Bad Rock Beat Down (The Milky Way Repo Series Book 2)

by Michael Prelee

  “Better late than never,” she said.

  His face fell to a woeful, dejected expression. “I think I may have made a mistake using my own code to manage these things.”

  They walked back to the large canopy that provided shelter to his work bench and the other work stations. A ‘bot’s head lay open on the bench and stared at them with blank eyes. The decapitated body stood nearby, silently awaiting the reattachment of its head. They both took a stool and sat down.

  “I thought your code instructed them to drop everything and perform firefighting duties if someone yelled ‘fire’,” Ariadna said.

  Eldridge pulled a mobi out of his back pocket and started tapping. “Well that one did warn me that things were getting hot.” He smiled and sighed. “They are supposed to do that. I wrote a sub function specifically for that action and it passed testing. Now it’s number one hundred twenty two on my priority list.”

  “Fighting fires ranks one-hundred twenty-two?”

  “Prioritizing the list is item number one. I suspect firefighting will move up in importance once that’s accomplished.” He leaned back on his stool and stretched. “Just look at that mess.”

  From their vantage point under the canopy they could see the Athena Star stretched out across the red dirt of Epsilon Eridani III. What had once been a glorious six-hundred-meter starliner lay under the dim sun in a twisted, mangled wreck. The bow had plowed deep into the ground and collapsed under the force of the impact from the crash. The forward section of the upper decks had pancaked on top of one another and now the forward half of the vessel appeared like it had been made of clay and squashed by a child’s hands. The middle section of the ship had gaps blown in the hull where air pressure from the collapsing forward decks had escaped. The back third of the ship stuck up in the air at about a thirty-degree angle. The main engines had been largely disassembled and dozens of ‘bots crawled over the hull like ants on an animal carcass.

  The robotic workers came in a multitude of shapes and sizes but most had the humanoid look of domestic ‘bots found in people’s homes and restaurants. They were a motley looking bunch with varying paint jobs.

  Ariadna leaned over and held his hand. “That mess is going to make us a lot of money.”

  “I know, but we’ve been working on it for three months and we’ve just hit our six-week goal. At this rate we’ll be broke by the time we finish. How much of the work force is on the job today?”

  “Well, the good news is that of the half-dozen human workers you managed to sign up for this effort, one-hundred percent of them showed up. The bad news is, only seventy percent of the ‘bots have managed to drag their lazy asses out of bed.”

  Eldridge rubbed his eyes. “That’s not good.”

  “It’s not all bad,” she said. “Most of them will be out of the shop today. A lot of the problem is wear and tear on cutting tools and lifting apparatus. The shop ‘bots are helping Scooter get them repaired and she says most of them will be back on the job this afternoon. There are about eight that need to have their operating system reloaded.” She patted his hand. “Hang in there. No one said running a startup company would be easy.”

  He grunted. “I have to admit, I thought I really had a better mousetrap here.”

  “You do but it’s going to take time to work the kinks out.”

  “I suppose. It’s just a big risk is all. I’m substituting all these ‘bots for human workers and it may end up biting us in the rump.”

  Ari’s eyes narrowed. “Can I ask you a question, honey?”

  “Sure.”

  “What do you suppose that ‘bot is doing?” She said, and pointed toward the wreck. “The one that is standing horizontally on the side of the ship, just forward of the port side engine. He’s dancing or something.”

  Eldridge squinted and followed her finger until he saw a ‘bot sticking out at a ninety-degree angle from the ship’s hull with its magnetized feet. Its torso turned at the waist toward the sky and then snapped back toward the ground. “I’m guessing he just volunteered to become problem number one-hundred twenty-three.”

  Ari stood up. “It’s my shift so I’ll go check him out.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and walked over to one of the four wheeled carts kitted out as a service vehicle with toolboxes and a small crane.

  “Hey, be careful if it catches fire,” he said. “None of those others will help you put him out.” She smiled and he watched as she drove off. Her brown pony tail bobbed up and down as the service buggy bounced over some ruts.

