2958 words
8
HETTYS ON BOARD
Giskard and Daneel bumped it only a little. “We-ell - done”, came Control quite positively. “You should see some of them! Poor shuttle comes back covered in dents. They lose their deposit of course. Think you’ll be oka—“
They were rudely interrupted. A new and most alarming voice came on line. “What you cunts doing?” Even Giskard and Daneel jumped. Nasty shades of the Sentity there. Surely not…surely it couldn't have resurrected itself. Oh nooooooooooooo! Hearts and positrons sank.
“Who are you?” Giskard asked bluntly. “This is our ship we’re trying to land on”.
“Are you the Sentity?” demanded Daneel. “If so, I order you to go away. Just shut up and be silent”.
“Well, such manners!”, came the new voice with injured self-righteousness.
“Well – you’re not much to speak of yourself”, Daneel retorted. “We’re simply wanting to dock this shuttle and come into our own ship. Does that make us cunts?”
“Well all visitors should have the manners to announce themselves beforehand. Not just clonk into us like that. Can’t you drive that thing properly”.
“We’re not visitors” Giskard said annoyed. “We own this crate— this ship. We don’t know who you are or – more importantly – what you're doing on our ship”.
“Hey,” Elijah called out. “Backseat driver speaking here. Just asking – is this the Good Ship Lollypop?”
“Well of course it bleeding is! Doesn’t your signal work? Or, more likely, don’t you know how to use it?”
“Stop being so rude,” Daneel said sharply. “And tell us who you are and how you got onto our ship…yes, you-are-on-our-ship. Geddit”.
“This is my ship!”
“No it’s not. It is ours”.
“No it’s not. Sod off”.
“If you’re going to be rude we’ll just stay here and be pains in the butt – in your butt”.
Control broke in. “What’s going on folks? Isn’t this your boat after all…?”
“Oh yes it bloody well— it is!”, Daneel said irefully. He can have quite a temper for a robot, as can Giskard. “This-is-our-ship. OK”.
Control said, “Are you sure…?”
“Yes!” chorused an increasingly annoyed pair of robots. “We f— we are, dammit!”
Daneel said, “Control, there’s someone on board our ship. How did they get in we wonder?”
“Oh dear”, said Control.”I can’t help you there. I’m only ground control you see.”.
“Who is that idiot?” came the new voice.
“If you don’t mind,”Giskard snapped, “that’s our ground Control.”
“Well he sounds as daft as you all sound to be”.
“Not half as daft as you. Guess we’ll now have to make you let us in….oh we have our ways. Be very afraid.”
There was an audible snigger. “So - what do you intend to do. Knock on the door? Blast us with masers?” and then, “That’s only a hired shuttle you’re on. So you must be gatecrashers. If you were genuine, you’d be on this ship’s own shuttle – plus you’d open your vidlink too if you had any manners”.
“A case of the pot calling the kettle black”, Daneel said. “Why should we when —“
“—yeah I know. ‘When it’s our own ship’ I hear you bleat”.
Elijah gave a gritty sigh. “Perhaps we’d better switch on the vidlink. Let’em see us for what we’re worth”.
Qute crossly Daneel stabbed the VidLink On button – nice and clearly labelled as a woman had designed this system. “There you are! See….Satisfied now?”
Thre was a muffled grunt and exclamation. “Shiiiiite! You're robots! Or one of you is.”
“Well – yes” Giskard said, “Any problem with that?”
“Have you not seen a robot before?” Daneel said caustically.
“Well of course I bleeding have. Right pains in the butt! And you're one of those grey ones”.
“Oh not fucking again!” groaned Giskard “This is colour-prejudice. What is it with ‘grey’ ones? Are we really such a terrible breed or something”.
“You’re telling me!”
“And whilst we’re about it” Daneel said, “You can switch on your vidlink too”.
“Well I'm definitely not letting any of you onto my ship! Forget it.”
Some robotese flowed between the two robots. Then, “Would you like to have a nice noise come over your Comm?....pump it over, Gizza!....there”.
