Rocketship Patrol

by Greco, J. I.

  Cortez clenched her teeth and slowly lowered Igon to the deck, releasing her grip.

  Igon skittered back out of reach to stand next to Igon-2. “Here’s how this is gonna work, my dear.”

  “We’re gonna go to the Otulak system,” Igon-2 said.

  “And we’re gonna sell the data,” Igon said.

  Igon-2 continued, “Just like we planned…”

  “Okay, so looks like we’ve lost the superluminal engine,” Dag said, coming around the junk pile, his attention on scratching his crotch as he waddled up next to Cortez. “Is everybody back here all right?” His voice trailed off as he noticed the robots.

  “Can we get back to you on that?” Cortez asked.

  “Yeah, no problem…” Dag said, sliding behind Cortez.

  “If I may,” Igon said. “Yes, just like we planned. Only I’m taking all of the money.”

  “We’re taking all of it,” Igon-2 corrected him.

  “The point is,” Igon said, “this is now the plan and nobody’ll get hurt if you all just accept it and move on.”

  Dag poked his head out around Cortez’s waist. “What about our cut?”

  “Your cut?” Igon snorted. “Forfeited it when you abandoned me to the cops, didn’t you?”

  “But we might reinstate a smaller slice if you cooperate,” Igon-2 said. He turned his three eyes up towards Cortez. “If you all cooperate.”

  “All well and good, robots,” Cortez said, “but I see one tiny little problem.”

  Igon stroked the unconscious Loy’s hair with a claw. “Nothing shooting the yokel won’t fix. Behave or your fellow cop dies, cop.”

  Behind her, Dag gasped.

  Cortez winced. “Heard that bit, eh?”

  “Wait, who’s a cop?” Igon-2 asked.

  Igon pointed at Cortez.

  “Wow,” Igon-2 said, “that’s gonna take some getting used to.” He paused, his eyes momentarily blinking to black. “Okay, used to it. Carry on.”

  Cortez shook her head. “Me cooperating isn’t the problem I see.” She thumbed behind her at Dag. “You heard him, you morons took out the superluminal engine.”

  “Took it out real good, too,” Igon-2 said proudly.

  “And stranded us,” Cortez pointed out. She twisted around to ask Dag, “Where did he strand us?”

  “Between systems,” Dag said. “Deep, deep space.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” Cortez glowered at the robots. “We’re not going anywhere. We’re gonna die out here. You killed us.”

  “You know,” Igon said after a moment, “she has a point.”

  Igon-2 huffed. “Knew your plan sounded too perfect.”

  “Oh, it’s my plan now, is it?” Igon jumped over Loy’s body and skittered up to Cortez. “See, Gladys, that whole out-of-the-box don’t-destroy-your-engine insight is exactly the kind of thing that tells me you and me would make the perfect team. Professionally…” He stretched a claw up towards her hand. “And romantically.”

  Behind her, Dag gasped again.

  Cortez’s eyes went wide. “Huh?”

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” Igon-2 said, lowering the raygun and clanking around Loy. He pushed Igon out of the way and took Cortez’s right hand in his. “Great towering flesh goddess...”

  “Oh no you don’t!” Igon screeched, trying to shoved him away. “She’s mine!”

  Igon-2 was unmoved. Joints creaking, he dropped to one knee and stared up into Cortez’s confused face. “Cop or no cop, will you do me the honor of becoming my bride?”

  “Your what?” Cortez asked.

  With a scream, Igon leapt, throwing himself into Igon-2’s chest.

  Shoved back by the impact, Igon-2 dropped the raygun and the pair of robots went tumbling, a rolling ball of flailing limbs whacking away at each other with abandon.

  Loy shook herself awake and slowly got to her feet. Keeping a weary, confused eye on the robots, she grabbed her raygun off the deck. Still shaky from being knocked unconscious, she raised the raygun and aimed it in the general direction of the whirling mass of robot limbs. “Stop it, both of you – you’re under arrest!”

  An impossibly fast moving, glowing fist-sized cloud of a thousand sharp ceramic micro-needles slammed into the ball of robots.

  One of the robots screamed. A moment later, they were apart, Igon skittering away on all six limbs, leaving Igon-2 trying to pick himself off the floor. He managed to stand, just barely, and stare down at the smoking, sparking hole in his own chest. “Oh... look... you’ve broken my heart.”

