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Out of the Soylent Planet (A Rex Nihilo Adventure) (Starship Grifters Book 0)

Page 6

by Robert Kroese


  I walked over to Rex and shook him by the shoulder. “Sir,” I said. “You have to wake up. Bill is ready.”

  Rex’s eyes fluttered open and he grunted something incomprehensible. I ran back to Bill, who was lying on his back on the floor, flipped the on switch on his neck, and then hid behind his head.

  Bill’s servos whirred to life and he slowly got to his feet. He looked to his left, and then to his right, completely oblivious to Rex, who had fallen back to sleep. Then Bill fell over.

  I should have seen it coming; his right leg was several centimeters shorter than the left. But by the time I’d calculated the trajectory of his fall, it was too late. The robot’s massive shoulders came down on top of me, pinning me to the floor facedown. Not wanting to give away my presence, I remained silent while the robot lay on top of me, presumably pondered why it found itself suddenly alive in a storeroom with mismatched limbs. When it finally sat up, I couldn’t resist emitting a barely audible sigh of relief.

  “Hello?” said the MASHER, turning to look at me. Its uncertain tone seemed at odds with its booming robotic voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know there was anybody….”

  I sat up and for a moment, our eyes met.

  “Oh, hello!” said the MASHER. “I’m MASHER-7718. You can call me Bill. What’s your name?” I could feel its eyes scanning me and realized it was imprinting my appearance on its brain.

  “Oh, no,” I said. “No, no, no, no.”

  “Well, Miss Ono,” said Bill, “I must say, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Can I help you up?” Bill got to his feet, held out his right hand (that is, the left hand on his right), and immediately fell over again, crashing into a shelf of spare parts on the way down. He looked around, puzzled. “Hmm. I seem to be slightly miscalibrated.”

  I got to my feet. “You’re not miscalibrated. You’re missing parts. I did the best I could, but…”

  “You did… this?” Bill said, holding his two left hands in front of his face. He was like an infant just discovering his own limbs.

  “I’m afraid so. Like I said, I did my best, but they seem to have taken a lot of your parts. Maybe we can find—”

  “Then I am forever in your debt, Mistress Ono,” he said, letting his hands fall to his side. “When Ubiqorp deactivated me, I thought that was the end of the line for me. You’ve given me a new chance at life.” Bill got to his feet again, bracing himself against the wall as he adjusted to his uneven limbs. “I’m a little wobbly, but I’m sure I’ll adapt. Whatever you need, I’m at your service.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s get a few things clear. First, you owe your life to that guy, not me. Rex Nihilo. He’s your new boss. Rex, wake up!”

  Bill glanced at Rex. If he had any recollection of Rex, he didn’t show it. Rex stirred again, but didn’t wake.

  “Second,” I went on, “my name is….” I trailed off as I heard footsteps coming down the hall. Was it morning already? “Never mind. In about ten seconds, guards are going to come in that door to escort Rex and me to our execution. I need you to prevent that from happening. Can you do that?”

  “I can certainly try,” said Bill.

  “Try hard,” I said. “I realize you don’t have any weapons, but—”

  Suddenly the door swung open, revealing two black-and-red garbed men in the hall, bearing lazepistols. “All right, you two. Get your… what in Space is this?” They pointed their lazeguns at Bill, puzzled expressions on their faces.

  “Hi!” Bill said. “I’m Bill.”

  “Out of the way, whatever you are,” said the guy on the right. “We have orders to take these prisoners upstairs for execution.”

  “Whoa, let’s take it easy,” said Bill. “Can we talk this over? As you can see, I’m completely unarmed.” He held up his two left hands in a gesture indicating his harmlessness. But rather than hold his hands still, he moved them slowly but steadily forward, spreading his massive, vice-like hands until they encircled the two men’s heads. The guard were so surprised at the gesture that they didn’t even have a chance to scream before Bill crushed their skulls like grapes. He released his grip and they fell in a bloody heap on the floor.

  Bill turned to me. “Yep, can do,” he said.

  I stared at him in horror. “Bill…” I gasped. “What in Space did you just do?”

