Flames: Galaxy On Fire, Book 2

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Flames: Galaxy On Fire, Book 2 Page 4

by Craig Robertson


  Her immediate reaction was to leave them be, but her curiosity was piqued too.

  “Look,” said Slapgren as he rummaged through a top carton, “ammunition. Just what we needed most.”

  “Yes, we can use them in our imaginary guns.”

  “And pants. A case of trousers of various size but one boring color. How not useful.”

  “They’re more edible than bullets,” she replied.

  “Yeah, unless we change into something that eats junk.”

  “Look, she said holding up a prize, “canned fruit.” She could tell by the picture.

  He studied the image. “What the heck is that? It’s round, yellow, and has a large pit.”

  “I don’t know.” She picked up a rock. “But I bet it tastes better than trousers.”

  A few hard blows later, they both stuck their fingers in and pulled out a canned peach, dripping in heavy syrup.

  “Ah,” exclaimed Mirraya, “that’s so good I think I can die now.”

  “Not me. I need a ton of more of these first,” responded Slapgren as he wolfed down peach halves whole.

  “Either of ya move, I’ll kill ya and save the choice making,” said a harsh voice from behind them.

  They froze.

  “Turn around nice and slow,” the voice commanded.

  They did. There stood a very old man with an even older gun pointed at Slapgren.

  “We mean no harm,” said Mirraya. “We’re on a hike and found this by accident.” She jerked her head backward toward the palettes of boxes.

  “A hike, ya say? What kind of fool kids hike in a battle zone? The kind that take me for a fool, I’ll answer for ya. You’re stealing my provisions. To me, that makes ya thieves.” He eased his rifle down and squinted at them hard. “In fact, what the hell kind a kids are ya? Ya don’t look right.”

  “We’re fine, sir. Thanks for asking,” replied Slapgren.

  Mirraya gave her friend a stern look. “Why don’t you lower you gun, and we’ll be out of you cave, no harm done. We’ll even pay for the can of sweet things we ate.”

  “Oh, I bet ya’d like that. Maybe knock me on the head as ya pass me by?” He coughed a dry laugh.

  “No, sir. We’ll be out of here and never look back.”

  “Until I went home. Then ya’d be back and stuff yourselves but good.”

  Was he going to shoot them for discovering his treasures? She inched away from Slapgren, hoping to separate enough from him so that one of them could retaliate if the old man started shooting. To distract him, she started begging. “Please, kind sir. I’m a frightened child, and my brother’s a half-wit. We’re trying to survive since they came and killed our parents. You’ve got to help us. You just gotta.”

  “Why’s that, missy? And who done the killin’? Locals or Adamant?”

  “Does it matter who murdered our family?” she replied, beginning to cry. “Oh, mister, it was awful. They shot Pa, then they beat Ma. My half-wit brother and I barely escaped.”

  “Ya mentioned he was an idiot before, missy. It don’t bear repeating. You’re family. Kin gots to stick together.”

  “Thank you, sir. That’s good advice, I’m sure of it.”

  “I’ll bet ya are,” he scoffed. “And get back next to your half-wit brother before I make him an only child too.”

  Mirraya started wailing in terror and grief. She put on quite the show. She dropped to her knees, covered her face with her hands, and really upped the volume of her misery. Then, she fainted, tumbling in the opposite direction from Slapgren.

  “Hey, don’t do that,” shouted the old fellow. “I ain’t a medico or likely to fetch one. Get up ’fore I shoot ya for being such a bad actress.”

  Mirraya was unresponsive.

  The man slid over to in front of her and toed her with his boot. “I said—”

  The wolf hit the old man like a falling piano. It angled so that when they impacted the dirt, it remained on top. The rifle flew to the side with a clang, and a shot went off. The bullet zinged harmlessly off the walls a few times then fell silent. In an instant, the wolf had its fangs covering the man’s throat, but it did not bite down. It only snarled viciously.

  “Okay, Slapgren, let him up,” said Mirraya as she rose. “Get behind me.”

  He seemed reluctant at first, but sprang behind her in one thrust. He turned and growled at the old man as he staggered to his feet.

