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

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Out of the Soylent Planet (A Rex Nihilo Adventure) (Starship Grifters Book 0) Page 17

by Robert Kroese


  “Oh,” said Rex. “Um, thanks.” He took the packets and tossed them on the floor.

  “Sorry about you guys getting executed tomorrow,” the man said. I realized it was the guard whose head I’d convinced Bill not to crush. “I hear it’s not so bad if you don’t run from them. Just let them crush your skulls and get it over with.”

  “Okay,” said Rex. “Appreciate the advice. I think that’ll do for now.”

  The little door slid shut and I heard the guard walking away.

  “Ugh,” Rex said. “My last meal, and all I’ve got is SLOP.”

  “You also have Stubby Joe’s fruit,” I reminded him.

  “Oh, yeah,” Rex said, producing the two pieces of shriveled fruit Stubby Joe had given him. A night in Rex’s pockets hadn’t improved them. Rex grimaced. “Gross. Even SLOP looks more appetizing.” He picked up one of the SLOP packets and stared at it for some time, as if willing himself to eat it.

  “Remember,” I said, “SLOP has those mind-altering additives in it.”

  Rex shrugged. “I don’t really see what difference it makes at this point.”

  “It’s the principle of the thing,” I suggested. “Anyway, how much worse could Stubby Joe’s fruit taste?”

  Rex thought this over. “You make a solid point, Sasha. All right, let’s do this.” He took a bite of the withered fruit. He chewed thoughtfully for several seconds and his eyes lit up. “Holy Space, Sasha! You have to try this!”

  “I don’t eat, sir.”

  “Oh man, you don’t know what you’re missing!” Rex cried, jumping to his feet. “Stubby Joe is delicious!” He took another bite. Greenish-brown juice dripped down his chin. It was disgusting.

  “Is this a ploy, sir?”

  “I’m dead serious, Sandy. This may be the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Wow! And to think, Stubby Joe died thinking his fruit was bitter and worthless. The irony. The wonderful, delicious irony. Mmmmm.”

  “We don’t know Stubby Joe is dead, sir.”

  “Be quiet and allow me to enjoy my irony.”

  “Perhaps you should not have dismissed Stubby Joe so quickly,” I said.

  “I hardly think it’s my fault,” Rex said. “The fruit looks terrible. And the way he fawned over me, it was unseemly. If he’d have worked on his presentation a little, people would be lining up for… Sasha, I have an idea!”

  I groaned. I didn’t want to hear any more of Rex’s ideas. All they ever did was raise false hopes and ultimately make things worse. Fortunately, Rex didn’t seem particularly interested in filling me in. He started banging on the door and yelling for the guard. I turned away and shut off my aural receptors. We weren’t getting out of this. The only thing to do was to wait for morning.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  A few hours later, a pair of guards dragged us from our cell. Rex was sleepy but in oddly good spirits, presumably still gripped by the delusion that we were somehow going to get out of this. We were escorted across an open courtyard to the stadium. Bill, still bearing the chest plate of MASHER-8080, stood just outside, deactivated, as if as a warning to the others. We could already hear the crowd inside the stadium. We were prodded through a hallway which emerged into the stadium, which was packed to capacity with people. I couldn’t help but notice the ten-meter-tall fence that enclosed the arena, separating us from the spectators. Every so often there were warning signs that read:

  CAUTION!

  ELECTRIFIED FENCE

  50,000 VOLTS

  Whoever had built this stadium wanted to make sure the people in the arena couldn’t escape into the stands.

  The crowd cheered as we walked out onto the field. Rex grinned and waved.

  “Sir,” I said, “you realize these people are here to witness our execution.”

  “Then they’re in for a surprise,” Rex replied.

  “You seriously believe we’re still getting out of this?”

  “I know we are,” said Rex. “I’ve got a foolproof plan. You’ll see.”

  We were prodded into a small steel cage on one side of the arena. I sighed, just wanting to get it over with. Unfortunately, there seemed to be several things on the agenda before our execution. We watched on a huge screen suspended over the stadium as Andronicus Hamm walked to a podium. In a box high up in the stands I could just barely make out the real Andronicus Hamm. He leaned into a microphone and said, “Hello, everyone, and welcome to the first ever Ubiqorp Agricultural Expo! We have a great show for you today, including a demonstration of the new Wrangler-Bot 5000 and the brutal but well-deserved execution of a couple of good-for-nothing troublemakers at the hands of Ubiqorp’s army of giant killer robots.”

