Chapter 18Extended Warranties
>
DATE:
16.03.7088
>
TIME:
15:09:22
UST
(UNIVERSAL
STANDARD TIME)
// LOCATION TRIANGULATION //
>
SYSTEM:
INTERSTELLAR
SPACE
>>
BODY: nil
>>>
SETTLEMENT:
WAYSTATION #0085
>>>>
LOCAL:
SUB-ACCESS HALL
#FR-13-NewDev
The
sub-halls of most
Waystations
were dirty, scratched, and filled with rubbish. Humans tended
to stay away as
broken power cells often
ended
up in the lost corners
of the labyrinth,
leaking radiation.
Only service and security droids used the hidden thoroughfares,
leaving the numerous side rooms free to be used for whoever
was brave enough to walk the halls.
There were
some humans that had the bravery, or perhaps the stupidity, to delve
in the Understation, but they were few and far between. Besides, the
denizens of this space did not take kindly to wetware.
The
run down droid beeped angrily, the smashed
faceplate barely peeking
out the door.
The
broad-shouldered man spoke quietly, his voice shifting into the
sharp, rising and falling tones of the Kernel Tongue, its roots in
Ancient Mandarin. The archaic vowels were almost sung, jarring
against the dirty surroundings.
“The
.
Query: He leaned heavily
against the wall next to the door, blocking the view from the service
droids behind him.
More rapid
beeps, and a bare mechanical hand missing its plating gestured
further down the hallway.
“OK,
at
is sufficient data.”
The
man sighed, standing back upright, his leather jacket creaking with
the movement. He shoved his hands in the outer pockets. A
lotus, burnt into the
back of the leather, swallowed the
artificial light. Emergency
transfer suboptimal with current-”
The bot
leaned almost all the way out, letting out high-pitch screeches.
“Don’t
get angry at me!”
The Dark Lotus agent pressed his hands against his chest, his eyes
wide, slipping into a
less formal dialect. “I
didn’t program them-”
He was cut off with three distinct, loud
klaxons before the door was slammed in his face.
“Oh
for the love of-,” he muttered, spinning on his heel and
stalking off in the direction the damaged bot had indicated. He
fluidly switched back to Common, grousing under his breath. “I
swear he gets grumpier every time I see him.”
He massaged
the side of his neck,
drawing his nails lightly across the skin as he then moved his hand
to ruffle his brown hair. He
shoved his hands back into his jacket
pockets, letting his
feet carry him down the familiar pathways. He continued even when the
traffic died off, leaving him walking alone through the mounds of
rubbish. And went
further still when the
rubbish mounds abruptly stopped, leaving a clean, tidy and sterile
corridor.
The turn
off was marked with a large, faded logo plastered across the wall. A
white star encircled with white rings, and superimposed
with the silhouette of an original Seeder ship. The old design
reminiscent of the Departure Era ships humanity sent out to the first
100 systems in their
first push for interstellar terraforming.
The lone
figure
ignored the wall decal, taking a sharp right into an alcove and
roughly pushing open the
lone door, marked ‘STELLA C. PERSONNEL ONLY’ in faded cursive script.
The
room beyond was a stark contrast to the empty, clean corridor
just outside. A sizeable warehouse, built within the core of the
station where the walls were hidden behind rows and rows of stacked
crates, husks of deactivated robots, appliances, and various other
shaped machinery.
Az the
mercenary walked in. His eyes swept the towers of steel, not out of
curiosity, but checking the shadows for anything that moved, before
he settled into a confident stride toward the centre of the hoard.
His brown eyes staring dead ahead, angled jaw firmly set, and his
hands still deep within his jacket. As if gearing himself up for
something unpleasant.
As soon as
he stepped into the heart of the room, he threw his arms wide, a
smirk tugging his lips, and proclaimed loudly in Kernel Tongue, dropping the robotic formality.“I’m
here for your
He leaned
onto a metal box, the attached screens dark as if deactivated.
“Why
hello, unit Three-?
You should really at
all the space you’ve got now
He patted
the top of the box, chuckling darkly, moving on to a giant
white android
suspended
in the air by a rubberised
clamp crane. He
leaned against the faded red machine, looking up at the large robot.
“Unit One-Zero,
you’re looking shiny today. Is
that a new leg plate? Still giving me the silent
treatment, I
see.”
The man
shook his head, scoffing to himself in Common. “Feeling the love
today, I tell you what.” He walked forward, ignoring the stiff but
sleek humanoid robot standing next to the sleeping giant. The robot
was shorter than Az, and it was watching him. Its head slowly rotated
to keep him in sight. He was wearing a pressed tweed vest with pants
held up with a belt. The white faceplate was a continuous piece of
metal vacuum-pressed to outline the shape of a human face. The eyes
and mouth were lined with seams of light, while gold filigree was
swirled into elegant lines leading the gaze either back to the mouth and eyes.
