Hard Luck Hank: Basketful of Crap (26 page)

We waited until night, but the food
riot turned into a general riot.

What people expected to do with a
new wardrobe in Belvaille’s current situation was anyone’s guess.

Delovoa and I met up at five in the
morning because we figured looters slept in. One of our connecting trains was
derailed. It was actually on the ground. I had never seen that in my more than
a century on Belvaille. How did a bunch of malcontents manage to knock a train
off its tracks?

Delovoa had two huge suitcases full
of equipment, which I carried.

“This is a terrible mistake,”
Delovoa said.

“If you’ve been spending years
learning ancient Colmarian you must have figured you were going to be doing
this sooner or later.”

“I thought it might break out, not
that we would release it on purpose.”

We came to the only block without a
name. The so-called Nameless Block, whose name, of course, was a contradiction.

There was a giant metal sphere
fused with the road about halfway up the block.

Inside the bubble was ZR3. The
robot who had gone on a rampage and had given me a permanent limp, had broken
Wallow’s ankle, and killed innumerable Navy soldiers, and it took a level-ten
mutant just to stop it—not even destroy it.

“Practice this phrase,” Delovoa
said, as he readied his equipment. “Shaeol Bruesti.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Stop.”

“Can’t you say it?”

“If it kills me, you’re going to
want to know it. And here.”

He handed me a big tarp. We had a
theory that ZR3 “might” deactivate when it was denied light. So I was going to
chase around a homicidal robot, who was the biggest badass on the station, with
a blanket.

It was hours and hours of Delovoa
drilling and cutting at the bubble.

I didn’t know if we could control
ZR3, but I knew it had beat up Wallow. I hoped it could take out the Portal.

If it went crazy again, well that
would just be another thing to worry about. I practiced the phrase as I waited.

Delovoa backed away from the sphere
but it looked completely intact.

“What have you been doing all this
time?” I asked.

“Weakening it.”

I was about to ask when I heard
scraping. The metal sphere was very slowly deforming. ZR3 was pushing out from
the inside!

I got my blanket ready. I should
have wet it first so it would be stickier and have some weight.

I could see the bubble separating
along Delovoa’s mathematically precise incisions.

As the containment sphere was about
to split apart completely, Delovoa yelled the phrase.

All movement stopped.

Delovoa looked back at me with a
relieved expression.

“Wasn’t sure that would work,” he
said.

We did not know what ZR3 was, if it
was a Dredel Led robot or an ancient Colmarian robot or something altogether
different. We knew it responded to some ancient Colmarian phrases and had sat
in Delovoa’s basement, deactivated, for over a decade until we accidentally
woke it up.

We could see its legs sticking out
from its burst metal cocoon. It was about eight feet tall, half that wide, and
three feet deep. Solid white in color, with no rivets or screws or bolts
anywhere.

Its arms and legs were square
columns and it lacked hands. Delovoa speculated it was designed to push
something. It had no head or neck, but the front contained a dark hole that
looked like a single eye. In simple, large black letters on its right front was
stenciled “ZR3.”

When you said those letters, it
would answer in the affirmative. We didn’t know if that was its name or translated
into something else. Such as, “Do you like the smell of peppermint?”

“You ready to try this?” he asked.

Seeing it right there, I was really
having my doubts. It was the cause of my only permanent injuries.

Most Colmarians, since we were
little children, were told scary stories about robots—we had none in our entire
empire. They were illegal. Dredel Led were an unfriendly robotic species. So we
were suspicious, terrified more like it, of all robots.

ZR3 sat under a tarp in Delovoa’s
basement perfectly content and then went on a killing spree, perfectly content.
You can’t reason with a machine. Delovoa and I were armed with keywords and
blankets, that’s the logic of robots. Even Therezians I could understand. I
couldn’t hurt them, but I could understand them.

“I suppose,” I said uneasily.

Delovoa spouted more gibberish and
ZR3 continued his push out. That was steel alloy and it was walking through
like it was thick soup.