  Whoops and cheers went up from the crowd. It occurred to me that as soon as the show was over, Hamm was going to set the MASHERs loose on the crowd. In fact, that was probably the reason for the big show. Get every civilian in the area into the stadium, where they’d be easy targets. Once they had wiped out everybody in the stadium not wearing an Ubiqorp uniform, the MASHERs would move on to the surrounding cities.

  “But before we start,” Hamm went on, “I want to introduce our guest of honor, the Malarchian Primate’s chief enforcer himself, none other than Heinous Vlaak!”

  The camera panned to Vlaak, sitting behind and to the left of the podium. Vlaak was a large man who cut a striking figure in his tight-fitting crimson leather uniform, a helmet festooned with peacock feathers and a luxurious cape that was said to be made from the pelts of a race of furry humanoids who had made the mistake of assisting the rebels in the Battle of Zondervan. On either side of him sat lazegun-toting marines. Vlaak waved and nodded toward the camera.

  “Today, Ubiqorp and the Malarchy are signing a historic agreement for Ubiqorp to supply rations to all 80,000 Malarchian marines. That’s right, very soon every Malarchian marine is going to be eating SLOP, produced right here on Jorfu!”

  Polite applause and noncommittal murmurs from the crowd.

  “And to celebrate this new venture, I’m giving Heinous Vlaak the opportunity to taste the very first packet of SLOP specifically produced for the Malarchy.” Hamm held up a packet that bore the crimson and gold of the Malarchy. The camera panned again to Vlaak, who waved and shook his head slightly. Next to me, Rex shifted uneasily on his feet.

  Hamm glanced at the camera and chuckled nervously. “Come on, Lord Vlaak,” Hamm said. “I know you don’t want to pass up this chance to sample the delicious, nutritious SLOP that soon all your underlings will be slurping up!”

  Vlaak shook his head more aggressively.

  “Come on, Vlaak, you big baby,” Rex muttered. “Eat the SLOP!”

  “Haha,” Hamm said. “He’s just kidding around, folks. Lord Vlaak, you’re going to give your marines the impression that you don’t like SLOP!”

  Nervous chuckles and murmurs from the crowd.

  Vlaak’s shoulders slumped in resignation. He made a “let’s get this over with” gesture, and a uniformed Ubiqorp employee approached him, holding a tray on which rested a single SLOP packet. Vlaak picked up the packet and, after a moment of fussing with the packet, stuck the straw through the vent in his helmet. I half-expected SLOP to come shooting out of his helmet when Vlaak realized how awful the stuff was, but he sucked at the straw for some time. The rapidly shrinking packet in his hands indicated he wasn’t faking. There were confused murmurs and some clapping from the crowd.

  “What in Space?” I asked. “Vlaak likes the stuff?”

  Rex grinned at me.

  I gaped at him. “You did this? But… how? And why?”

  When the camera panned back to Andronicus Hamm, we saw that Hamm was just as surprised as we were. The camera panned back to Vlaak, who tossed the packet aside and motioned for more. A moment of confusion followed, as Vlaak asking for seconds was clearly an unplanned-for contingency. While several Ubiqorp employees engaged in a heated discussion, Andronicus Hamm picked up the packet Vlaak had discarded, squeezed a bit of SLOP onto his finger, and t
asted it. His eyes went wide. Meanwhile, somebody had managed to produce another packet and handed it to Vlaak. Unlike the special Malarchian-branded packet Vlaak had sampled earlier, this one bore the standard Ubiqorp colors. Vlaak stuck the straw through his helmet, but Hamm bounded over and slapped the packet out of his hands. Vlaak and his marines jumped out of their seats. They drew their weapons and squared off with the Ubiqorp guards, and for a moment it looked like war was going to break out in the stands. But then Hamm put up his hands and said something that wasn’t caught by the mic. The men reluctantly holstered their guns. Heated discussion and finger-pointing followed. Someone pointed at a security guard, whom I recognized as the guard who had served Rex his dinner the previous night. The guard said something, and suddenly everyone turned and looked directly at Rex. Rex grinned at me again.

