Robot Blues

by Margaret Weis; Don Perrin

  “You weren’t, were you, though?” she said.

  “Weren’t what?” Xris asked.

  “Worried about getting caught.” Tess’s tone was serious, thoughtful. “Most colonel’s aides I’ve known would have been sweating their captain’s bars. But then, you’re different from most. You’re a bit too old to be a captain. And, this may sound odd, but do you know that if I’d just met the two of you—you and Jatanski—and you were both out of uniform, I would have guessed that you were his superior officer.”

  Damn, this woman was sharp! She was peeling off layers faster than Xris could glue them back down.

  “You nabbed me,” he said. “I used to be a general. Got busted to private for fraternizing with ... what’s your job classification?”

  “Special projects officer.”

  “For fraternizing with special projects officers. I’m working my way back up the ranks. I expect to be a general again in about a year. When that happens, I’ll come back here and propose to you and we’ll get married and have ten kids and you can teach them all how to shoot straight. We’ll name our firstborn Jatanski.”

  “You!” she said, shoving him away. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Is that a good thing?” Xris asked.

  “Look it up,” she retorted. “You must be thirsty after that long speech.” She slid across the seat, over to the controls. “Ready to go to town, Captain?”

  “Drive on, Captain. Where are we headed, by the way? The place your roommate said? I forget the name—”

  “Jake’s.” Tess nodded.

  The staff car whirred off, heading for the distant lights. The two inside were both silent, enjoying the ride, joying the sparks of electricity still lingering in the air, savoring what had passed, anticipating what was to come.

  What was to come. Yeah, Xris coldly reminded himself—you’ve got to steal that damn robot. You’re here on business, not pleasure.

  “What is Jake’s? A local bar?”

  “Yes, it’s on the edge of town.”

  “I thought the nasty off-worlders weren’t supposed to mingle with the home folk.”

  “We’re not supposed to, and we don’t, for the most part,” Tess said. “Jake’s is different. I guess you could say we have an arrangement. Strictly off the record, of course.”

  “Of course,” Xris said. “Which is why you often smuggle men off base in the trunk of the staff car. My guess is that you’re a serial killer. You prey on innocent male officers. Maybe that’s, what happened to Jatanski.”

  “I confess. I lured him off base, had my way with him, then bashed him over the head with a beer bottle. You’re next, you know.”

  “You may find the bottle-bashing difficult in my case. My head’s mostly steel. What do you do with the bodies?”

  “I have them stuffed,” Tess said, grinning. “You’ll look great in my museum. I’ll put you next to Jatanski.”

  “No, I want an entire wing to myself,” Xris stated. “ ‘Creative Things Done with Metal.’ “

  “You never let people forget, do you?” Tess glanced at him sidelong.

  “I can’t,” he said. “Why should anyone else?”

  He stared straight ahead, across the red Pandoran sand that shone with a faintly phosphorescent gleam. Beneath the cloud-dark sky, the softly glowing sand, dotted here and there with black clumps of plants, made for an eerie landscape. His fingers itched to take a twist from the case in his pocket. He tapped his hand moodily on the armrest.

  “You can hate me all you want, but don’t dare pity me. Is that it?” Tess said archly.

  “Something like that.” Xris settled back, faked a relaxed pose. “Look, if you dig any deeper, you’re going to strike oil. Tell me about this bar. What arrangement do you have? The only people who get busted are privates?”

  “You can’t brush me off that easily,” Tess said, shaking her head. Her blond hair fell over her shoulders. Her hands on the staff car’s steering controls were supple, capable. She filled out her uniform well—the latest fashion would have said too well, but her ample figure was toned, firmly muscled. Laughter and intelligence made her features attractive. “I can’t hate you and I refuse to pity you, so where does that leave me?”

  “I don’t know. Captain,” Xris said, smiling in spite of himself. “Where does that leave you?”