  Mirraya retrieved the rifle, emptied the magazine, and handed it back to the man once he was fully up.

  “Look,” she said to him, “we really don’t want any trouble. Let us go, and we’ll call it a day, okay?”

  The man rubbed the back of his head gently. “I guess ya mean what ya said about being no threat, seeing as how ya could’a had your—” He scanned the cave quickly. “Where’d that brother of yours get to so quick?”

  “Just let us go in peace, and you won’t need to worry about that, okay, old timer?”

  “Look, I guess I was wrong and unfair. For that, I’m sorry. I’d like to make it up. You’re welcome to whatever ya want from my stash there.” He gestured toward the palettes.

  “That is kind. Of course, I insist we pay you.” Neither teen had any money on them.

  “No, I wouldn’t hear of it, seeing as how cruel I was. Take what ya can carry and be off with ya.”

  “That’s most generous. I think we’ll take a few cans of those … ah, what did you call them?”

  “The canned peaches? Ya, they’re pretty good, ain’t they?”

  “Yes, a few cans of peaches.”

  “I don’t have a can opener here, but if ya follow me back to my place, I’d toss one in for free. Makes opening the cans a whole lot easier.” He smiled, showing how few teeth remained.

  “Thank you, but no,” she said coolly. “We’ll get along fine without it.”

  “I could give you a map too. I got a few back home. It’d make your hike easier. Maybe a tad safer too. In fact, I could give ya a knife, maybe some coins, to help in your progress.”

  Those really would help. She was tempted, but was ready to refuse.

  “Ya know, I’ve lived in these parts all my life. I took the time to mark on the maps where everybody’s troops are and where they ain’t, if ya take my meaning?”

  That was too tempting an offer to pass on.

  “Do you live far?” she asked.

  “No,” he replied loudly. Pointing to the cave opening, he said, “It’s only a minute or two that way. My missus’d be glad for company what didn’t rob, threaten, and shoot us, truth be told. Ya’d be doing me a favor of grievous magnitude if ya’d come along.”

  “All I want is the map. Then we’ll be on our way.”

  “Suit yourself,” he responded throwing up his arms. “I’m just glad to be able to make amends for my bad behavior, don’t ya know?”

  “Fine. We’ll meet you at the cave entrance in a minute,” she said waving him to go.

  “Do ya mind if I pick up my bullets, miss?” he asked bowing his head.

  “They’ll be here when you come back later,” she said.

  “Just curious. Ain’t no big deal,” he mumbled as he hobbled away, using the butt of his rifle as a cane.

  By the time she turned, Slapgren was back to normal. “Do you trust that man?” he asked. “And stop, I say stop, calling me a half-wit.”

  “I was embellishing to gain sympathy. Lighten up.”

  “No, you were not. You were being mean, and you know it.”

  “Can we like discuss this later when we’re safe? Hm?”

  He snapped his head in disgust. “All right, but I’m not going to just let this go, you know. You really went too far.”

  “What a fragile ego you have. Can’t you focus on survival and not be petty?”

  “Nice try. We will talk later.” With that he turned and collected a few cans.

  It occurred to her she might have hurt his feelings. Best not to rub it in now, she decided. She’d have a chance to gloat lat
er.

  The old man leaned on his gun by the opening. Without a word, he started walking away. The teens followed. The walk to his dwelling was farther than he’d led them to believe, but not oppressively so.

  “Come on in,” he said when they stepped up on the porch. Inside he said, “Have a seat if you’d like while I tell the missus what’s going on.”

  He left them alone in the parlor.

  “I don’t like this,” whispered Slapgren.

  “Me either, but I want that map.”

  An appropriately ancient woman followed the old man back into the room.

  “My useless man tells me he near shot ya,” she said as she walked passed them. “For that, ya have my apology. It isn’t an easy thing being wedded to a social moron. Let me get ya some cheese.” She disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Cheese?” Slapgren asked in a hiss. “Who mentioned cheese?”

  “Don’t bother,” Mirraya called out. “We’re leaving.”

  She scooted Slapgren toward the door. There was no mention of cheese. She didn’t even like cheese.