  He glanced up and collapsed to the deck, the light in his three eyes fading away.

  Loy looked down at her raygun. She hadn’t fired. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Cortez raise her needler to her lips and blow smoke away from its barrel.

  “Die, usurper!” Igon yelled, kicking Igon-2’s body. He pranced up to Cortez. “I knew you’d make the right choice. I’m thinking a honeymoon on…” His voice trailed off as he noted Cortez’s needler was pointed down at his head. “So, it’s a no on the proposal, then?”

  Cortez holstered her needler. “Let’s see how the rest of the day goes.”

  Igon threw his arms around Cortez’s legs and squeezed tight. “You’ve made me the happiest robot in the galaxy!”

  “That wasn’t really a ‘yes’, robot.” Cortez pried him off. “First thing’s first. We’ve still got to get to Otulak. If we can.”

  “Leave that to me, my sweet fleshy confection.” Igon snapped a claw at Dag. “You – grab some tools and come with me. That engine’s not gonna fix itself.”

  Dag looked at Cortez for direction. She gave him a nod and he waddled to catch up with Igon, already merrily making his way down the path between the junk piles towards the aft engine block.

  “We’re gonna trust him now?” Loy asked, watching the robot and Halgorian disappear behind a junk pile. “Just like that?”

  “He’s programmed male,” Cortez said, “and I just dangled the prospect, however extremely remote, of sex at him. Yeah, we can trust him.”

  “Are you for real?”

  Cortez looked at her robomechanical arm, down at her own boobs, and around at her own ass. “About eighty percent. Give or take. –Well, let’s go see how bad we’re screwed. Come on.”

  Cortez sauntered off into the junk field. Loy stood there staring after her a moment before shrugging, and following.

  As their footsteps faded, Igon-2’s three eyes lit up, one at a time. Lying on his back, he lifted his head and looked around, confirming he was alone. He sat up and poked a finger around the edges of the still smoking hole in his torso. “Oh, that was just downright rude,” he said quietly to himself. “Someone’s going to have to pay for that…”

  TEN

  With a bright green flash, Patrol Rocketship 8724 exited superluminal space and entered the Otulak system, dead in the middle of a busy trade lane crossroads crowded by ships of all sizes and type – yet all bristling with weaponry.

  Rikki gaped at the video of ships whizzing past in all directions in the bridge’s main CRT. “Umm, that’s a lot of pirates.”

  “Not just pirates,” 8724 noted. “Otulak is a major staging and recreation hub for all types of criminal professions.”

  “Great.” Rikki turned away from the CRT. “Brilliant idea coming here, Archie.”

  “No argument from me.” Chewing on his thumbnail, Hackenthrush stared at the CRT from his commander’s chair. “8724, thrust us out of this… traffic jam... slowly.”

  “Love to, but my rockets are offline, remember? I only have maneuvering retros, and those won’t move me more than a dozen kilometers an hour. However, no one seems to have noticed I’m a police ship yet.”

  Hackenthrush hugged his knees tight up against his chest. “Despite the honking big ‘POLICE’ stamped on your side.”

  “I’ve dimmed my running lights.”

  Hackenthrush rocked back and forth in his chair. “Well, that’s something. Don’t suppo
se we can superluminal out before they do take notice?”

  “Yeah, and come back with a fleet of police battleships,” Rikki suggested.

  “Batteries need to charge,” 8724 said. “Check back in an hour.”

  “Why don’t we just call for backup?” Rikki asked. “That’s something you cops do, right?”

  “We’re operating outside of DUPES jurisdiction,” 8724 said. “For that matter, we’re outside of the Galactic Authority completely. It’s questionable whether anyone would send backup – even if the radio signal could reach them.”

  “Radio’s not working now?” Rikki asked.

  “Radio’s working fine. The Otulak system does not appear be part of the Galactic Authority superluminal communication relay network, unsurprisingly. We can transmit, but any call would take years to reach anyone.”

  Hackenthrush shook his head. “We’re not calling, anyway. Remember, we’re here covertly. Got a career to protect.”

  Rikki gestured at the traffic on the CRT. “Tell them that.”