  Hamm went back to the microphone. “Ha ha, all part of the show, folks. As you can see, Heinous Vlaak, the official representative of the Malarchian Primate, just loves SLOP! Our little drama was intended to show what a world would be like where people can’t get all the SLOP they need. Sadly, that’s still the reality in much of the galaxy. Fortunately, there’s no shortage of SLOP here on Jorfu!” The camera panned to Heinous Vlaak, who sat with his helmet tipped forward and his arms folded against his chest. “Heh, heh,” Hamm continued nervously. “Anyway, while we make sure Heinous Vlaak has all the SLOP his heart desires, please enjoy this demonstration of the new Wrangler-Bot 5000!”

  Cheers and applause from the crowd.

  While a small group of shamblers was herded into the stadium, Andronicus Hamm left his box. While the crowd oohed and ahhed at the Wrangler-Bot, a guard opened the door to our cage. “This way,” the guard barked. “Andronicus Hamm wants to talk to you.”

  “Really?” Rex asked. “What a pleasant surprise. Come on, Sasha, let’s see what Mr. Hamm wants.”

  We were led out of the arena through a corridor to a small windowless room. Moments later, Andronicus Hamm joined us.

  “All right, you shifty bastard,” Hamm said. “How’d you do it?”

  “I don’t have a clue what you mean,” Rex replied.

  “That SLOP packet we gave to Vlaak. That guard said he got it from you.”

  “Is that what he said? He’s exaggerating a bit. I did suggest an alteration to the standard SLOP formula. Seems like it was a hit.”

  “There was nothing wrong with the formula!” Hamm growled. “Now Vlaak is expecting it all to taste like that stuff. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused me?”

  “Not really, but I’m going to take a wild guess and say a lot?”

  “Just tell me where you got that fruit. It is the fruit, isn’t it? Somehow you developed a strain of soylent that actually tastes good.”

  “You know, I’d love to tell you the secret,” Rex said, “but first I’m going to need a guarantee of safe passage off Jorfu for me and my robot assistant. Oh, and a hundred million credits.”

  “A hundred million credits!” Hamm cried. “You’ve got to be joking. If I just put that money into R&D, in a matter of weeks they can—”

  “If your corporate drones knew how to make that crap not taste like ass, they’d have done it by now. Face it, Hamm, I’ve outsmarted you. Just take your loss like a man and move on. How would your shareholders feel if you threw away a chance to make a huge improvement to your core product just to indulge a grudge against some small-time grifter?”

  Hamm fumed, clenching his fists at his sides. There was a knock at the door. “What is it?” Hamm snapped. The door opened a crack and a guard murmured something to Hamm. Hamm glanced back at Rex. “We’re not done here,” he said, and exited the room, slamming the door behind him.

  “You see, Sasha?” Rex said. “I told you I’d get us out of here.”

  “I have to admit, sir, your plan is ingenious.”

  “Some of the credit is yours,” Rex said. “If you hadn’t talked Bill out of crushing that kid’s skull, he probably wouldn’t have agreed to squeeze Stubby Joe’s fruit into Vlaak’s SLOP packet.”

  “It’s true that people with crushed skulls tend to be less helpful as a rule,” I said. “Speaking of which, you know that Ubiqorp is still going to eradicate the civilian population of this planet, right?”

  Rex shrugged. “Nothing for it,” he said. “My escape plan only covers the two of us.”

  I nodded. I supposed I should be happy the plan didn’t extend only to Rex.

  The door opened and Andronicus Hamm walked back in. He was smiling. “You’ll be happy to know there have been some developments on the R&D front,” he said.

  Rex’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about, Hamm?”

  Hamm opened the door. “Send him in,” he said.

  A huge green plant-like creature shuffled into the room, its eyes downcast.

  “Stubby Joe!” I cried. Rex’s mouth fell open.

  “One of the MASHERs found him wandering around the outside of the energy field yesterday,” Hamm said. “When I realized that Rex had gotten a job in QA under the name ‘Willie Everpay’ and then escaped the plantation when the barrier went down, I had Stubby Joe brought here for questioning. It never would have occurred to me to taste his fruit if you hadn’t given me the idea.”

  “I’m sorry,” Stubby Joe said. “I turned myself in. I tried to make it in the outside world, but there’s no place for me out there. I thought maybe Ubiqorp would give me my job back.”