When it was free, Delovoa froze it
again. I really hope he didn’t suddenly lose his voice.

Delovoa walked in front and ZR3 followed
him. I was behind them both.

We encountered a number of people
along the way, but if I was scared of seeing it, normal, squishy people ran
away screaming.

It took us hours to reach the
southwest and be able to see the tops of the Therezians.

I went ahead of the group now,
scouting for cover. I moved from shadow to shadow. It was amazing that the
Therezians had only been here a short while and already I had developed the
finely-tuned instincts of a cockroach.

We got as close to the Therezians
as we felt safe and could see the Portal monoliths clearly.

Delovoa motioned me to step back.

He gave what sounded like a very
complex set of instructions to ZR3.

Immediately it took off at a run
towards the Portal. ZR3 running was a frightening thing. It was so heavy it
actually created dimples in the sprayed roadwork that covers Belvaille. But for
all that weight, it was incredibly fast.

There was what must have been a hundred-foot
Therezian right in front of us and ZR3 ran straight up to it and began
attacking its toes.

“What? Does it have a chip on its
shoulder or something? It went after the biggest one. I thought you said to
destroy the Portal.”

“There is no ‘Portal’ in ancient
Colmarian. It’s
ancient
Colmarian. I did my best.”

It was hard to see what was going
on because it was so distant.

“Are we far enough back that if
that guy falls down he’s not going to land on us?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

It seemed like long moments passed.

“Did it stop or something?”

“I thought it was hitting him, but
it can’t be. I’m not walking under a Therezian to give it new orders.”

We were confused about what ZR3 was
doing because the Therezian had not responded. Slowly, the giant looked to the
left. It then looked to the right. It then looked down. It stared down at ZR3
as if it was amazed anything could be so small.

It bent down and picked up ZR3 in
its left hand and examined it closer.

“Oh man, that guy is going to get
punched in the face!” I said.

“I hope it doesn’t attack all of
them before it reaches the Portal,” Delovoa added.

Suddenly, the Therezian raised his
right fist and brought it down into his left hand. It sounded like a sonic
boom. Maybe it was.

The Therezian then made a flicking
motion with his left hand.

Streaming overhead, backlit by the
latticework, a million fragments of what was once ZR3 twinkled in the light and
vanished into the city beyond.

Delovoa and I were quiet for some
time.

“Huh,” I concluded.

“You’re still alive. So I take it
your mission was a success?” Garm asked.

The two of us were in her office at
City Hall. I was seated and had my legs spread out in front of me. I really
wanted someone to bring me coffee.

“It was only successful in that Delovoa
and I survived.”

“That’s not much to show for it.
What’s wrong?” she asked, seeing my expression.

“We released ZR3.”

“Uh oh.”

“No, one of the Therezians punched
it and broke it into little tiny ZR3 pieces. Like it was a stale cracker. Did
you find the Quadrad?” I asked.

“Finding two people in a city is
hard enough. Finding two Quadrad is near impossible.”

“Do you know why they stole the
device? I mean, what’s the point if they can’t leave?”

She took a deep breath.

“Quadrad contracts are a big deal.
If they were hired to get it, they’re going to get it, regardless of what
condition the station is in. That’s why I didn’t want to let them out of our
agreement. Now they’re free to do anything.”

“So how are we going to find them?
If we can figure out the disintegrator maybe we can start zapping away our
problems.”

“You might try Tamshius,” Garm said
with great difficulty.

“How would he know anything?”

“He comes from my solar system.”

“So is everyone on this station Quadrad
except me?”

“He’s not Quadrad,” she said, insulted.
“He’s from a completely different planet. Our planets…didn’t get along that
well.”

“Ah, so that’s why you guys were
always fighting.”

Tamshius qua-Froyeled had been the
biggest gang leader on old Belvaille back when Garm was the official Adjunct
Overwatch. The fact they disliked each other caused quite a few problems.