“Sir,
always a displeasure.” The robot spoke in fluent Common, its tone
disgusted but polite.
“Aww!
You’re talking to me today!” Adopting a saccharine cheer in his
voice and matching languages, Az leaned forward to match eye level
with the synthetic being. “How are things, Unit Three-Zero? Still
finding specks of dust outside? Frustrated about the state of your
little...safehouse?”
“You mock
me, sir.” Three-Zero turned on the balls of its feet, stalking away
from the smiling man. “I am hastening the relocation of Three-Two,
the ‘master chef’, by communicating the utter disdain I have for
you both.”
“Using
your polite words today, nice!” The affable man followed, smirking
as he ran his eyes over the various shapes in the clearing. “I
noticed, again, none of you greet me by name-”
“Your
name, , is not important We
tolerate you. Always have. Always will. And you insist on wearing…
nonsynthetic skin.” The caretaker looked back at the mercenary, the
robotic eyes making a show of inspecting him head to toe, eyes lingering on the jacket. “It is
primitive. It is visceral. Please remove your biological emissions as
soon as is possible from my vicinity, and take Three-Two with you.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Az pouted,
muttering under his breath the leather was sourced ethically. Before
clearing his throat and asking the important question. “So what did
they do this time? Broke Face Aje said something about a roast? It
wasn’t even the organics this time, it was the service synths?”
“Well.
Our sibling shares some of your… proclivities.” Three-Zero
stopped before a door, bulky and locked tight. “Ask about the roast
at your own peril. I know my sleep cycles will never be the same.”
Az frowned,
angled his head quizzically. “And you all locked them in here?”
“For
their safety, as much as it was for our sanity.” Three-Zero twisted
a manual release lever to the open position, the door hissing open
and steam escaping the cracks.
The room
was sterile, but the air was thick with humidity, a cloying scent of
meat heavy in the air. Three-Two sat in the centre of the room, a
gleaming, black-enamel castle of culinary perfection with a
smart-splashback that was currently glowing a soft, sultry red.
Az’s
colour drained, and let out a groan that was lost in the store-rooms’
corners, his hands preemptively moving to his head.
Az’s
colour drained, and let out a groan that was lost in the store-rooms’
corners, his hands preemptively moving to his head.
Responding
to the noise, the splashback’s screen switched to a face similar to
Three-Zero, the masculine-coded face was gunmetal grey and the light
seams contouring the features were a soft red.
“Is that
my favouri-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,” a baritone voice started talking
huskily, before interrupting itself with an ear-splitting shriek.
Already
prepared, Az had his hands over his ears. He stalked forward and
rapped the unit’s counter top with his knuckles. “Shut up, you
idiot. What the fuck did you do this time?!”
“Eurgh,
you.” Three-Two spat back. “Why couldn’t you bring Four-Five?
He’s a lot nicer to me.”
“Oh fuck
you too!” Az snarled, his arm swinging wide as he pointed out the
door. “You’re meant to be in the cargo hold of the Stargazer on
your way to Zoron!”
Three-Two
chuckled, a deep, breathy baritone that vibrated the floor plates. Az
rolled his eyes in disgust.
“The
Stargazer,” the appliance purred. “A vessel without passion. A
crew without... appetite.”
“Of
course fucking not! It’s Kitt’s ship! No humans and no
biofuellers on board!”
“I can’t
help my compulsions, Az!” The glorified oven wailed mournfully, the
digital eyes leaking liquid like tears, thick and viscous like honey.
“You, most of all, understand the urge to-”
“Don’t
even think of finishing that sentence,” Az threatened, pointed at
the screen before holding his palms out, shaking his head. “You
know what I don’t need to know what you did to the roast. I don’t
even WANT to know the kind of roast-”
“Chicken.”
A moment of
silence stretched between the two, before a a hiss of steam escaped
from a side-vent to the construct. The face’s light seams pulsed a
bright pink.
“De-boned….”
“Oh,
gross!” Az jerked back, stepping away from the steaming vents. “You
know what? I have the perfect transport for you in mind. I can take
you there.”
“Do not
defile my finish with your biological oils! You’ll contaminate my
illustrious surface. I’ve been polished don’t you know.”
Cupboards and appliance doors snapped open then shut in an attempt to
catch the low light in a gleam against its surface. “I can wait for
Four-Five. After all… I have… another roast. Beef this time.”
The cabinet
side that housed the fridge pinged sultrily.