Thre was a brief screech like electronic feedback. Elijah in fright flinched and covered his ears. Then it faded. “There….we’re getting it going. Shouldn't be heard in here, don’t worry Lije…there, it’s going over…”
“Aaaaah!” cried the voice. “Cut it fucking out you cunts!”
“Think we’re idiots, dude? Cra-a-ank it up! Gizza yours is the strongest. But we can do stereo if we both do it”.
They sat there emanating what must be a truly ghastly sound. It was their inbuilt ultrasonics, mostly deployed to frighten off annoying dogs, but now deployed on a much grander scale. It rose into megasonics and then supermegasonics….
“Owowowowwo!”
Daneel and Giskard stopped suddely. “Like to let us in now?”
No answer. So Giskard and Daneel simply started up again and went on and on and on….ujtil they suddenly stopped again to ask, “Aren’t you getting sick of this? Well we’ll lay off if you let us in now, promise”.
Start up again. On and on. Stop and ask, “Had enough…? I mean, we're robots and we can just go on forever you know. Or certainly long enough for you to have starved to death. That’s if your eardrums haven’t burst, of course”. The shuttle did have, as they all did, emergency rehydratable rations so that, when necessary, humans could feed on that, so Elijah wasn’t immediately worried by this implication that they might need to stay in the shuttle some time.
In the end the man in the ship had to give way. A signal came across that the airlock was opening. “Thank you”. They manoeuvred the shuttle inside, quite well this time, no bumps. The outer door sealed shut, air cycled and then the inner door opened. Giskard and Daneel took off their headsets and unstrapped themselves. Elijah did the same. They disembarked into the familiar old hangar.
“Some welcome party here”, Daneel remarked as they went up the connecting corridor into the main part of the ship. Nobody came to meet them. “Well, nor there should be. This is our ship after all”.
Then suddenly they were surrounded by – you guessed it – five hetty’s. “Oh no!”
“Oh this is boring” Giskard sighed and they gathered them all up by their wrists before the hettys could do anything; Elijah grabbed the fifth one, twisting his arms back into a pretzel. “We’ll take them down planetside again”.
“How did you get in?” Elijah demanded.
“You left the keys in the lock, ha ha”.
“Ha Ha”, Daneel said. “OK we were stupid there. Well that doesn’t give you any more right to come in here. We’re taking you out again. But first things first….”
The hettys looked a bit apprehensive here. Robotese flowed. Simultaneously Elijah had thought, we must find some rope and tie them up first.
They first hauled the hettys down to the hangar again. Daneel and Giskard kept hold of all five by threatening to break lots of bones if they didn’t behave whilst Elijah found some rope, thin enough to be flexible but strong enough too. One by one Elijah trussed them all up and Daneel and Giskard carried them back into the shuttle and deposited them sardine-style on the floor of the Control Room – not roughly but not exactly with kid gloves either. They swore and spat but couldn't do anything really.
Elijah didn’t really need to come down with them again but he didn’t want to be left behind either. So, they went all through the rigmarole in reverse. Open Airlock. Shut Airlock. Open outer airlock. Contact Control (who was quite worried by now). Take off. Then into orbit and finding the ‘window’ though which they could re-enter atmosphere again (a few whoopsies here as they skimmed and bounced off again but success on the forth try). The hettys groused as they got bounced around a bit but didn’t dare say anything by now. Giskard and Daneel were like no robots they’d ever come across before, make no mistake about that. Elijah, affable now, surveyed the row from his comfy seat. “Met your match, haven't you lads? Bad luck and I'm not going to wish you better luck next time either!”.
Finally they landed at the Spaceport that they’d set off from (thank goodness
for a helpful and well-disposed Control). .
“And not even a bump!” Elijah said. “Now we’d better get the police – again!”. He dug out his mobile which could signal the nearest police station – tool of his trade.
“Horrible ungrateful lot” groused Daneel. “Reckon they’re almost as bad as the arseholes they’re supposed to be arresting”.
They called Control and warned them what was happening.“S’OK” Daneel reassured. “They’re all tied up. Like chickens for the roast. Which, in a sense, they should be”.
“Roast in nice cold police cells” said Giskard. “We hope”.