  “Maybe they won’t notice us,” Hackenthrush said with a less-than-optimistic smile.

  Rikki huffed and leaned back against the Boarding Actions station console, his butt pushing switches and rotating dials. Triggering every external light 8724 had, including her emergency flashers.

  Hackenthrush glared at Rikki. “Idiot…”

  “What?” Rikki asked, his furry brow furrowing.

  Hackenthrush sprung out of his chair and pushed Rikki off the console. He randomly whacked at switches and dials. “How do I turn those damn things off?”

  “I don’t even know how I turned them on,” Rikki said.

  Hackenthrush slapped a final button and 8724’s external lights blinked off. He looked up at the CRT. “You think they noticed?”

  On the CRT, the swarm of ship traffic slowed to a stop around them.

  Hackenthrush’s face sagged. “Okay, so they noticed.”

  “They’re charging weapons, en masse,” 8724 said. “Quite a number of them are demanding to know what we’re doing here. Either that or giving us ten seconds to ‘Say your prayers, pigs.’”

  Rikki hurriedly shirked out of his DUPES uniform jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt.

  Hackenthrush stared at Rikki. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m not a cop.” Rikki tossed his shirt aside and undid his belt. His pants dropped to his ankles. “If I make that obvious, they may let me live.”

  “I hereby resign my commission,” Hackenthrush said, starting to unbutton his own uniform jacket.

  “Not that that isn’t the best news I’ve heard in a long time, but is this some sort of stress reaction?” 8724 asked as Hackenthrush discarded his jacket and tore his shirt off. “Do I need to flood the cabin with sedatives?”

  Hackenthrush stepped out of his pants and plopped down in the commander’s chair. “Open a line.”

  “Good idea,” 8724 said. “Surrender. In your underwear. Show them you’re not only idiots, you’re harmless.”

  “Just play along,” Hackenthrush said, adjusting his toupee. “Broadcast. All channels. Video.”

  8724 sighed. “Broadcasting.”

  “Howdy, fellow criminal ne’er-do-wells,” Hackenthrush said, smiling at the CRT. “Anyone interested in a slightly used, and I assure you, absolutely stolen patrol rocketship?”

  Fifteen minutes later, Patrol Rocketship 8724 was docked snugged up against the belly of a Rolm pirate ship, both ships hanging above the busy crossroads intersection where traffic had resumed its normal course.

  “So, what do you think of the ship so far, Mr. P’lau,” Hackenthrush asked, gesturing for the Rolm pirate to follow him around the bend in the corridor.

  “She’s a very old ship,” P’lau said as he undulated along the deck, making notes on a datascreen with a claw. His bulky, lizard-skinned body appeared even bulkier thanks to the thick fur coat he wore. “Rocketships don’t tend to retain their value.”

  “Sure, but this one’s relatively low-mileage for a ship her age,” Hackenthrush noted.

  “She’s had regular maintenance all along,” Rikki said, walking far enough behind the pirate to stay clear of the Rolm’s swishing spiked tail. “Barely any wear-and-tear, either.”

  “I’m not a piece of meat,” 8724 said.

  P’lau glanced up at the ceiling. “That attitude’s going to be a problem. People don’t like Ship’s Brains with attitude.”

  “Don’t worry,” Hackenthrush said to the pirate, “you can turn the voice off.”

  “That’s not all we can turn off,” 8724 said. “Like air–”

  “Voice off,” Hackenthrush said, and 8724’s voice cut out. Hackenthrush smiled at the snout-nosed Rolm. “So, what you say? Make us an offer. Lowball us. We’re desperate.”

  “Well... I suppose I could buy her for parts,” P’lau said. “But only if the price were–”

  And that’s when Rikki brought the butt of the autorifle down on the back of the pirate’s neck. P’lau made a gurgling noise and slumped down to the corridor floor, unconscious and breathing heavily.

  “What you do that for?” Hackenthrush asked. “He was just about to make an offer.”

  “We’re not really trying to sell the ship,” Rikki reminded him, lowering the autorifle.

  “Oh, right.”

  “But does beg the question… what are we trying to do?” Rikki asked.

  Hackenthrush shrugged. “Hadn’t thought that far ahead… 8724, you have any ideas?”