  Eldridge pulled up the metrics dashboard on his mobi. The management software collected hundreds of thousands of data elements and sliced and diced them into reports he could check on the dashboard. He grimaced when he got to the sorting and processing graphs. “What the hell?”

  The ‘bots crawling on the Athena Star like ants cut her into manageable chunks. Others took those chunks to the sorting piles, where another group of ‘bots reduced them further and sorted them according to the type of material. Once sorted, ‘bots loaded the material into shuttles, or trucks, for transport up to the Corkscrew for final processing and recycling. What Eldridge saw on the graphs worried him.

  He rose and stuck the mobi in his back pocket. He mounted a float bike and skimmed around the rear of the Athena Star. A minute later he dismounted and approached an older man with a gray pony tail sticking out from under a dirty red cap wearing denim overalls and a stained t-shirt. “Hey Fred,” he called.

  The older man waved to him and stepped away from the ‘bots he had been speaking with. “Hey yourself, Eldridge. What’s up?”

  Eldridge held up his mobi. “What’s going on with the numbers? We’re about fifty tons shy for processing. Did we have some kind of problem last night? Are the ‘bots giving you problems?”

  The older man tipped his cap back on his head. “Oh, we’ve had problems but it’s got nothing to do with the ‘bots. They’re running just fine. It’s those damn locals you got sorting piles two and three.” He pointed down range. “Them assholes are slowing everything down.”

  Eldridge grimaced and squinted at the other sorting piles. Fred’s pile had a large placard identifying it as ‘Pile 1’ in bright red letters and it contained less material than the piles labeled two and three that stood fifty and one hundred meters away. The fire had been at pile four and it had less scrap than two and three.

  “Now look, Eldridge, I know we had to bring on some locals to get this contract. But the two guys you have running those sorts don’t know what the hell they’re doing. I went over and spoke to the guy on two and he’s got crap in little piles everywhere. He’s got the ‘bots so screwed up with his bad instructions, they’re running half as fast as mine.”

  Eldridge grimaced. Bringing on the locals had been a concession he’d had to make to the local government and now he regretted it. “Okay, Fred, I’ll go see what I can do about getting them straightened out.”

  “Hell, Eldridge, just fire their ass and get Bobby and Charlie down here off the Corkscrew. That’s why you brought them out here, isn’t it?”

  Eldridge walked back to his float bike and mounted up. “I’ll take care of it, Fred. See what you can do about getting us back up to quota.”

  It only took a minute to get to Pile Two and another few seconds after that for his temper to rise. Two men, both scruffy locals with gang tattoos and long hair, sat on folding chairs with a deck of cards on a table between them. Both wore ripped jeans and shirts sporting the Crater Salvage logo. The big one on the left had his sleeves cut off revealing large arms. They gave him a sideways glance when he dismounted the bike and then went back to their game. Eldridge took a deep breath before walking over to them.

  As he got closer Eldridge noticed another restriction on his worksite, a couple beers sitting on the table. He took a look at the ‘bots and saw Fred had been right. They sorted the main dump pil
e into progressively smaller piles. Eldridge walked around and saw little hills composed of electronic components and precious metals. The planetside sort should have been rough. The fine sorting took place up on the Corkscrew where the automated machines could do it more quickly. Eldridge noticed Truck 4 and Truck 6 sitting mostly empty behind the piles. These shuttles hauled the sorted material up to the Corkscrew. The work plan called for them to be loaded and flying up or unloaded and coming down for more material. They should never be sitting empty on the ground. Eldridge turned back to the card game and addressed the guy sitting to his left.

  “Turtle, what’s going on over here? Your numbers are way too low.”

  Turtle answered Eldridge with a southern drawl. “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, you are tons behind and we have a quota to make.”

  Turtle turned to his card playing companion. “Daryl, remind me again who we work for. I’m having a hell of a time remembering.”

