The hydrogen-powered backup gennie on Phoebe had been installed in a smaller crater nestled within the main one and near the filling point for the underground hydrogen storage tanks. Caleb, Spruck, Natalie, and Bert stepped up to the lip of the smaller crater and paused, staring at the simple shipping container that housed it. A laser matrix that acted as an electric fence of sorts surrounded the structure. Caleb waved nonchalantly at the fence. “It’s just light. Those things aren’t lethal.
Spruck gave him a double take. “You sure?”
Caleb shrugged. “A lethal laser fence is just as illegal as any laser that can be shot at more than flesh.”
Natalie said, “Cop ships have lethal lasers. Your Diamond Girl there has them.”
“OK, sure, but why put a lethal fence around a backup gennie?” No one responded, so Caleb continued, “I’m just happy that nobody else has thought to pinch this yet.” He held up his lock popper. “Anyway, there’s nobody here. So what if we set off an alarm?”
“Famous last words,” said Natalie.
Caleb said, “You stay on the rim and keep a lookout for I don’t know what. In fact, Spruck, you stay here too until I get it open. Bot, be a dear and go walk in front of me through that laser fence.”
Bert turned to Spruck. “Do you have a redundant tool in your box that I might use, Mr. Spruck?”
“Huh?”
“Perhaps you have two of the same type of wrench?”
“Oh, uh, sure.” Spruck popped open the tool box and lifted out a short crescent wrench, handing it to Bert.
“Thank you.”
Caleb followed Bert down into the crater, the floor of which was roughly six meters below surface level. Bert moved with a steady rhythm that showed off his stability gyros’ capacity to make a walk down the steep sidewall look like a stroll. Caleb stepped off and immediately slipped in slow motion with his arms flailing, sliding down on his butt.
Bert walked the twenty paces to the fence and then gingerly held the wrench up to one of the laser beams. The beam pulsed suddenly brighter. Sparks showered as the handle of the wrench turned molten orange, and the head fell to the dirt. Bert let the rest of the ruined tool fall as well then turned to Spruck. “I am sorry, Mr. Spruck. I hope your wrench was indeed redundant.”
“Holy pigeon poop!” came Jennifer’s voice through all of their helmets.
Caleb said, “Hmm. There’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
Twenty minutes later, Spruck and Caleb were about finished disassembling two of the eight flexible solar panels from the
Phoebe
shuttle’s back. Spruck was struggling with a bolt and grunting. “You sure this will work?”
“No. How could I be sure? They are mirror-like though, right? Mirrors reflect light, right?”
“They are an integral part of this ship that offers passive battery charging. A part of the ship that is critical for habitation when the engines are not in use.”
“Do you see any other mirrors around here? That aren’t also protected by death rays?”
Spruck grunted. “I need a fucking torque wrench for this one. I don’t have a torque wrench.”
“So let’s just try another one? Bolt that one back and I’ll work on this one.”
“I’m going to need to swap out my air if we screw around with this much longer.”
Caleb sighed and stood. “Are you always so whiny?”
“Are you always so happy-go-fucking-lucky?”
“Gentlemen,” came Saanvi’s soothing voice, “this is stressful enough, let’s try to keep things light, shall we?”
Caleb said under his breath, “I’m not
that
happy-go-lucky.”
Spruck said, “Sorry. I meant starry-eyed nitwit. And you can’t whisper under your breath on an open channel and not expect everyone to hear.”
Jennifer said, “You
are
pretty happy-go-lucky, Caleb.”
Any words of kindness from Jennifer ramped up the stupid part of Caleb’s brain, and he decided that he was indeed happy-go-lucky after all.
They rebooted 782-WLawrence and when the machine opened its eyes Caleb said, “Hello, bot. Stand up.”
782-WLawrence did as commanded while giving Bert another glance of if not hate, then at least distrust.
Caleb handed 782-WLawrence one of the solar panels, which was roughly the robot’s height and a meter wide. “Hold this.”
The robot easily hefted the solar panel by the mounting brackets on its back side. 782-WLawrence looked like a riot policeman with a giant shield. Spruck handed it the second panel, which it held aloft with its other hand. Caleb pointed down at the backup gennie. “March down there.”
782-WLawrence said, “Sir. The laser matrix that you see below is not as it appears. It is set to destroy anything that passes.”
“Yeah, yeah, Sherlock, we know.”
