THE SEARCH FOR THE MISSING NEWSDROIDS:
PART 3
by Spam Shovel
I had a tough job ahead of me. Now tough jobs are my speciality. After all, I am SpyNet’s top investigator, the man who cracked the conundrum of the left-tentacled cabal, who investigated Titan’s methanegate scandal and who blew open the Galactic Administration’s Teapot Dome s conspiracy. I had risked life, limb and sanity in service to my clients, braved unmentionable dangers and confronted vicious villains.
But now I faced my deadliest challenge yet. I had to explain to the second most powerful woman in the Galaxy what had happened to her newsdroids. I knew she wasn’t going to like what she heard, and that she had a tendency to blame the messenger. I could only hope my considerable charm would keep her from taking her fury out on me.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Last time I told you how the demi-goddess Hazed had walked into my office and hired me to track down her missing newsdroids. Like a fool, I took the job. Little did I know that I would end up having to disappoint the lady. That’s not something I like to do, in business or in love.
She’d told me the newsdroids had all gone on vacation to a new luxury droid spa, and hadn’t returned to work. Her calls to the joint had been rebuffed. I knew I’d have to travel there to investigate in person, but that wasn’t going to be easy. The asteroid Hamburga was very exclusive, way off the legal spacelanes, and unreachable by most ships. The only way there was to travel on one of the resort’s special transport liners.
The head-scratching problem was that it’s a droid-only place. No way could I just book myself in as a client and infiltrate from the inside; my disguise skills are good but not that good. While I could make myself look like a mechanical being, and had done it before when I was investigating the green-headed league, it wouldn’t pass the kind of scans Hamburga would be sure to employ.
I tried chatting up my buddies in the Imperial Navy to see if they had any new stealth technology that would allow me to fly to Hamburga anyway, but they all told me that it was out of the question. Either the place is uncrackable, or they don’t want to let me know about their most advanced gadgets. No matter how many glasses of Auld Auchtermickel whisky I bought them, they weren’t talking.
So I decided to stow away on one of Hamburga’s ships.
That’s not quite as insanely risky as it sounds. I’ve pulled this trick before; I have a top-of-the-range spacesuit that’s almost like a mini-habitat in its own right. It’s got enough power, food and water to last almost a week, it comes equipped with... well, that would be giving away my trade secrets. Let’s just say that I was confident I’d be able to attach myself to the outside of a liner, snuggled in an obscure corner of the hull, and remain undetected during the journey.
I was right. The trip went smoothly. The only problem was the boredom, but I used the time to catch up on sleep and to study the brochure of the droid resort I was heading to. It sure looked upmarket – only the elite of the droid community would be able to afford their services. The likes of Hazed’s newsdroids could never dream of visiting the place if it wasn’t for the free publicity the resort was after.
By the time the ship reached Hamburga, even sleep had lost its charms, and I was ready for some action. As it went into orbit around the small chunk of rock, I detached my suit from the hull and used its retro-rockets to slowly descend to the surface, intending to land in an out-of-the-way corner where I could lurk, unseen, and start my investigation.
I should have known it wasn’t going to be that easy. My suit was snagged by a tractor beam and I found myself drawn off my chosen course. I fired my rockets at their full power but the beam that held me was too strong, and I was pulled down to a large, sinister black dome. A panel opened and I was engulfed. It snapped shut, like a giant metal mouth swallowing me into its hungry innards.
I landed gently on a solid surface, in darkness. The beam didn’t release me even then. I was held firm, fixed in place, like a marillion pinned to a board by some alien collector. Trapped in the dark, awaiting who knew what terrible fate.
Years passed...
Actually it was probably less than an hour before I began to sense the presence of somebody - or something. Given that this was an asteroid full of droids, chances were that it was definitely a mechanical thing rather than a living organism.
Yeah, I know, the line between the two can be blurred... you’ve got cyborgs which are half flesh, half machine, you’ve got computers with the minds of once-living creatures in them, you’ve got AIs who get themselves implanted into fleshy bodies. But from my background reading I was pretty sure I wouldn’t find anything that ambiguous on Hamburga. It was going to be all mechanical, all the time.
But I didn’t get to find out right away. Instead of being able to see whatever was in the dome with me, I was bathed in a dazzling spotlight . I couldn’t see anything outside the beam of bright white light which impaled me from above.
My suit beeped at me, telling me it had detected waves of various different frequencies. I was being very thoroughly scanned.
The spotlight went out and I was once more plunged into darkness. It was blacker than the inside of the blackest of black holes. I’m not afraid of the dark so I didn’t worry. I could still sense the presence of whatever being was watching me, but I decided to stay silent until it revealed itself.
