “Hello, Zach,” she says.

  “Helena,” I say.

  “Hi, Abuela,” Carol says with a wave.

  “Zach,” Helena tells me. “I may have been a bit too forceful trying to convince you to come see me first. But I really do feel it will be in your best interest to see me before you make another move.”

  6

  I weigh Helena’s words. I need to get Saturn back to Merinda, but I also figure it is in my best interest to at least hear Helena out.

  “I’ll be there ASAP,” I tell Helena.

  “Very well,” she says with a smile. “My drones will br
ing you in.” Before I have a chance to reply, she pushes a button and her holographic image disappears.

  The drones levitate over to me. “Are you ready, Mr. Johnson?” they ask.

  Holding up a finger, I tell them, “One minute, please.” I turn to Carol and hand her Saturn. “Here, take Saturn to Merinda and stay by her side. Tell her not to call back any of her people yet. I don’t want them alone with her until I get back there.”

  “Got it,” Carol says, taking Saturn into her arms.

  “I thank you for this,” Saturn thinks to me.

  I pet him on the head. “Don’t thank me until I figure out who’s behind all this.” Looking up at the drones, I say, “OK, drones, I’m ready to roll.”

  The drones just hover there.

  “That means he’s ready to go,” HARV tells them.

  The middle drone flies directly over me. “This won’t hurt a bit,” it reassures me. A net shoots out of the drone’s bottom part. The net lands on top of me, engulfing me.

  “Sweet, a nano net,” HARV says as the drone lifts me up into the air.

  “Well, this is kind of undignified,” I groan.

  “Yeah, but it’s still not the worst way you’ve ever traveled,” HARV tells me.

  Trying to get my mind off of being dragged through the air in a drone’s net, I turn my attention back to the case.

  “HARV, I need you to coax the intelligent ship SRIP a bit more. See if we can get any clues.”

  “I tried that once before, and he was less than responsive.”

  “Then be charming, HARV. Surely you can be charming.”

  “Zach, I am not a human. Therefore, I have no ego for you to stroke, but I will try.”

  We float through the air for a few more minutes. The shiny ivory tower that is the World Council building comes into view.

  “Any luck, HARV?”

  “Zach, I am a highly sophisticated cognitive processor. I do not need luck.”

  “Any progress?”

  Silence.

  “SRIP insists he is doing lots of really important work preparing for his flight back to Mars. He has the lives of his passengers to take into account first.”

  “So no,” I think back.

 

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