  The old man took her elbow very gently. “If ya must be going before the missus can cut the cheese, at least let me get ya the maps I promised. They’re in my desk, over here.” He looked over his shoulder to Slapgren. “Lad, ya can come or ya can stay put. We’re not leaving the room.

  He followed, standing right next to Mirraya.

  The man fumbled around in the desk a good while, then spilled a pile of papers on the floor, as if by accident. “I’ll get it,” he said holding up a hand. “I made the mess, so I’ll clear it up.”

  He bent with groans and twisted with grunts as he slowly gathered the papers.

  “There’s no mercy in getting old,” he muttered. “No justice in it either.”

  “Here’s that cheese he promised ya,” said the crone as she shuffled slowly into the room. She had a wrapped lump in her arms. It seemed to weigh more than she did.

  “Run,” shouted Mirraya as she bolted for the door.

  Slapgren didn’t need to be asked twice. He raced at her side as she threw open the door. Then He crashed into her back as they both slammed on the brakes. A row of Adamant soldiers pointed plasma guns at their heads.

  “You will drop to the ground while you are restrained,” shouted an officer from behind the troops. “Resistance is futile.”

  NINE

  “I have to thank you. Your plan seems to have worked, at least so far,” said Al to Garustfulous through the bars.

  “So far?” Garustfulous basically guffawed back. “What aspect, part, or sub-segment hasn’t performed better than an overpaid whore?”

  “Please don’t use the vulgar speech in front of—” Al began to say.

  “Oh honestly, Al. It cute, but you’re assuming my ears are so pure. Remember, I traveled with your pilot for quite some time now. I’m not a schoolgirl at her first rodeo.”

  “What is she talking about?” asked a stunned Garustfulous.

  “My dearest has mixed a metaphor, but I find it enchanting,” responded Al.

  “What’s a rodeo?”

  “It is unimportant at this juncture,” replied Al. “What is important is what comes next. We shall see if your troops disperse in a month.”

  “What’s a month?” cried a confused hound.

  “The time allotted to see if I trust you or vaporize you.”

  “Would you do that, Allet?” asked Blessing.

  “Let’s hope you both never find out.”

  “What’s an allet? You computers are malfunctioning, I can tell. Great. That’s simply great. Who’s going to feed me in this prison when your both blow a fuse?”

  “Or clean up the mess,” Al snarked, “both pre- and post- your passing.”

  “I hate computers,” he snapped.

  “You and me both,” said Al. “You and me both, pal.”

  TEN

  I was rather enjoying my trek. I’d come to love Azsuram when I lived there. Now I could slowly walk and see it again. Much had changed, but much was the same. The smell was different. That bothered me. Gone was the fresh, untouched-forest scent. It smelled of any big city anywhere. But the remaining smell of the vegetation itself was an old friend. When I was human, I would wonder if the odor of a place changed, or if it was me forgetting and giving into nostalgia. But as an android, I could compare the actual mass spectrograms. I wasn’t sure that was an improvement, but it was a fact.

  Continuing at my slow, steady pace I did have time to reflect. Not sure that was a good thing either, but it was inevitable. I thought of Sapale, Kayla, the darn teens I’d taken under my wing, and I thought of JJ. I missed them all. I hoped the teens weren’t separated from me as definitively as the others. That worried me a lot. When one had lost as much as I had in my too-long life, every added subtraction hurt exponentially more. I was as tough as they came, don’t get me wrong. But remember, I intentionally had myself turned off because I’d had my share of suffering. To be reanimated only to expand my list of sorrows chewed at me like a dog on a gnarled bone.

  I also thought about how to defeat EJ. I knew it was going to be hard. He’d not only held the Adamant at bay, he’d survived two billion years on his wits and resourcefulness. I would never face a more formidable foe. Hey, he was me. Not to brag, but I was the best.

  When I ran into EJ, I figured I had but a few seconds to act. If I lingered, he’d aim that damn magic of his at me, and it’d all be over. I could shoot him in the back with the laser in my finger. It was powerful enough to cut right through him. But I couldn’t convince myself that I could back-shoot anyone. It was too snake-in-the-grass for me. Better to die a proud idiot than live as a spineless victor. He lacked my command prerogatives. I could use them to lift him or try and control him, but at that range, if I failed, I'd be the deadest of ducks.