  “Liking you,” said Tess softly. “Liking you very much. Now,” she added, tossing her head, flipping the blond hair back, “what do you want to know about Jake’s? It calls itself a bar. I suppose most people would call it a dive. It’s run by a Pandoran who likes money more than he hates off-worlders. The beer’s cold and the whiskey’s okay and the place isn’t raided oftener than once a quarter. The restrooms are filthy—at least the women’s is, I wouldn’t know about the men’s. Every so often we girls get sick of it and go in and clean it up. Anyone who can get off base—legitimately or otherwise—goes to Jake’s. And that’s about it.”

  “Does the colonel know?”

  “Sure he does. Like I said, the bar gets raided three or four times a year. They shut the place down. The locals write editorials. Strebbins gives us a lecture. We go thirsty for about two weeks. Then Jake’s is back in business and life goes on.”

  “I’m surprised Strebbins puts up with it.”

  “You wouldn’t be, if you lived here,” Tess said, her tone serious. “Duty on Pandor is the pits, a real morale-buster. We’re confined to this base, never allowed off it, except when we’ve built up enough leave time to be able to fly to some more hospitable planet. I have leave coming up in a month. Got any suggestions?”

  She looked over at him. It was his cue to say that he had leave coming up in about a month, too, and that he knew a planet where the water was blue and so was the moon and they could admire them both together. It would be easy enough. He could drag Captain Kergonan out of the closet every few months, have himself a good time. Hell, he was due.

  Xris said nothing, stared out the window at the flaring lightning.

  You’re a fool, he told himself. This attractive, vibrant woman actually thinks you’re something special. She’s made it plain that she doesn’t mind hearing your insides whir and hum while you’re making love. Jamil’s got two wives on two different planets, for God’s sake. Tess’s a career soldier. She knows it’s not going to be anything serious. ...

  “I’ve got a wife,” Xris said.

  “Ah, well, that’s different,” Tess said quietly, with a half smile, a shrug.

  Xris nodded. He was watching the storm, watching the lightning flash and spread in sheets over the bottoms of the clouds. A few drops were starting to splatter on the windshield. He’d meant to use that as an excuse, a way to get them both off the hook. It hadn’t quite come out right.

  “It doesn’t have to be different,” he said. “But it is. We’ve been married a long time. Since before the ... accident. I should have died. I was left to die. Marjorie was the one who made the decision to turn me into half man, half can. She couldn’t let go. And then, when I came home ...”

  Xris stopped talking. He’d give his life for a smoke about now.

  “When you came home?” Tess prompted gently.

  Xris shrugged. “I should have expected it. She realized that she couldn’t live with a husband who had to have an oil change and a lube job every ten thousand kilometers.”

  “Xris, I’m sorry,” Tess said. They had reached Jake’s Bar, or so the glaring neon sign informed them. She parked the staff car in the shadow of an adjacent building, shut off the engine. She turned to face him. “You’d rather be hated than pitied. I guess I understand now.”

  “She gave me one look,” he said. “That’s all it was.

  But it was enough. I turned around and walked out and I’ve never been back. That was ten years ago or thereabouts.”

  “You haven’t seen your wife in ten years?” Tess was amazed.

  “I’ve seen her,” Xris said. His hand went to his pocket.

  �
�For God’s sake,” Tess said, laughing, “if you’ve got ‘em, smoke ‘em! You’re making me nervous, diving for your pocket like that all the time.”

  Xris hesitated, then reached into his pocket. He drew out the gold cigarette case, took out a twist, put it into his mouth. There was a lighter in the staff car (so much for regulations). He drew in the smoke gladly. “I’ve seen her,” he repeated.

  He had seen his wife just about a year ago. He’d rescued her from a Corasian meat locker—a terrible prison in which the aliens kept their victims until they were needed for food. Marjorie had looked at him a lot differently then. She’d been grateful. Very, very grateful. Gratitude was the reason why, on the trip back, she’d told him she still loved him. Told him that she had always loved him....

  Xris opened the window, tossed what remained of the smoldering twist out, closed the window again. He reached over, took hold of Tess, pulled her close. She hesitated just a moment, not to make it look good, but studying him intently. Then she slid into his arms and they got to know each other a little better.