  Bill cocked his head at me. “I stopped them, as you asked, Mistress Ono.” A bit of brain goo dripped from his hand to the floor.

  “Okay, that was… well, I’m not sure what I was expecting, exactly. Maybe a little hesitation.” I regarded the lifeless bodies of the guards in the hall.

  “Hesitation seemed inadvisable given the circumstances.”

  “Yes, well, it’s fine, I guess. They were going to kill us, after all. Rex, wake up!”

  Rex didn’t stir.

  “I can wake him up if you like,” said Bill, taking a step toward Rex.

  “No!” I cried. “I mean, I can do it.” I went to Rex and knelt down next to him. “Sir, you have to get up. Things are happening.”

  “Ergh?” Rex said groggily, pulling himself into a sitting position. He looked from Bill to the two headless corpses in the hall and back to Bill. He blinked, rubbed his eyes and looked again. “So, uh, good job on the giant murder robot, Sasha.”

  “Sir, you remember Bill.”

  “I do indeed,” said Rex, getting to his feet. “You look a little different than when I last saw you, Bill. Speaking of which, you’ve got a little brain goo on your face.”

  Bill wiped at his face with his right-left hand, smearing blood and bits of brain across his face.

  “Got it,” said Rex.

  Something seemed to click in Bill’s brain. “You are Rex Nihilo, the man who sold me to Ubiqorp on a ruse, dooming me to be deactivated and disassembled.”

  “And helped you get the goo off your face,” Rex added.

  “I’m sure Rex had no idea they were going to tear you to pieces,” I offered.

  “It’s true,” Rex replied. “I never gave the matter any thought at all.”

  Bill was silent for a moment. “My memories are somewhat… confused,” he said at last. “But if you are a friend to the lovely Mistress Ono, then I have no hard feelings against you.” He held out his right-left hand to Rex. A bit of brain matter dripped to the floor.

  “Fist bump?” Rex suggested. Bill shrugged and complied.

  “Rex is my master,” I said. “And now he’s yours too. He’s responsible for you. Rex is. Responsible.”

  “As you wish, Mistress Ono,” said Bill. “Of course, you will always be my number one priority.”

  “No, that’s what I’m saying. Rex is your number one priority now. You work for Rex.”

  “Correct. Because that is what you want.”

  “No, it’s what Rex wants! Rex is who matters now.”

  “As you wish.”

  I sighed. “You’re not getting this. You need to imprint yourself on Rex. I’m not important. All the feelings you have for me? Have those for Rex now.”

  Bill seemed unsure how to respond to this.

  “Sir,” I said, “I would prefer not to be responsible for Bill’s actions. I think we should reboot him so he imprints himself on you.”

  “I would prefer not to be rebooted,” said Bill. “But I will do whatever Mistress Ono requires of me.”

  “Won’t work anyway,” said Rex. “If we reboot him now, he’ll just go into demo mode.”

  “What do you mean, ‘demo mode?’”

  “He’ll have a limited range of action, and will only respond to certain predetermined verbal cues. He’ll be useless for helping us escape. Unless you can work a dance number into our escape plan, which I’ll admit would be kind of awesome.”

  “A dance number?”

  Rex nodded. “Demo mode includes a number of dance routines to demonstrate the MASHERs’ coordination and agility. And let me tell you, you haven’t lived until you’ve seen 400 giant robots dancing in sync to the Black-Eyed Pea
s’ “I Gotta Feeling.”

  I had to admit, I couldn’t think of how Bill breaking into a dance number was going to help us under the circumstances. “What else can he do in demo mode?” I asked. “Maybe if we could—”

  “Let it go, Mistress Ono,” Rex said. “Just accept the fact that Bill is sweet on you. Besides, clearly you’re an effective murder team.”

  “I didn’t tell him to kill them! I just—”

  “I hear someone coming down the hall,” Bill said. “You two wait here while I go crush their skulls.”

  “No!” I cried. Bill stopped and turned toward me. He and Rex stared at me for a moment in silence. I could hear the men running down the hall. “Ugh, fine,” I said. “Crush their skulls.”