“I am known as 782-WLawrence.”
“And that is why, from now on, I am calling you Sherlock, Sherlock. March down there and stop before you reach the laser fence.”
This time, Caleb jumped from the lip and landed with a fairly graceful two-bounce stop before pacing himself behind the robot. “OK, so this is what’s going to happen. You’re going to step up to the laser fence with those panels on either side of you and block the paths of the beams. You will do so while leaving enough room for me to pass under one of your arms to get to the other side.”
“Sir, I must respectfully refuse. With the exception of saving human life, I am not allowed to place myself in imminent danger.”
“If you don’t do it, I will do it, thus placing myself in imminent danger. I am ordering you to protect me from imminent danger.”
The robot offered what looked like genuine frustration. “Very well, sir.”
Spruck called from the lip of the crater. “Caleb, this is a bad idea. Why don’t we call it a day?”
“I second that,” came Jennifer’s voice.
Caleb stopped and turned. “No. I did not run from some tyrannical artificial intelligence back home to end up laboring for room and board on some rock for the rest of my life. I came out here to be free. Freedom is not free. There are hundreds of millions of people who will easily trade it for safety. I’m not one of them. It requires a willingness to die for it. I am taking that risk.”
“Eloquently said, sir,” said 782-WLawrence.
Caleb eyeballed 782-WLawrence for a long second before saying, “You’re a machine. A machine. Got that, Sherlock?”
“A machine. Yes, sir. Are you ready for me to put my existence at risk for you now, sir?”
“Yes.”
The robot lifted the solar panels and stepped into the fence. The beams grew bright at once, ricocheting off in different directions while also shattering some of the panel’s protective coating. Caleb got a running start and dove through the gap under the robot’s outstretched right arm, landed short, and pulled his legs through. He then hefted himself up, reached out, and yanked the robot across with him. The fence reorganized itself and Caleb said, “There. That wasn’t so bad.” He glanced down and noted that the robot’s right boot smoldered with a clean hole to the ground. The robot tested the foot and took an uneasy step. It was slightly awkward, but the appendage still held it from falling over. Caleb mumbled, “Sorry,” and turned his attention to the locked container door. The lock popper cracked it open with the press of a button. To Caleb’s surprise, the generator had a panel on it indicating that it was silently working away. He said, “I don’t understand. This is clearly a backup gennie. Why is it operating?”
782-WLawrence said, “May I hazard that the generator provides its own security, sir, providing power to the fence?”
“Yet another reason to call you Sherlock. You suck, by the way, as security personnel.” Caleb stepped over to the control panel and pressed the clearly marked international symbol for off. The operation lights dimmed and flickered out, and the laser fence instantly disappeared.
“Right on, Caleb!” came Jennifer’s voice.
“Oh ye of little faith,” he shot back.
“Nice,” said Spruck, walking up to the door with Natalie and Bert right behind. “Let’s get to work.”
Caleb gently pushed them back. “Now hold on just a sec. Five minutes ago you lot were ready to walk away. Nobody said scavenging was going to be easy. It’s never easy. I need to know you guys have the skin for this game. If not, I’ll do this on my own. Gung-ho or go home I say.”
There was a brief silence then Jennifer piped in. “I’ve got the skin.”
“Me, too,” said Saanvi.
“I’m sorry I was a whiny bitch,” said Spruck.
“I’ve always been in,” said Natalie. “Just watching and learning here.”
Caleb said, “Fine, Natalie. Then it’s time for you to shine. Put those mechanical skills together and get this thing unbolted from this box.” Just then, Caleb noticed a bit of movement in the sky. A small, black basketball-size drone hovered one hundred meters up. Its camera was clearly aimed right at them. “Shit.” He reached to the ground, picked up a baseball-size rock, and heaved it at the drone. With the light gravity, the stone took off like a bullet. The drone nevertheless side-slipped it.
Caleb turned to 782-WLawrence. “I’ve neglected to ask you who you work for, Sherlock.”
“I am subleased to the Hanson Police via the Fanning Security Group, a subcorporation of Wang Fat Industries. As you are wearing a Hanson Police suit, this information should be readily at your disposal.”
“Shit,” said Caleb, Natalie, and Spruck in unison.
“I’m sorry, Sherlock. Turn around and present your port again.” The robot did as it was told, and Caleb shut it down once more. He then took out his nerve disrupter from its holster and stuck the pointy end into the small cavity in the base of the robot’s neck.
