Steven Campbell - Hard Luck Hank - Screw the Galaxy

Except I couldn’t remotely hide this much. They had given me a closet to use and I was going to put my Ontakian pistol in it.

However.

Jyonal had knocked the whole city unconscious when he got drunk. He had shaken the city to its foundations when he got high. What would happen if he went into drug withdrawal?

It was eventually going to become pretty difficult to score a hit on Belvaille, and that might be bad for Jyonal—which might be very bad for all of us.

But did he even go into withdrawal with his homemade body? I suppose I could ask him, but I didn’t want him to get upset.

“I don’t have the room,” I said plainly. “No one does. Not in any of the protected containers.”

Grever jumped with excitement.

“Right, but I don’t need one of those high tech jars you all have. If they could scan for,” and he reached down and grabbed a drug, “Dysolinol at range, there wouldn’t be any drug dealers in the galaxy. Sure, they can scan it if they have it in their hand, but they can’t just zap waves out and know you’re smoking. These are the same compounds in everyday food, just rearranged. I mean, there are a few that can be detected, because they’re so oddball, but I didn’t buy any of them.”

So he just confirmed he bought all this stuff after knowing the Navy was coming. Jerk.

I hadn’t really kept abreast of what, if anything, was being stored in the hidden areas, the buildings that weren’t on blueprints and the secret caches underground. I’d heard they were even strapping cargo boxes on the outside of the station, though that seemed awful risky considering we’d be surrounded by warships.

“I don’t know, Grever. I can almost be certain you bought too much, regardless of where we hide it. You might have to burn it.”

And Grever clasped his hands together, pleading.

“Hank, this is all my money. Every credit. If I lose this, I’m on the street. I literally got nothing.”

“Yeah, but you made this play on your own, selling out once the city goes dry.”

“Hank, can you check? Can you try? I will cut you in. Whatever percentage you want.”

“Let me ask,” I said. I specifically had to find out what Jyonal needed, which scared me to death. And I had to ask Garm what I could use, which also scared me to death.

I hadn’t spoken to Garm in more than a week, I knew how slammed she was trying to get the city in order. To bug her over one drug dealer seemed incautious. But it might be necessary.

I figured I could always play it safe and stuff my own cabinet full of drugs and feed those to Jyonal as he needed. But with his appetite it might not last long.

“Thanks, man, thanks,” Grever said. He handed me a packet of drugs—in gratitude, I suppose.

I was about to return it, but then I thought this would be a good way to open the subject with Jyonal.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be in touch.”

I got an urgent tele from Delovoa as I was at the Belvaille Gentleman’s Club watching the Ginland glocken sports team lose for like the one billionth time. Foolishly I answered my tele.

“It’s following me now,” he whispered in a manic tone.

I hung up.

There could be only one thing he was talking about, and it was a little bit more than my brain could handle. I sipped my drink, people nearby were talking at me, but I couldn’t concentrate.

I got up and hit the train. I completely ignored about a dozen people trying to start conversations. I checked and rechecked my shotgun, though I didn’t suspect it would be of much use. I powered on my Ontakian pistol and hoped it had at least one more shot in it. People stopped trying to talk to me at about this time.

I paused outside Delovoa’s. Did I really want to be facing off against another Dredel Led so early? Shouldn’t I notify Garm?

I buzzed the door and waited.

“Come in, Hank,” came a distant yell.

I threw open the door.

Inside was a terrified Delovoa pressed against the wall. Next to him, in the doorway to the adjacent room, was ZR3.

Wow, was it big.

I gingerly stepped inside, regretting my decision to come here immediately.

The sight of ZR3 so close, having obviously moved on its own power, was enough to stun me. It could barely fit in the hallway, and Delovoa’s home was custom-built for moving large objects with autolifters.

I kept still. I didn’t say anything. I think I was waiting for ZR3. But it was as impassive as ever.

“So,” I said quietly to Delovoa. “You’ve got a robot in your living room.”

“It’s following me around,” Delovoa whispered back. He was still pressed flat against the wall. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a while, three bags under his three eyes.

“Why would it do that?”

Delovoa shrugged. “I might have issued it a command,” Delovoa said, “without knowing it.”

“Might?”

“I-I was talking to it.”

I felt my anger rise, but nothing can keep the old blood pressure down more than a Dredel Led standing ten feet away.

“Why were you talking to it?” I asked as calmly as possible.

“Because it had answered to its name. I wondered if it could answer other questions.”

“Did it?” I asked.

“No. But when I went to leave the basement it walked after me.”

I felt myself perspiring but didn’t want to make any sudden moves, so I just let the sweat drip down my face.

“Have you tried asking it to stop?”

“Yes.”

“Did it work?”

“What do you think?” Delovoa nudged his head towards the Dredel Led.

I thought he was in no place to be getting smart.

“What exactly do you want me to do, Delovoa?”

“You trashed two of them.”

He wanted me to fight it? He was nuts.

“That ain’t going to happen. Try and take it back into the basement,” I said.

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“How did you get it up here?”

“I walked.”

“Well…”

“It’s blocking the door.”

It’s true, it was.

“Back into your kitchen,” I said.

Delovoa gingerly slid along the wall and around the corner. ZR3 did not move and then suddenly, BOOM!

It took a huge step forward, swinging its arms and bending its knees to maintain balance. Its weight was so colossal I could actually feel it vibrating the metal house. It twisted its torso, which could pivot independently, then took another step. Then evened its legs and stood straight.

It was now about five feet away from me, but was facing Delovoa so its side was to me.

We did not speak or move for some time.

“It wasn’t that heavy when I moved it in here,” Delovoa finally said.

I was extremely uncomfortable speaking while it was standing so close. It had actually moved with some speed considering its size and weight. Faster than me. If it reached out that column of an arm, it could smash me against the wall like a bug.

I took some deep breaths, directing my exhales away from the robot.

“You’re saying it gained weight while it was under that sheet?”

“I moved it in by myself when I bought it,” Delovoa said. “I supposed it was mostly hollow for it to be that light.”

That didn’t make any sense. How could a Dredel Led get fatter? Was it eating on the sly?

“Walk around it,” I said.

“You walk around it.”

“We have to get it to the basement.”

Delovoa did not seem interested. Then I realized to my horror:

“Hey, us talking might accidentally give it more commands.”

Delovoa’s three eyes popped wide and he bit his lip. But then he got an idea.

“Tell it to follow you,” he said.

I shook my head. Nice try.

“No one is going to care if a Dredel Led is following you,” he reasoned. “They’ll just figure you beat it up.”