“I don’t like him because he’s an
arrogant chauvinist who thinks we’re living back on his home world. But if
anyone has a spy network here it’s him. He always seemed to know what I was
doing. And still does.”

“Won’t hurt to ask. I always liked him.”

Tamshius was no longer a big boss
like he had been, but he’d managed to keep several casinos, some restaurants,
and clubs.

I waited in the lobby of one of his
casinos. Despite the riots, things looked undisturbed except a general increase
in security.

One of the guards finally came over
to me. I didn’t know him.

“My brother died in your little
assault on the corporation,” he said. He looked like he wanted me to mouth off.

“I’m sorry for your loss. None of
it went as planned. We were tricked.”

The guard seemed to consider that
and then waved me through. I had to take off my shoes to walk to the back
office.

I was wearing my Therezian hair
booties and they had a lot of lacing. It took me several minutes to get them undone
and the guard came to check on me several times. Probably wondering if I didn’t
know how to tie my shoes.

“Greetings, Hank. It has been far
too long since you have honored my house.” Tamshius said, bowing.

He was an elderly man, thin, with
splotched skin. He had tufts of white hair that stuck out like squares on the
sides of his head. He was dressed in expensive cloth-of-gold robes that seemed
to practically crush his tiny frame.

His office looked like a museum,
with artwork, and weapons, and outfits from, I assumed, his home planet. I looked
at them closer now because I just couldn’t see Garm being connected with
anything remotely like that. It was all so formal and stylized. Sure, the two
of them originated from different planets, but presumably they had some things
in common being from the same solar system.

He lit an incense stick which had a
particularly putrid aroma. I tried not to crinkle my nose.

I found Tamshius’s rituals more
elaborate each time I visited. I wasn’t sure if it was because as he got older
he felt more comfortable repeating what he grew up with, or he was inventing it
as he went along.

He unfurled a mat left to right on
the ground in front of me and right to left in front of him. He motioned to me
as he sat down cross-legged.

I wasn’t sure I could sit like
that. And I was less sure I could get back up.

“Um. Can I move this over?” I
asked, indicating a small tree in a metal planter.

This took him by surprise, but he
nodded.

I dragged it over, making a
horrible racket.

I then positioned myself roughly
above the mat and let her rip. I got my knees about halfway bent and then I
fell on my back.

After considerable scooting around,
I managed to get into a seated position. I held onto the planter with one hand
and had one hand behind me holding me up.

Tamshius, as polite as he was,
looked at a loss for words. Probably because I almost landed on him when I fell.

“So,” I started. “How have you
been?”

“We live in trying times. But never
has it not been thus.”

“Yeah. I suppose you heard the
Portals are down. Maybe even completely destroyed.”

“It is a grave misfortune. I ponder
what we have done to deserve such punishment.”

“Thing is, I might have an idea how
to save us.”

“Hank,” he said, holding his hands
together, “always you have been selfless in your services. Your sacrifices will
surely earn you many rings in heaven.”

“Thank you. But let’s not get too
far ahead. I may require your assistance,” I said carefully. I didn’t want to
mention Garm’s name directly because it usually sent him into a fury.

“I am your humble servant if it may
remove us from our current tribulations.”

“I need to find two women on the
station.”

He cocked his head.

“Are they in my employ?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“You may consult my staff, but I do
not see how I could provide any insights beyond your own.”

“Well, they are Quadrad—”

Tamshius jumped to his feet, his
face red. He started cussing in what I took to be his native tongue as he ran
to his desk.

I figured he was going for a gun
and I leaned on the pot to stand, but I knocked it over and fell on my back
again.

Tamshius stood above me with an
electrical device and it made various noises.

“Shh,” he said to me.

He walked around the room with the
device as I kept trying to stand.

“The room is clear,” he said
finally.

“Clear of what?”

“The Quadrad are an evil blight.
Long have my people suffered their depredations. They are lacking in any
nobility of spirit. I had to confirm you weren’t under surveillance.”