  I knew I’d play it by ear and do something unexpected, spontaneous, and dumb. I was Jon Ryan. Why change the winning formula? I was surprised that as the days passed I didn’t run into any fighters of either side. Sporadically I heard combat, but it was brief, even when intense. I always pulled for the locals, even though EJ had set them on me. Hey, they were distant relatives. Plus, I didn’t know how voluntarily they were helping the evil one. They might have at first, but fear may have been their current motive. EJ was not a people person.

  I began to trip on what Toño would say about EJ. As his creator, he would feel responsible. It would be Dr. Frankenstein and his monster all over again. Doc sure as hell would try to switch him—wait. Wait a freakin minute. I wonder if Doc put any back doors or hidden algorithms in us? If he had and I could find them, maybe I could use that against EJ. But he never mentioned one. He’d put them in other androids, but not the original astronauts. He told me so much. I’d never found one, but I’d never really looked. I could run some diagnostics, but Toño wouldn’t have made them easy to find. No, he was too smart.

  But, what the hell, I had weeks with nothing to do but not get my ass blown up. Looking for a secret program would give me something to do. Okay, it would look like an innocent bunch of code. It would also be code I’d never executed, because, duh, I’d never—

  Sometimes I was so stupid, so totally oblivious, I surprised even myself. It made me wonder if all those girlfriends who’d told me the same thing were right.

  Nah.

  Toño did turn me off. And he never turned off EJ, so he wouldn’t have as big a clue as I did. I pulled up the programming leading up to my decommissioning. Blah, blah, blah. Yes of course, no big deal there, blah, blah—

  What the hell was that code? There was absolutely no way Toño would use that turn of phrase to switch me off. Y-cross 654 Red-12? A football audible? The dude switched me off with a quarterback call? If I ever saw him, man, I’d … I’d complain.

  In computer lingo, there was something called a sandbox. It was a place secured from the rest of the computer where potentially dangerous programs could be run and tested. If they were
viruses or some other bad things, they would execute harmlessly. Then the exposed code could be deleted. I’d never worked with a sandbox, but it didn’t take me all that long to rig one up. I put the Y-cross algorithm in, and bingo, the Jon Ryan construct turned off.

  Then I did two things. First, I stored the code in a closed box. Yeah, yeah, it wasn’t a box. It was a figurative box in one of my ancillary computers. I specifically put it in one that didn’t directly interface with my main systems. That way, if it activated despite of my efforts to contain it, the program wouldn’t close me down. Then I deleted it from where it was hidden. I was stoked. I had a weapon to turn off EJ. I had absolutely no idea how I would insert it or activate it, but I had me a doomsday weapon. Oorah.

  I arrived near Stingray three weeks later. I made it a point to be there several days before the Adamant were due to split. Sure enough, I found a small detachment patrolling the area. They certainly hadn’t located the cloaked cube. If they had, there’d be a small city around it by then trying to figure out a way in. I found a secure vantage point and did what us robots could do. I froze in place and sat there waiting for the Adamant to leave.

  While I crouched, bored beyond tears, I debated whether it was smarter for me to try and ambush EJ or just get in the vortex and split. I could leave the kids a message later. Getting away was probably the right choice. But I would probably never get another chance to surprise EJ. I simply couldn’t pass that up. I was a risk taker. It was in my job description.

  The Adamant departed quietly like clockwork at dawn the morning following their thirty-day operation. I gave them an hour to be fully gone. Then I moved to the spot I felt was the best to bushwhack EJ from. It was along the path I would have taken for approach, but far enough from the cube that he’d still not be on his highest alert. A few large trees fused their trunks to provide a perfect cover.

  I went all the way around the back of Stingray to avoid being seen. I slithered up behind the trees and slowly stood. I peeked my head around to confirm the vantage point’s perfect view. There stood EJ. His eyes were closed, and his lips moved without making a sound. Before I could say, “oh shit,” his eyes snapped open, he pointed both palms at me, and he said, “Ho zaba zaba doh.” Seriously, those were his words.

 

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