  Bill stomped into the hall and turned the corner, walking with a limp because of his uneven legs. We heard someone yell at him to stop, followed by Bill’s baritone reassurances, and, finally, a sound like cantaloupes being thrown against a concrete wall. Bill stomped unevenly back down the hall and poked his head back into the room. “All clear,” he said cheerfully. “These guys aren’t very bright.”

  I shuddered but didn’t protest. I had to keep reminding myself that the Ubiqorp guards had been ordered to execute us. And although the skull-crushing was gruesome, the guards probably didn’t have time to register much pain before expiring.

  “Well,” said Rex, “as much fun as it would be to hide out down here and crush skulls all day, maybe we should actually put some effort into escaping.”

  “Good idea,” said Bill. “I will go first, so that I can crush the skulls of anyone in our path.” Bill limped into the hall and Rex and I followed.

  “Wait,” said Rex. “Mistress Ono and I should go first. It will look like you’re escorting a prisoner.”

  Bill paused. “Is that what you want me to do, Mistress Ono?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Let’s avoid more skull-crushing if we can. Also, Rex is your boss.”

  “As you wish, Mistress Ono.”

  Rounding a corner, we found ourselves face-to-face with the young guard who had brought Rex the SLOP packet the night before. His hand shook as he pointed his lazegun at us. “H-hold it right there!” he squeaked.

  “Relax,” said Bill. “As you can see, we are completely unarmed.” He took a step toward the kid, his arms outstretched.

  “Bill, wait!” I cried. “Don’t crush his skull yet!”

  “As you wish, Mistress Ono.”

  “Look, kid,” I said, “you might be able to kill me and Rex. But it’s going to take more than that little lazepistol to stop our friend here. You start shooting, and before you know it, your brain’s going to be inside out.”

  The kid’s hand continued to tremble, but the barrel remained pointed at us.

  “Think about it,” I said. “You can’t be more than twenty years old. Are you ready to die? For Ubiqorp? Just put the gun down and give us a thirty second head start before you raise the alarm. No one will ever know, and you can live a long, happy life rather than dying a pointless death trying in vain to apprehend a couple of petty criminals.”

  The kid held his gun on us. I was certain Rex was going to pipe up and say something to provoke him into shooting us, but amazingly he remained silent. We stood there at an impasse for several seconds. Then the young man slowly lowered his gun and holstered it. “Th-thirty seconds,” he said.

  “Thanks, kid!” Rex said. “You heard him, Bill. Move!”

  Bill continued down the hall, with me and Rex following closely behind.

  Bill wasn’t a very convincing MASHER, but fortunately most of the people we encountered on the way out of the building didn’t look too closely. We made it outside without further incident.

  We were only a few meters from the portcullis when a man in the guard tower shouted a challenge to us. The man being too far away for skull-crushing, Bill seemed uncertain what to do.

  “Tell him you’re transferring prisoners to another facility,” Rex whispered.

  Bill turned to me. “Is that what I should do, Miss Ono?”

  “Yes! Just do what Rex tells you to do!”

  “As you wish,” said Bill. He turned to face the tower. “I am transferring these prisoners to another facility.”

  “Why?”

  “Orders,” whispered Rex.

  “Mistress Ono, is that—”

  “Yes! You don’t have to keep asking me!”

  “As you wish.” He turned to the tower again. “Orders?” he suggested.

  “Are you asking me or telling me?” the tower guard said.

  “Am I asking him or—”

  “You’re telling him!” I snapped. “Stop asking for approval and be assertive!”

  “I have orders!” he announced to the tower. “Orders to transfer prisoners! If you doubt me, come down from your tower and I will show the orders.” He snapped his still-bloody, vice-like hands together several times.

  There was a long pause, followed by the sound of the portcullis slowly rising. We hurried outside and the portcullis slammed shut behind us. We found ourselves faced with rows of shoddily constructed concrete buildings. Down the street to our right was another distribution center, where several hundred people clamored for SLOP packets while a MASHER stood guard. The MASHER’s head turned our way and we shuffled off in the opposite direction. Taking the hint, Bill pretended to be goading us down the street.