“Oh. So, I’m trying to find them
because they have something of mine that…they have—”

“They stole it you mean! You do not
have to honey your words, I know well their ways.”

“Sure, they stole it. And I think
it might help us if we can get it back. I just can’t find them.”

Tamshius grew suspicious.

“How is it you knew to question
me?”

“I was told you came from the same
solar system. I hoped you might know of them.”

He relaxed back into anger.

“Oh, I know too greatly and at
great cost. I may be able to assist you, but you must take
Hor-kan shi-jo
,”
he spat.

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Our most solemn oath that you will
not ever reveal the source of my help.”

“Sure.”

I held up my hand in a promise.

“It is a ceremony.”

Of course it was.

An hour later I was being fitted
for robes. They had to be of a certain cloth harvested during a certain month
from a certain region on his home world.

Several hours after that, in my new
robes, I was kneeling next to a small brass idol with five hands and three
heads. Tamshius walked slowly around the room lighting candles of various
colors while chanting.

It occurred to me that he could be
making all this up. Like once I left he would have a good belly laugh about having
me do all this.

He still hadn’t told me anything
and I had no clue what he was going to say. At the end he might go, “They have
pale skin,” or something else I already knew.

Tamshius wrote the contract, asked
me if I swore on my ancestors and my ancestral home.

I swore.

He then signed his name, pricked
his hand with a six inch metal rod with two prongs and dabbed his blood on the
contract.

Hmm.

I signed my name. I picked up my
own metal rod. I poked myself with it and the prongs bent.

“Do I have to use this?” I asked.

“Shh,” he shushed me.

He rang a small gong and leaned in
to whisper while it was still ringing.

“You may lance your genitals as
well.”

“What?” How was that the next best
solution?

He rang the gong again.

“It is a sign of sincere
commitment,” he said.

“I’m not stabbing my private
parts.”

Tamshius seemed disappointed. He
then opened his mouth and pointed inside it, shrugging his shoulders.

I took the rod and tried to
straighten the prongs. I poked my tongue, but it didn’t exactly want to stay
still and my tongue was pretty tough. I put it against my gum where my cheek
connected and jammed it, rubbing the area with my finger, but there was no
blood.

I had a pale sister shove a dagger
in my mouth and it didn’t do much. This little olive fork wasn’t going to cut
me.

“Can I—” I reached over and flicked
the gong with my finger, which I could see annoyed Tamshius, “can I use
something else? This is too flimsy.”

He sighed then reluctantly nodded.

How was I going to do this? I
didn’t want to shoot myself just to get a drop of blood.

I know.

I pointed to the gong. He rang it.

“Can you order me a whole
Chilatae?”

“The reptile?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

You could just see all his dreams
of a respectful ceremony were already out the window. With as much dignity as
he could muster, which was considerable, he stood up and spoke into his tele
which he kept on his desk.

He then returned and sat in front
of me. He entered what appeared to be a meditative trance for the next thirty
minutes while my food came.

There was a discreet knock at the
door and Tamshius got up and answered it.

He handed me a container about a
foot square and sat back down.

Inside was a cooked Chilatae. It
was a relatively large water reptile that we cultivated on Belvaille because it
was easy. They grew in aquariums. I wasn’t sure where it originated from.

I picked it up and started eating.

Without ringing the gong and with
mouth open, Tamshius warned me urgently.

“You’re supposed to take it out of
its shell first!”

I shook my head.

I chewed as hard as I could and
sure enough, I felt a sharp pinch in my front upper. I scraped the area with my
finger and got some blood.

I held it up to Tamshius to confirm.

He seemed like he wanted this whole
ordeal over so he just nodded.

I wiped it on the contract.

Chilatae was kind of black and
savory, so I was wiping saliva, blood, and black gunk from the reptile.

Tamshius covered the contract with
a protective sheet. He walked around dousing the candles while half-heartedly
chanting.

“Now let me show you my trick,” he
said with a grin.