  “Now I am thirsty,” she said, drawing away.

  “We better go in before the storm breaks,” he said in agreement.

  She tilted her face for one more kiss, then they climbed out of the car and walked—arm in arm—to the bar.

  As they drew closer to the bar, Xris reconnoitered. Jake’s was nothing special. A dilapidated, run-down building made of the Pandoran stone that must be used to build everything on this planet. It was large, two-story—the owner probably lived on top—and was located outside of town, probably not even in the city limits. Windows ran the length of the front and the sides, showing those outside what a good time everyone was having inside. He could see people dancing.

  As he stood in the road, the bar was on his left. Straight ahead was the construction site. He could probably follow the same road to reach it. He could see the green lights of the force field surrounding the downed spaceplane containing the robot easily from this distance, calculated that it was probably about two kilometers away.

  He would welcome the exercise, a nice jog. Too bad it was raining. He’d have to come up with some excuse to ditch Tess. It could be done, but it wouldn’t be pleasant. She’d be hurt and angry, figure he was a jerk, a cad.

  That’s what you want, isn’t it? he asked himself. Better to be hated ...

  “They’re planning a new shopping mall there. First they’re going to build a wall three meters high to separate us,” Tess informed him, noting his unusual interest in the construction site.

  “Yeah,” he said, “so I heard.”

  “That’s what they were going to do. But now it’s turned into—of all things—an archaeological dig. You see that green glow? They found an ancient spaceplane—”

  “Let’s go get that beer, shall we?” Xris said, rudely cutting her off. He started walking toward the bar. He was sorry—damn sorry—he’d gotten her involved.

  “Sure,” Tess replied, giving him a puzzled glance. She pulled her arm away from his and he didn’t make an effort to get it back.

  The rain spit and spattered, the storm was still some distance away. The thunder rumbled over the ground. They walked the rest of the way to the bar in silence. Xris opened the door, Tess walked past him into an entry way. Raincoats hung on pegs, umbrellas stood in a stand, hats lined a shelf. A newsvid machine—broken-stood in one corner, along with a bubble gum machine. It, too, appeared to be broken. Through the glass window in a second door, Xris could see the bar. It was packed with people, most of them in uniform, laughing, dancing, having a good time. He reached for the inner door. Tess blocked his way.

  “Look, Xris,” she said coolly, “don’t think you’re obligated to go through with this. We can just call it a night and drive back to the base, if that’s what you want.”

  No, that wouldn’t work at all. He still had to get that damned robot. And he didn’t want the evening to end, not yet.

  A couple, giggling and kissing, staggered out of the bar. The entryway was small, and the coats, the vid machine, and more people made it smaller. Xris and Tess were forced back against the wet coats on the wall to let the other couple pass. On his way by, the soldier stumbled into Tess. She fell against Xris.

  Xris caught hold of her, steadied her. Tess tried to pull away, but he didn’t let go. The other couple lurched out the door. It slammed shut behind them. Xris still didn’t let go.

  “You said you studied cyborgs,” he said to Tess.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “The psychology as well as the physiology?”

  “Some, not much,” she admitted. “Xris, if I said anything—”

  “No, you didn’t.” He drew in a deep breath. “You’ve been great. And that’s the problem. If you’ve studied cyborgs, you know that it’s difficult for people to relate to us in any sort of romantic way. When most women hear my arm start beeping, they don’t ask me if I’m suffering from a chemical imbalance. They usually just turn pale and walk off.”

  Tess was smiling at him. She pressed closer, took hold of his hand—his “bad” hand, his phony hand.

  “I’m going to leave base tomorrow,” Xris continued, “and maybe we’ll see each other again and maybe we won’t. Let’s not look past tonight. All right?”

  To his surprise, she didn’t badger or tease or argue. She was grave, thoughtful.

  “I understand,” she said.

  And Xris had the odd feeling that she really did.

  Chapter 13

  Thus it is said that one who knows the enemy and knows himself will not be endangered in a hundred engagements.