  “Oh, we can do much better than that, Stubby Joe,” Hamm said, yanking a fruit from the shambler. Stubby Joe gave an involuntary quiver and Hamm took a bite out of the fruit. “Space me, that’s good stuff! Stubby Joe, you’re going to be the key to Ubiqorp’s expansion across the galaxy!”

  “I am?” Stubby Joe asked.

  “Nobody would know it to look at you, Stubby Joe,” Hamm said, “but you’re delicious!”

  “I… am?” Stubby Joe said again. I don’t know if shamblers can cry, but he sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

  Hamm nodded. “With SLOP made from your fruit, we’ll be able to expand across the galaxy, without even threatening to kill anyone!”

  Stubby Joe gave a tentative smile.

  “I found him first!” Rex said. “Stubby Joe is mine! Tell ‘em, Stubby Joe!”

  Stubby Joe hesitated. “You… you said you didn’t want me.”

  “I made a mistake!” Rex cried. “I’ve seen the error of my ways, Stubby Joe. You and I were meant to be together!”

  “So… you really love me?”

  “What?” Rex asked, flustered. “I mean, you know, I underestimated you, that’s for sure. And you can’t really blame me. Look at you. You’re like a botanist’s nightmare.”

  “Sir,” I said, “I don’t think this is helping.”

  “But the point is,” Rex went on hurriedly, “that’s all superficial. What matters is what’s on the inside. And what’s inside your fruit is some of the juiciest, sweetest fruit this side of the legendary quadrupedal aubergine farms of Elgin-16. And not only that, Stubby Joe. You have a sweet soul.”

  “Then you do love me!”

  “Love you?” Rex said. “I can’t imagine an existence without you!” This much, at least, was undoubtedly true. Stubby Joe beamed at him.

  “If you’re finished debasing yourself, Rex,” Hamm said, “allow me to point out that your feelings for this vegetable are irrelevant. I own Stubby Joe and his fruit. We’ve already cleared a field for his seeds. Tomorrow we begin growing the next generation of soylent plants.”

  “Yeah? Well, good luck with that,” Rex said. “He’s seedless.”

  Hamm frowned. “No matter,” he said. “Then we’ll just chop him into pieces and plant the cuttings. A little root-development hormone and we’ll have a thousand more Stubby Joes. But first, Stubby Joe is going to have a front-row seat to your execution!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “I don’t suppose this is part of the plan as well?” I asked hopefully, on
ce we were back in our cage.

  “Sadly,” Rex replied, “we’re in uncharted territory here. Never occurred to me that Stubby Joe would turn himself in. That delicious little freak is full of surprises.”

  The arena had been cleared of shamblers, and the 399 MASHERs had taken the field. They had spent the last several minutes marching in formation and performing other uninteresting tasks. The crowd was growing restless, and Heinous Vlaak had apparently gotten bored and left with his entourage. Across the arena, a few rows behind Andronicus Hamm, stood the distinctive figure of Stubby Joe. A uniformed guard stood on either side of him.

  I turned to Rex. “Is it just me, or is the MASHER part of this show a bit anticlimactic after the Wrangler-Bot 5000?”

  Rex shrugged. “MASHERs are basically workhorses. They’re capable of some fancy maneuvers, but if they over-exert themselves they’ll overheat and their core processors will melt down. That doesn’t make for a great show, so we get to watch them march around the field and salute the Ubiqorp flag. Should get more interesting in a minute though.”

  “Why, what’s happening in… oh.”

  Andronicus Hamm had stepped up to the microphone again. “Let’s hear a round of applause for the Ubiqorp Synchronized MASHER Team!”

  Polite applause arose from the crowd. The MASHERs, which had assembled themselves into twenty rows, stood silently at attention, facing me and Rex.

  “And now, our feature presentation, the execution of two no-good offworld food smugglers!”

  A guard opened our cage and gestured for us to exit. We walked out into the arena to cheers and whistles. The cage was wheeled away from the arena. Rex grinned and waved at the crowd.

  “What are you doing, sir?” I asked.

  “Going out with style,” Rex replied.

  I sighed. Part of me had hoped Rex had one more card up his proverbial sleeve. But this was it. We really were going to die.

 

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