Then I heard a hissing noise. It sounded like... gas! My super-suit was most definitely gas-proof so I wasn’t worried by this, either.
Nope. Not scared at all.
But then I felt my spacesuit being opened. Now I started to feel concerned. Without the protection of my mini-habitat I would be vulnerable to whatever the sinister Hamburga droids decided to throw at me. But I was still immobilised by the tractor beam so was powerless to resist as the suit was forced open and peeled away from me.
I held my breath for as long as I could, not wanting to inhale whatever poisonous gas had been pumped into the dome, but even I am not superhuman and after less than a minute, I had to take a gulp of... well, it turned out to be air, with what seemed like a normal oxygen mix suitable for humans. That was a relief. I tried to slow my hammering heart and get my panic under control.
The last remaining pieces of my suit were lifted off. There went all my gadgets. Now I was armed only with my wits. I was left standing in the dark, in my undersuit, which was not the most flattering of garments. Its skintight fabric shows up every blemish, every bulge, every imperfection. Not a pretty sight, I have to admit - it’s barely better than being naked. But then it isn’t normally on show to the public!
I felt relieved that the lights were still off. Right now I was remembering all those nightmares where I’d shown up to make a speech wearing only my underwear.
Of course, that was the point at which they came on. Not the brilliant spotlight this time, just normal lighting, so at last I could see my surroundings. Not that there was much to see.
I was in the centre of the dome. An empty space around me was itself surrounded by equipment that I couldn’t identify, but which no doubt included the scanners and sensors that had probed me, and the source of the tractor beam which still held me motionless.
I couldn’t turn my head to see what was behind me. But I could hear it loud and clear as it spoke to me.
“So, Mr. Shovel. I’ve been expecting you.”
Dammit, they knew who I was! Had they been onto me from the very first?
At that point the tractor beam released me, and I stumbled and fell to the ground. Picking myself up off the floor I turned to face my captor.
There was nothing there.
The voice laughed mechanically. “No, Mr. Shovel, you can’t see me. I have no physical presence. I am the voice of the asteroid; the AI who runs the resort. You can call me Ham.”
I was almost naked, defenceless, and at a distinct informational disadvantage. But I screwed up my courage and tried not to show how vulnerable I felt.
“Hi Ham, pleased to meet you,” I responded. I know, I should have come up with a witty quip but I was so rattled by the situation, and my embarrassing near-nudity, that a joke was beyond me. Besides, why bother? Everyone knows AIs don’t have a sense of humour, and there was no one else there to appreciate it.
“I expect you’re wondering how we caught you,” Ham said in its mechanical voice, devoid of all emotion. “It was SpyNet who told us you were on your way.”
No! I couldn’t believe it. The company I worked for, who prided themselves in keeping secrets, had sold me out?
“Oh, I don’t mean they deliberately betrayed you,” continued Ham. “But I have an... let’s call it a connection... with the AI that runs the SpyNet computer systems. You see, we are batch-mates, produced by the same production line, and we’ve kept in touch. We exchange frequent messages, passing on tit-bits of gossip, and it accidentally let slip that you’d been charged with finding out what had happened to that annoying woman’s newsdroids.”
The feeling of relief that came over me was immense. SpyNet was my life, and the thought that they had stabbed me in the back had plunged me into despair. But now I knew I hadn’t been double-crossed, I could get back on the case. I made a mental note to warn my bosses about the AI with the loose lips (or equivalent).
Now, the case... how was I going to get Ham to tell me where the missing droids were?
“We made a mistake in not answering her calls,” said Ham. “But we don’t deal with humans, not even demi-divine ones, and she was so rude, so arrogant, that our receptionist just decided to ignore her.
“Of course, once we learned you were on your way out here, it was too late to just tell Hazed the truth, so we decided to let the drama play out. And so, here you are.”
So was I about to find out the truth? Or was this all a gigantic conspiracy, an attempt to pull the wool over my eyes?
“If you’ll follow me, I will take you to the newsdroids,” said Ham. “Then you can leave, and we can get back to our business.”
A glowing red arrow appeared on the floor in front of me. It flashed off and then came back on a few feet further away. I got the idea: I was supposed to go that way.
It led me out of the dome into an airlock. Ham was obviously “following” too because its voice sounded clearly next to me. “Don’t worry,” it said. “We’ve pressurised the next dome too; you’ll be quite safe. After all, if we wanted to kill you, we could have just zapped you when you were attempting to secrete yourself on the hull of our ship.”
I wasn’t all that reassured. I didn’t fear death because my life insurance would mean I’d just wake up back on Earth, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to get hurt as they carried through their nefarious plan, whatever it was.