  Sun-tzu, The Art of War

  The Pandoran stout was as good as its reputation. Xris regretted he couldn’t enjoy it to its fullest, but he had work to do that night and needed a clear head. He sipped slowly at his, explained—when Tess asked him if he wanted another—that the delicate chemical balance of his body didn’t deal well with alcohol.

  Tess’s roommates spotted them, came over to take a good look at Xris, exchange a few bantering remarks with Tess, then left to return to the dance floor.

  Xris and Tess sat side by side in a high-backed wooden booth next to a window. They had to sit practically chin to chin to hear each other over the roar of the music, which was provided by a couple of soldiers on portable synthesizers. The soldiers had more enthusiasm than talent, but they knew enough to lay down a steady, thumping beat, which was all the dancers wanted. Xris and Tess shouted companionably at each other, enjoying the stout and the company.

  Xris’s earlier half-formed plan of ditching Tess to flirt with another woman—maybe one of her own roommates—was out. Tess would know it was an act, she wouldn’t believe it for an instant. And, Xris had to admit to himself, he just wasn’t the type. Women weren’t exactly doing nosedives over the bar to get close to him. He had about decided that the best policy was honesty— perhaps not complete honesty, but as honest as he could be. He would simply tell her to drive back to the base without him. He wanted to be alone, to do some thinking. Maybe he wanted to be alone to rehearse his speech. That was it. Rehearse his speech.

  “Want another?” Tess asked, indicating his empty glass.

  “No, but you go ahead. I’ll get it.”

  “That’s all right. I need to stand up for a while.”

  Tess joined the line at the crowded bar, waiting to place her order for another glass of stout. Xris glanced at his watch. 0100. The rain had quit, but, judging by the flashes of the lightning on the horizon, the storm had been the first in a long series. If he was going to make his move, he needed to make it soon. He stood up, started to go over to Tess, to feed her his line, when something large crashed into the door with a thud that was audible even over the raucous music.

  A soldier, seated at a table near the front windows, sprang to his feet.

  “Raid!” he bellowed.

  The Pandoran police smashed through the front door.

  People scattered every
conceivable direction. Xris looked at Tess. She turned to look at him. Flailing, pushing, and shoving bodies churned between them. Xris’s instinct was to fight his way to Tess’s side. His second thought was more rational. This is it, fool! This is your chance! Still, he might have ignored the rational, gone for the instinctual, if Tess hadn’t made the decision for him. She pointed urgently behind him, directing him to the windows.

  “What about you?” he mouthed.

  She jerked her thumb in the direction of the women’s restroom and, in the same motion, turned and ran that way. Xris hesitated one more instant, saw Tess’s two roommates making a dash for the lady’s room, as well.

  Xris lost sight of her then. A large Pandoran cop loomed in front of him, yelling something unintelligible and swinging a nightstick at Xris’s head. Xris caught the nightstick in his cybernetic hand, squeezed. The nightstick crumbled into small particles. The cop stared, open-mouthed, then backed away.

  Xris wasted no more time. He smashed into one table, leaped onto another, aimed a kick at the window with his steel leg. Glass exploded outward. Xris dove through, headlong. Two more soldiers were right behind him, and more were coming after them.

  Xris landed heavily on one shoulder, rolled across concrete, bumped against a curb. He picked himself up, brushed off the broken glass, and took a quick look around.

  The Pandoran police, in unmarked squad cars, had the front covered. More were arriving, lights flaring and sirens wailing. A large van—presumably to be used to haul away the unfortunates who got caught—drifted ponderously down from the sky.

  Tess’s staff car was fenced in, fore and aft, by two Pandoran cop cars. If she managed to escape, she’d be traveling back to the base on foot.

  Xris fretted over this, reminded himself that she knew the territory. She was quite capable of taking care of herself. Still, he hazarded a few more seconds he couldn’t afford, hoping to catch sight of her. That proved useless. Bodies were diving through the windows. Fights had broken out. The Pandoran police surged through the parking lot, attempting to cordon off the back of the building. Xris didn’t dare wait any longer. He ran.