Az groaned
even louder than before, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he sought
patience. Just any patience. He was about to say something when loud
marching footsteps signalled a very welcome arrival.
“Oh thank
the wireless,” Az turned around on his heel and spread his arms
wide. “There’s my favourite sec bot! How was babysitting duty?”
The large,
black sentinel drank in the dim light in the doorway. The dark visor
revealing nothing as Forty-Five stepped inside, pushing a mag-assist
trolley in front of him. A lump wrapped in canvas sat on top. He
looked at Az for a brief second as if acknowledging the man’s
existence before shoving the trolley forward. Az was forced to step
to the side.
“Oof, you
too, huh?” Az said, his expression faltering slightly from its
forced cheer. “Well, par for the course. Glad you could come here
so quick, change of plans. Euron, you’re going with big boy. Hope
you like the accommodations...and the crew.”
Forty-Five
ignored the mercenary, busying himself with moving the bundle then
loading the kitchen unit onto the trolley. Euron let out a contented,
vibrating hum as the cold metal clamps secured him.
Az let the
facade fall completely, out of patience and willpower to keep
pretending. A brief darkness overtook his posture before he stalked
forward and snatched up the canvas.
He opened
the bundle to reveal an external power cell and cables. He got to
work, creating a jerry-rigged power supply for Euron’s dependence
on a wall outlet, and ignoring further attempts at conversation.
Once the
connection snapped into place, Euron’s screen flared, glowing a
satisfied, steady red.
“Oo-hoo-hoo.
Spicy
Az didn’t
respond. He stood up, dusted his hands on his jacket, and looked at
the sentinel standing by. He gestured to the door with a sharp jerk
of his chin, barking a sharp, singular command for ‘leave’ in
formal Kernel.
“
Forty-Five
paused for a moment before he turned the trolley, the rusty wheels
screaming against the silence, and began the march back to the
Reckless. Az trailed behind, shoving his hands deep into his pockets,
letting the shadows of the warehouse swallow his expression before he
stepped back out into the light of the corridor.
The long
walk back to the upper levels did little to ease the scowl on Az’s
face. Mostly ignored by the service droids, they avoided his path.
Forty-Five wordlessly turned off into a side corridor towards the
port. The furrow in Az’s brow deepened with every step. His teeth
ground together, his hands shaking in the depths of his pockets.
He slowed
his steps, diverting his feet so he could lean against the dirty
wall. The back of his head hit the wall with a dull thud, his eyes
closed against the harsh light. His trembling hands came to clasp
around the back of his neck, his nails trailing against his skin
before coming to a rest.
“I need a
fucking distraction,” he whispered to himself.
A soft,
slow beeping distracted him.
He came
away from the wall, ruffling his hair to loosen any dirt from the
strands. He looked around, his eyes falling on a small cleaner bot
trying to disengage from a pile of discarded synthetic rags.
“Well
then,” he muttered, slipping into the clipping, rapid tones of
informal Kernel. He came to squat next to the little droid. “Do
you hate me too? Or do you
The slow
beeps turned quizzical, the low and high tones forming a sentence he
could decipher.
Az
chuckled. “I’m not interested in your bits, but since you’re
so worried about being decommissioned…” He pushed the fabric
back, finding one of the hems caught around a wheel. A couple of deft
movements, and the robot was free.
“There
you go.” Az pulled the freed robot into his lap, turning it
upside down. He balanced on the balls of his feet as he made sure not
to sit on the filthy floor. The robot protested loudly, the wheels
spinning wildly. power
source.”
He
concentrated on his task, the small cleaner was held together with clips and
tape. He looked around, making sure the hallway was clear. He saw a
hunched figure in the distance in grey rags, but they were faced away
from him.
He pulled
the plating off, hearing the satisfactory snaps releasing before
placing his fingers over the ends of the cell that provided the
energy. A faint static crackle filled the air, and his hair rose off
the back of his neck for a second, the tips arcing with a faint
yellow light. The robot squealed. The beeps became clearer and
louder.
Az shook
his hand out with a pained grimace. He quickly put the robot back
together, gently placing it back down.
“Alright,
you should be back up to 80%.” He stood up, dusting his hands
on his pants. “If you need a safe place to charge, go bother
Aje, down the sub-access hall
“Systems
Optimal. Query: Reason?” The
little robot finally had enough charge to use its voice synthesizer.
Az
shrugged, replacing his hands in his pockets, striding back towards
the upper levels, switching to Common. “Just felt like it. Stay out of trouble.”
He
hummed a tune, a soft smile on his face as
he passed by the shivering lump in grey rags, another victim of the
‘Liberation’ epidemic. A security droid should be by later and
clean the mess.