  The man called Daryl set his cards down and rubbed his chin. “Well, Eldridge here pays us.”

  “Yes.”

  “But we do what Dodger says. So, I guess we work for Dodger.”

  “I’ll be damned if you haven’t sized up the situation correctly, Daryl. So, are we doing what Dodger told us to do?”

  Daryl picked up his cards. “That we are.”

  Turtle turned back to Eldridge and stood up. Taller and stockier, he had an air of menace about him. Eldridge took a step back.

  “See, Eldridge, we don’t have any problems here but if you have some kind of quota issue maybe you should go back the way you came and talk to that old bastard, Fred. He spends a lot time poking around on our piles when he should be tending to his own business.”

  “Fred’s concerned about the numbers,” Eldridge said. “I just need things to speed up is all.”

  “Well, maybe Fred can speed up his production? Oh, or maybe Ariadna can.” He turned and threw a knowing smile at Daryl. “Hey, you know what? Maybe Daryl and I should go see her later this evening. See if we can help her figure out a way to get things moving a little faster.” He leaned closer. “That okay with you, Eldridge?”

  Eldridge stood his ground and a hard look set in his eyes. “You stay here on your own patches. That’s the agreement. I just need the pace to pick up.”

  Turtle put a meaty hand on his shoulder and grinned at Daryl again. “Eldridge, if our work isn’t up to your high standards maybe you should speak with Dodger. I could call him if you want and set it up.”

  Eldridge swallowed and shook the hand off his shoulder. “If I want to speak with Dodger I’ll call him myself.”

  Turtle nodded and held his hands out. “Guess we’re all done here, then. Thanks for checking on us.” He flopped back into his folding chair and picked up his cards. Eldridge stood there another moment and turned back to the float bike. He gunned the motor and tore off for Pile 4.

  — «» —

  Later that night Eldridge and Ari sat down to dinner at a table beneath the same canopy that housed his work bench. The tent they shared stood behind them. Ari spooned some baked beans onto her plate and he sliced into a grilled pork chop. A ‘bot stood at the camp stove tending to corn bread.

  “I’ll give you credit, babe, repurposing domestic ‘bots does have some perks,” Ari said. “I’ve never eaten this well on a job site.”

  Eldridge nodded. “I’m glad you like it. Having these things cook for us is a lot easier than running into town for meals. As for repurposing the ‘bots for salvage, I’m starting to think that may not have been such a good idea. We’re still having a lot of problems. What happened with the one you found stuck on the side of the Athena Star this afternoon?”

  She groaned. “Oh, yeah, about that. I had to have two other ‘bots get him and carry him down. He worked on a cutting team slicing up that section of the hull. The work order specified where he should start. When he got to the correct spot his accelerometer indicated his orientation as horizontal and he expected to fall. His safety subroutines kicked in and he turned to try and climb back up. When he didn’t get the expected input of actually falling, his work routines kicked in, and he would try to start cutting. Once he turned back toward the ground, the whole sequence would start over again.”

  “Even though he stood there magnetized to the hull?”

  “Logic loop. The poor baby wound up confused and dancing to a beat only he could hear.”

  Eldridge sighed and took out his mobi. “I’ll update the code so the ‘bots don’t anticipate falling and only react if input from the accelerometer indicates they really are.” He tapped a few lines into the mobi. “There, it’s on the list.”

  The ‘bot serving dinner brought a plate of cornbread to the table and set it down. Eldridge took a piece and dipped into his beans. “You’re right, though,” he said. “They can cook.”

  “Anything else happen today?”

  “I had a little talk with Turtle and Daryl.”

  Ari put her cornbread down. “Oh yeah? What about?”

  Eldridge filled her in on the details of his confrontation and she shook her head when he finished. “Those guys are going to bleed us dry.”

  He leaned back from the table. “I know, but what can I do?”