Bert said, “That will likely permanently disable it, sir.”
Caleb pulled the trigger. The robot slumped over from its cross-legged position. The others, including Bert, stared at the heap. Caleb said, “We take it with us and dump it in deep space on the way back.” He holstered the disrupter and clapped his hands together. “OK. Chop chop. Bert, you stay and assist Natalie and Spruck getting this thing free of the container. Jen, I need you to suit up and help me reinstall the solar panels. They’re pretty beat up, but they seem like they could still soak up some juice.”
Jennifer finished getting out of the airlock as he arrived back at the shuttle. She spoke not a word but listened to instructions as Caleb had her climb up on the roof to receive the panels has he handed them up. They continued to work in silence. Finally, Jennifer said, “Can we have a private on 2?” They both switched to channel 2. She said, “Did you have to—”
He interrupted, finishing the sentence. “Kill it? Yes. That bot would not have undergone reprogramming willingly. It would have worked diligently to get back to its masters. It would have gotten us all killed. You said you have the skin.”
She was silent for a moment, then said, “I do. I’m just learning, like Natalie.”
“We’re all learning.”
“No. You clearly have a handle on this. The tough stuff anyway. I hope I’m not biting off more than I can chew.”
“You’re doing fine.”
“Thanks, but gunning people down in cold blood . . .”
Caleb stopped what he was doing and tried to find her eyes through the reflective shield on her helmet. “It was a machine not a
people
. A computer with arms and legs.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“If you shot Bert in the head, it would be like you killed a friend of mine.”
Caleb started to protest, only to be interrupted by her this time.
Jennifer said, “But . . . but, I know, if Bert were to threaten any of us. If he was to take on the mentality of AI . . . I’d pull the trigger myself.”
Caleb began cranking in another bolt. “Good.”
Caleb and Jennifer refueled all of the ships, his pop-lock once again coming in handy with the fuel dock-lock. Twice more, Caleb threw rocks at the hovering drone, and Jennifer nearly nailed it with an impressive toss. The machine was like an annoying fly that kept buzzing at the ears but was otherwise harmless. It was nevertheless disconcerting to think of all the footage of their activity it was sending to wherever. Saanvi, meanwhile, kept a tight vigil on any unwanted company.
Spruck called out, “Um, we need help here.”
Natalie had wedged herself in the back of the generator container, her life-support pack firmly jammed between a handful of pipes running through a side wall of the container to the back of the generator. They could see only Natalie’s legs sticking up from behind the machine.
Natalie yelled, “Last fucking bolt. It’s not like this thing was meant to be ripped out of here. Not exactly user-friendly.”
“Did you get the last bolt?” asked Caleb.
“No! Fucking thing is just out of fucking reach! Can’t go farther and can’t back out.”
“Like Winnie the Pooh in Rabbit’s hole,” said Spruck.
“Winnie the what?” asked Caleb.
“Oh, come on; you can’t tell me you haven’t heard of Winnie the Pooh?”
Natalie said, “Who gives a shit about Winnie the Pooh? I need help.”
Spruck laughed. “You’ll just have to go on a diet for a week, Nat.”
“What? Fuck you, jackass! Get me out of here.”
Caleb pointed inside the container and asked Bert, as if the robot were a bad dog, “Have you tried to get her out? And why didn’t you get your skinny ass in there to remove the bolt?”
“I have attempted to dislodge her, sir. Natalie has managed to situate herself so that there is a ninety-eight percent probability that her exosuit will rip at the air exchange junction if she moves either direction. Such a tear will completely compromise the suit while leaving her with approximately a seventy percent chance of remaining lodged. As to my rear quarters, I fail to see how that could loosen the bolt. But I get the joke.”
Natalie piped in, “Annnnd my heads-up is telling me I’ve got fifteen minutes of air in the can. Maybe you guys can swap in another one while we sort this out?”
“Negative,” said Bert. “The access port on your suit, Natalie, is also blocked.”
“Wow, Nat,” said Caleb. “Been there.”
“Fuck you. Get me out of here.”
“Heehaw! Yippie-ki-yea, motherfucker! Nailed you!” Caleb watched with deep satisfaction as the pest of a drone dropped and bounced like a dying beachball across the ground. He held up his finger like a pistol and pretended to blow smoke off the tip before putting it back in an imaginary holster.