  “Oh, I can speak now?”

  Hackenthrush growled. “If you have something to contribute.”

  “Just one item of note… He wasn’t alone.”

  “Hold it there!” a bellowing voice behind them shouted.

  Hackenthrush and Rikki slowly turned to see a pair of Rolm pirates undulating up the corridor towards them, fangs bared and their very large plasma beam rifles pointed at them.

  Rikki’s hands and tail shot up into the air instantly. “I’m not a cop!” he announced.

  Hackenthrush snarled at Rikki out of the side of his mouth and raised his own arms in surrender.

  “You know, I had a sneaking suspicion you two were cops the moment I saw you,” the Rolm pirate P’lau said as he undulated into 8724’s mess. “I should have trusted my instincts and stayed clear.”

  Bound tight into a chair by sheets of memory rubber wrapped around him like a straightjacket, Hackenthrush grinned almost confidently at the Rolm. “You didn’t know. You didn’t have a clue.”

  “You’re wearing boxers with little police badges on them,” P’lau noted.

  Sheeted into his own chair next to Hackenthrush, Rikki smirked. “Now who’s the dummy for wearing their underwear inside out?”

  P’lau let out a guttural, phlegm-thick sigh. “What am I going to do with you two?”

  “Is there any way out of this that won’t involve my death or disfigurement?” Hackenthrush asked with a hopeful smile.

  “Not that I can see.”

  Hackenthrush’s shoulders sagged. “Just checking.”

  “How about me?” Rikki asked. “I’m only along for the ride.”

  “I should kill you both.”

  “Well that’s hardly fair,” Hackenthrush said. He jogged his head at Rikki. “He’s the one who hit you.”

  P’lau gave the slightest bob of his head. One of the pair of Rolms standing behind them stepped forward to whack Hackenthrush on the top of his head with the barrel of his autorifle.

  The toupee did nothing to soften the blow. Hackenthrush let out a yelp. “Hey, watch it! You’re striking an officer of the law, there, buddy.”

  “Which is why I won’t be killing you,” P’lau said. “Much as I want to, I have a better idea. A more profitable idea.”

  “Look,” Hackenthrush said, struggling against the sheets of memory rubber. The more he did, the tighter they got. “If you’re thinking of pimping us out, you should know I picked up this little bug in junior high.
Nothing major, it just makes a high pitched whistle now. It’s a little loud, but you get used to it–”

  P’lau gave another little head bob, and again the Rolm behind Hackenthrush brought his autorifle barrel down on his head with a sharp crack.

  Hackenthrush whipped his head around to glare at the Rolm. “Seriously, please stop doing that.”

  P’lau let out a grumbling snort of laughter. “Pimp you? No – I’m selling you.”

  Rikki’s ears pricked up. “Selling us?”

  P’lau nodded his big head. Hackenthrush reflexively ducked, but no blow came. “You and this ship,” P’lau said.

  “Hate to point this out,” Hackenthrush said, “but slavery is technically illegal...”

  “You think I care about your laws?” P’lau asked. “But no, not as slaves. The warlord Klakraw just so happens to be in this system at the moment, and he has a standing order for cops.”

  Hackenthrush smiled weakly. “To hold for ransom, he asks optimistically?”

  “He doesn’t like cops any more than I do, but what he does like is to entertain himself. With knives and hot pokers and the tortured screams of cops. He’ll pay big for you two. I’ll throw the ship in for free. I’m sure he’ll find something to do with it.”

  “But I’m not a cop!” Rikki protested.

  P’lau smiled at him. “Then Klakraw won’t want you and I’ll just have to slit your throat right here and now.”

  “You’re under arrest!” Rikki barked at the Rolm. He glanced at Hackenthrush. “That’s how it goes, right?”

  ELEVEN

  “Well?” Igon asked, standing at the base of Exalted Refuse’s massive superluminal engine block. “Can you fix it?”

  “No,” Feh said, popping his bulbous head out of a rough-edged access hole in the side of the block. He rubbed his hands on an oiled rag. “It’s pretty well slagged inside. Gonna need to replace the whole thing.”

  “Nice work there, robot,” Cortez said as she and Junior Officer Loy stepped up to the engine block.

  “Don’t look at me,” Igon said. “It was the other me.”