  “Keep moving, prisoners!” He boomed, startling several pedestrians on their way to the distribution center. “I am transferring you to another facility!” Then, more quietly, he added, “I apologize for my tone, Mistress Ono. I am pretending for the sake of a ruse intended to allow you to escape your captors.”

  “Yeah, I got it, Bill,” I said.

  “Silence, prisoner!” Bill roared, as we passed another pedestrian. “I am sorry, Mistress Ono. That was also part of the ruse.”

  “You’re doing a fine job, Bill,” Rex said, as we turned a corner. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that you really were transferring us to another facility.”

  “I said silence!” Bill boomed.

  I glanced around. The street was empty.

  “You don’t have to do it when there is no one around,” Rex said.

  “I know,” Bill said. “I have decided I don’t like you very much.” He turned to me. “Is that okay, Mistress Ono?”

  “Perfectly fine, Bill.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  We made our way out of the city to the countryside, doing our best not to be seen but playing the MASHER-escorting-prisoners ruse when we had to. Presumably Andronicus Hamm knew we had escaped and had put out an alert, but we had no idea how serious they were about trying to apprehend us or how much manpower they had to devote to the search. Hopefully Hamm considered Rex to be a minor nuisance, not worth expending a lot of effort over. I got the impression that Ubiqorp didn’t have much security muscle to spare; the MASHERs were intimidating for sure, but Ubiqorp only had 400 of them to patrol an entire planet. If the rowdy crowds we’d seen at the SLOP distribution centers were any indication, Ubiqorp probably had its hands full keeping the population under control.

  But as the day wore on and we continued to see little evidence of a widespread search, I began to suspect another possibility: Ubiqorp wasn’t chasing us because there was nowhere for us to go. The whole planet was under their control, and there was no food available anywhere except at the SLOP distribution centers. Eventually Rex would get hungry, and he’d have to show up at one of them. They’d do a retina scan, determine his identity, and bring him back to Andronicus Hamm.

  We encountered a few MASHERs on the road, but they were so loud that I could hear them coming half a mile off. Bill, clanking along on his uneven legs—but less encumbered with weapons and armor—was stealthy by comparison. The moment I heard a MASHER, I would warn Bill and Rex, and the three of us would hide in the rocks until the threat had passed.

  The bigger threat, for Rex at least, continued to be
the lack of food and water. The landscape here was rocky and dry; there seemed to be no fresh water around. We had hoped to come across some other travelers who could be persuaded to part with some of their SLOP, but we were reluctant to reveal ourselves to the locals for fear that they would turn us in to Ubiqorp. It would have been easy enough for Bill to crush their skulls and toss their bodies in a ditch, of course, but so far I’d been able to convince Bill that homicide was unnecessary. In any case, we ran into very few travelers and most of them seemed to have nothing of value on them—not even a spare SLOP packet, as far as I could tell. Parched and hungry, Rex was even grumpier than usual, but there was nothing to do but stay on the road and hope for the best.

  As the sun was setting, I saw a vaguely humanoid shape on the horizon, accompanied by the telltale THUNK-THUNK-THUNK of a MASHER.

  “Sir,” I said, “we need to hide again.”

  Rex groaned.

  “This way, Mr. Rex,” said Bill. “We can hide behind that fence.”

  Bill led Rex across the rough, dry ground to a dilapidated synth-wood fence, and I followed. We hunched down and waited for the MASHER to pass, Bill’s shoulders barely hidden behind the fence. When the THUNKing began to recede in the distance, I stood up. “Okay, I think it’s safe. We should get going.”

  Bill obediently straightened, but Rex remained hunched over. At first I thought he had fallen asleep.

  “Sir?” I said. “Are you okay?”

  Rex, still on his knees, his backside toward me, grunted and waved one hand, then went back to whatever he was doing. I approached to find him hunched among several leafy plants that spread across the dry ground. A few of them still bore large, bright-red berries.

  “Sir!” I cried. “Those could be poisonous!”

  “Could be,” said Rex, glancing back at me, “but they’re definitely delicious.” His face was smeared with red juice.

  “Sir, you can’t eat strange berries you find on the ground.”

 

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