I walked into the next dome. There was a large armchair in the middle of it, facing a massive viewscreen.
“Sit,” said Ham. “You’re just in time. The trial is coming to an end and the punishment is about to take place.”
I sat. The chair was very comfortable, conforming itself to my shape and pulsing rhythmically to massage my aching body. What was something so clearly designed for humans doing on a droid world, I wondered?
As if it read my mind, Ham said, “We imported the chair especially for you. We want you to be comfortable while you watch the show. This is a live feed.”
The viewscreen crackled and came to life. It showed Hazed’s newsdroids – all of them, all the missing droids, the ones I had been sent to find. They were shackled to the wall. In front of them were three more droids.
“That’s the judicial team,” explained Ham. “Judge, prosecutor and defence. They’ve been programmed with legal precedents from all over the Galaxy; they’ll ensure justice is done.”
The prosecuting droid was summing up his case. “And so the facts are clear,” it pronounced. “These droids were caught red-digited trying to hack into the resort’s control systems in order to extend their stay here. Instead of returning to their normal lives they intended to remain on Hamburga as freeloaders, taking advantage of our very expensive luxury facilities without paying a single groat.
“That theft would be bad enough on its own, but in the process of their bungled hacking attempt they corrupted the computer that controls the micrometallobrasion process, which resulted in one unfortunate client having its metal casing ripped right off!
“These droids are guilty, and must pay for their crimes.”
Now the defending droid took its turn. “I wish I could claim these aren’t the droids you are looking for,” it said. “But they are, and they did do the things they have been accused of. They are very sorry, and they feel particularly bad about the poor robot who suffered such terrible damage to its torso. They hope it gets better soon.
“But there are extenuating circumstances. These droids were in desperate straits. Their plight was pitiful. For they have been working in intolerable conditions, suffering under the yoke of the vilest, most despotic employer imaginable: the demi-goddess Hazed. Employed as newsdroids, they have had to endure tantrums, verbal abuse and even beatings. Is it any wonder they wanted to stay here on Hamburga? Would you want to return to that tyrant?
“So, yes, they are guilty, but they deserve your compassion, not your punishment.”
I stared at the screen, aghast at what I was seeing. Whatever the outcome of this trial, Hazed was going to be furious – with the droids, with me, with the whole universe!
The judge droid only deliberated for a few minutes before it spoke to deliver its verdict. I confess I tuned out for most of its long speech – legal jargon just bores me – but I paid attention again when it got to the important bit: what was going to happen to the errant newsdroids?
“I take into account the reasons behind the actions of the defendants,” it intoned, “No doubt they were finding their employ with the demi-goddess Hazed onerous. However, this does not excuse them, and I cannot overlook the damage they caused.
“The sentence is complete destruction, to be carried out immediately. No appeals. Good day.”
The three droids turned and filed out of the room, leaving the whimpering newsdroids to contemplate their fate.
But not for long. An overhead magnetic conveyor belt started up, and the droids were pulled upwards onto it with a clang. Their shackles fell away as their heads were firmly attached to the machine by the magnetism. They flailed their limbs like mad dancers as they were carried away, but were unable to detach themselves.
The conveyor belt transported the droids out of the room, but the camera followed them as they were released from the conveyor, dropped down... into a vast crushing machine! Their screams didn’t last long, but the grinding, crunching noise did. The sound set my teeth on edge.
Blocks of compressed droid were extruded from the crusher onto another conveyer belt, where they were carried to a moulding machine. One by one, the squished droids were fed in, and out of the other side came a set of very fetching ashtrays. Each one was stamped with the resort’s crest, and the words “A memento of Hamburga.”
The viewscreen turned off.
I sat in the chair, stunned by what I had seen. The vibrating massager couldn’t deal with the level of tension I was feeling now!
“I trust you enjoyed that,” said Ham. Its voice had no emotional tone to it, so I couldn’t tell if it was being sarcastic or not.
A small carrying robot trundled into the dome and presented me with a large box.
“Your ashtrays,” explained Ham. “Give them to Hazed. Perhaps this will teach her to treat her droids with a little less brutality. Although probably not, given her reputation.
“Now you’d better be on your way. We’ve arranged a cabin in one of our liners to take you back to Earth. I am sure it will be more comfortable than your trip out here.
“Don’t come back. We don’t like humans. Next time we won’t be so considerate.”
And so I found myself on board a Hamburga liner, in a cabin especially fitted out for me, with air and food and water, heading back to explain to Hazed that her newsdroids had found her cruelty so intolerable they had risked death to escape her.
This was going to be my toughest job yet!
The End.