  “Against Dodger? I don’t know. The deal we made with him is the only thing keeping the Bad Rock unions off our back so we can use the ‘bots instead of human labor. We pay him for ten positions and Turtle and Daryl are the only two who show up for work. Those two ladrones also get to cherry pick a ton of salvage every day for their boss.”

  “Ladrones?”

  She smiled. “Thieves.”

  “Ah,” he said, “that’s exactly right. The problem for us is that while they have their ‘bots sorting for precious metals and rare earth elements they’re slowing down the whole operation. We’re already weeks behind and it’s getting worse every day. Any ideas?”

  She gave him a vicious smile. “My dad would have shot them. He didn’t put up with gángsteres.”

  Eldridge didn’t need a translation for that one. He stared at the Athena Star. Ari’s dad, Roberto Macias, ran a salvage operation back in Go City where he recycled starships and industrial machinery. Eldridge had worked for him for almost ten years before deciding to go into business for himself. Cleaning up the starliner should be the job that let him and Ari start their business and be independent. Tanner had no problem imagining Ari’s fireplug of a father hefting a shotgun almost as tall as he was, and running off the thugs who were shaking them down.

  “Your dad operates on Earth and can call Protective Services if he runs into problems. We’re out here at the ass end of nowhere. Dodger may be a gangster but he’s also got the most men and guns. The nearest town is 10 klicks away and I don’t think I trust the police chief.”

  She took a sip of her drink. “Do you really think he’s corrupt? He seemed helpful enough every time we’ve met him.”

  “I don’t know, maybe he’s honest, maybe not.” Tanner thought back to the meeting he and Ari had attended with Bad Rock city leaders when they arrived. The police chief, Don Bell, a burly black man in his late fifties had been there with the mayor and city council.

  The Athena Star crashing outside their city had been the most exciting thing that had ever happened near Bad Rock. The mayor, a small woman named Carol Engster, seemed just as slick and opportunistic as every other politician Tanner had seen. After touring the crash site, she had explained to him and Ari in detail how the residents of Bad Rock had rushed to the scene with every intention of aiding survivors and saving the ship. Imagine their surprise when they got there and found that despite the fire and bluster of reentry, the Athena Star had landed relatively intact, with the survivors safely in lifeboats waiting to be rescued. Why, the good Lord must have been watching over all of them that day. Oh, and how many Bad Rock residents did Eldridge p
lan on hiring for the salvage operation?

  Bad Rock had been founded seventy years prior, after the discovery of iron rich ore in the valley near the local river. It grew up quickly to a settlement of about eighty thousand. Steel mills opened to produce the construction materials needed to settle the whole planet. Earth governments predicted that Epsilon Eridani III would be settled fairly quickly because it didn’t require expensive terraforming. The only problem ended up being that settlers preferred other locations.

  Planets like Olympus in the Alpha Centauri system had been terraformed to include large tropical zones for comfortable living. Beating out an existence on hard scrabble worlds like Epsilon Eridani III didn’t make sense unless you wanted to be there. Bad Rock had about ten thousand people remaining and it was the last official settlement on the planet. Tanner had no doubt humanity would eventually experience another wave of expansion but it would probably be a century before it pushed out this far again.

  The isolation Bad Rock experienced meant no neighbors to trade with and left the settlers at the mercy of the spacers who made their way out here to take advantage of the lonely settlement. The mayor explained the one steel mill still open produced good quality product but just about all of the economy in the city centered on that one mill.

  Eldridge had felt sorry telling her that he would probably need few locals because the majority of the work would be done by ‘bots. The gray-haired woman had changed from kindly grandmother to stone faced hard ass in a fast minute. Eldridge promised to hire whoever he could and to utilize as many businesses as possible but the diminutive woman had walked away without shaking his hand and he hadn’t seen her since.

  The police chief, Don Bell, had just smiled. As the mayor and her entourage walked away Bell turned to him and spoke to him with a deep and gravelly voice. “Is this your first time dealing with politicians, son?”