Steven Campbell - Hard Luck Hank - Screw the Galaxy

“Jyen, I haven’t left this station in about a hundred and forty years. You probably know more about the galaxy outside Belvaille than I do.”

“Why have you stayed so long?” she asked, obviously not so enamored with the charms of the city.

The question threw me.

“I suppose I’m scared to leave.”

There was an ugly silence.

“Can you help us?” she asked.

“What can I do that he can’t?”

“Look at him,” she said. “It takes all his concentration—all his drugged concentration—to be able to change things. It’s really difficult for him.”

“I just don’t know what I can do for you guys,” I explained.

“Can you get us fake documents? And transport?”

“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Yeah, I can get all kinds of stuff like that. I was thinking…I don’t know, you wanted me to take on the Colmarian military or something. You came to the right place for forgeries.” I was quite relieved.

Jyen jumped up and buried her face in my chest, her arms around me. Which was considerably more pleasant than being hit with an electric jolt.

“Thank you. Thank you,” she bubbled.

I was back in my native environment. Sort of.

“Documentation, egress, ingress, orange stamps, R.O.M.s, no problem. We can also book some fake passage for your existing identity and place it in some other part of the empire while you guys move. We’ll have to think of a good place for you to migrate.”

Jyen held her hands clasped and the tiniest squeal of joy escaped her. When she wasn’t blasting people or wearing sexy clothes she really seemed like a little girl.

“Let me make some calls. I’ll get back to you tomorrow, okay?”

“That’s perfect.”

As I was about to leave, trying my best to ignore the smeared metal walls, Jyen reminded me:

“Please do not say anything of what you saw here.”

It wasn’t a threat. But when it comes from the sister of a guy who can earthquake an entire space station at will, it pretty much becomes a threat.

Outside the building I felt good. I hadn’t realized I’d previously felt bad, but the specter of an entire species gunning for me had apparently weighed on my mind. Now it was just a matter of getting Jyen and Jyonal off Belvaille.

It might be hard without clueing Garm in, especially since she had closed the port when the Dredel Led showed up. Would she buy that it was for the greater good? Probably not. I had to convince Jyen to let Garm in on their secret.

I was thinking of people to get in touch with first when I heard a familiar noise. I looked back just in time to see a figure streak by, followed by a hard landing not five feet behind me.

“Son of a bitch.”

The Dredel Led was not looking at me, however. It faced the apartment building I had just exited.

I pulled my plasma pistol out with my left hand, tossed it about one foot to my right hand, so I could aim better. This was a terribly dangerous thing to do, but I did it without thinking. I caught it, raised it, powered it on with my thumb.

“Eat suck, suckface!”

Click.

Click.

Click.

I looked at my Ontakian pistol. There was no green glow. There was no abdomen-throbbing hum. It was absolutely inert even after flipping it on and off multiple times.

The robot turned around to face me and I knew I was going to die, really going to die. This was a new sensation for me: fear. Real, “there’s a poisonous spider in my pants” fear. I had to do something drastic.

I lunged forward and could tell the robot was the one from the video. Its right arm rose, attempting to become level with my chest. On the other robot, that same arm had owned a cannon that sent me cartwheeling through the air like the last chip on a gambling binge.

But I was at it. Toe-to-toe. I knew it could fly, and if it got away, got some range between us, it would just blast me until I was chunks. My theory was that, no matter what metal this thing was made out of, it was still metal. If it fired at this range it would kill the both of us. And hopefully it didn’t hate me more than it liked itself.

I had to incapacitate it or it would just move away, and there was no way my slow ass would stop it. I put my arms around it, wrapped my legs around its legs.

Now what?

The robot’s face was really a poor imitation of a Colmarian. I actually noticed the small gizmos just inside its eyes that controlled the movement of its lids and such. And its expressions in general seemed to be random as opposed to being tied to any action it was doing. Like it smiled briefly. Then it twitched. Then it crinkled its nose. Its features were all mismatched and unaligned. It was truly ugly and disturbing.

But its face wasn’t my concern. It had put its left hand under my right arm and was trying to break free of my bear hug. It was stronger than me. I could feel it in its grip alone. I wasn’t going to be able to hold onto it. But as we stumbled around, one thing became obvious: I outweighed it.

I heaved forward as hard as I could, keeping one leg behind it so it couldn’t easily reposition itself. We tumbled over and fell onto the sidewalk.

It then went into overdrive. It was hitting me and kicking and twisting its legs and moving every single piece of its frame independently, trying to get out from underneath. I was desperately trying to keep it pinned down.

I took a huge risk and with my left arm I reached into my coat and fumbled for my shotgun. I took blow after blow from the Dredel Led, and while they weren’t incredibly painful I became dizzy. He would start causing organ damage to me soon, no matter how hard my bones and exterior were.

I had my shotgun out in one hand and I pulled both triggers. The gun flew from my grasp because of the recoil. The face of the Dredel Led was gone. The outer material was gone. The features were gone. The little motors were gone. But the head, as it were, was still there. Underneath that cheap material was simply a knob. A silver metal bulb of sorts with no distinguishing features at all.

The robot did not vary one iota in its resistance.

I’d screwed up and assumed it was a Colmarian and that its vitals would be in its head. But why would they be? This was a robot—it could have its brain, or equivalent, in its elbow. Or two brains. Or no brain. How was I going to kill this thing?

I felt myself losing the fight. I got tired and it did not. I could try and take it up to Jyonal and let him turn this stupid thing inside out after he ingested some drugs, but I was not confident he could do it in a timely manner.

I similarly wasn’t confident I could stop the robot from murdering Jyen and Jyonal, despite each of their mutations. And I was very worried what Jyonal would do under pressure. It wouldn’t do much good if he destroyed Belvaille while trying to kill the robot. No good for me, anyway.

So I thought about what was the most dangerous thing on this adversary. It was that energy cannon. If it didn’t have that, at least I’d have a chance.

The Dredel Led’s arms were moving so quickly and were so powerful it was hard to even get hold of one. But I finally took hold of its right arm. I could vaguely feel an extra bulge outside its forearm that I guessed was a barrel.

In a desperate move, I let go of its body and both my hands secured its arm. Using all my weight, I banged the cannon against the ground over and over, trying to damage the weapon.

The robot had not been prepared for such a sudden shift. It was fighting to get me off its whole body, not protect one limb. But then the robot used its free arm to push me off and got to its feet.

I was lying on the ground. If it was going to make a move, this would be it. Two things had to be true for me to live. The cannon had to operate like a traditional firearm, and I had to have somehow dented or otherwise compromised that barrel.