The Police – eventually – came. “Oh it’s you lot again”, meaning Elijah, Daneel and Giskard, not the hettys. Grunting they made an appearance of gatherine up the trussed hettys. “We could arrest you you know for assault”, they said to Giskard, Elijah and Daneel. “However we’ll let you off with a caution - again.”, and they reeled off things about a man’s civil rights (the crimimal’s you mean). “Seeing as there seems to be no actual GBH”.
(Well that’s robots for you, chum, Elijah sourly thought. Robots don’t do GBH and I’ve learned that even if you haven't the brains to!). The police cut away the ropes tying the hettys and handcuffed them instead. They didn't seem particularly rough with them either: well, these were fellow good white manly heteros weren't they, hmm. The master race. As the police drove away in one of their horrible noisy vans Elijah Daneel and Giskard stuck their middle fingers into the air. “And a hex on you too, you miserable bunch of criminal-lovers masquerading as police. I bet those sods get let off with a caution”, and the robots said most unrobotic things about suckers and farts and suchlike, before turning back to business again.
“And now” Giskard sighed. “Up we go again”.
“And let’s hope we didn’t leave the key in the lock this time,” Daneel said.
PREPARING FOR TAKE-OFF
So it began all over again. Take off, orbit, docking, airlock…in they went and got to work programming the robot scoops to take off into deep space to scoop up atomic hydrogen for the fuel. They would need to take one down with them to the shuttle planetside so they could refuel that and then life could return to normal again, let’s hope.
Elijah by now was feasting on rehydrable self-heating rations – one wasn’t a bad curry actually. There was even a beer. And a 70%-chocolate too. Hitech at its very best! These were upmarket rolls royce rations. The robots found some of their flavoured metallo snacks and imbibed on those – Daneel could eat both human and robot ‘food’ if he wished. Their programming had allowed for the ‘enjoyment’ of flavoured snacks which made their pozzies surge, engendering a positive ‘feeling’. Both smoked as well. Elijah had managed to acquire a new pipe on one planet – it was rather fancy and bejewelled, and a dainty little thing, clearly of classic Auroran make but a pipe notheless and with a special baffle which kept the fumes in. Giskard and Daneel smoked with long bejewelled cigarette holders which cleverly caught the ash before it could scatter everywhere – useful when working a console. So all three could indulge in their filthy habits, so gloriously unhealthy and so-o unrobotic. They put on some good music: old Earth rock classics, and set to work. First they telephoned down to SirMadam in his mansion to tell him what was happening.
“Sorry we’ve taken so long,” and explained about the hettys getting into their ship and having to take them back planetside (and the same ungrateful grousing police) before coming back up again and programming the scoops to go off and collect some fuel. They called Control and Tesco to extend the hire of the shuttle. Elijah went off to shower, crap, brush his teeth and to get some sleep, he hadn’t seen his bed for far too long and he was beginning not to make sense any longer. So, as he snored away, the robotic scoops detached themselves from the parent ship and took off; a big one and a smaller ‘portable’ one that they would take down planetside in the hired shuttle in order to refuel their own grounded shuttle. Daneel and Giskard gave the ship’s progamming a good going-over, ironing out bugs and suchlike and defragmenting and generally ‘tidying up’ and upgrading the system before setting coordinates for the next leg of the cruise. They ‘woke’ old Sammy up and reacquainted themselves with him – well why not? They even tried to upgrade him a bit as well and thought they'd managed to give him a bit more initiative. They enrolled on a rigorous educational programme for Sammy, the same one they did with their newly-constructed robots: “Arse-up learning,” a term used for bottom-up learning as opposed to “noddle-down” top-down learning. They were rewarded when Sammy came out vocally with a, “I do believe I’m feeling a lot better and brighter now. As if my positrons do flow more freely and increase my ability to reason and to comprehend.” He got a hug each from Daneel and Giskard which he probably didn’t comprehend exactly. Trying to teach him to play the electric guitar and sing into a microphone wasn’t so successful, however; Sammy hadn’t the capacity to gain cognizance of things like how to handle a complex instrument or move like a rock singer and most certainly hadn’t been fitted with the right vocal accoutrements for anything like singing. He just didn’t comprehend what ‘singing’ was, and trying to fit him with the requisite circuity and data modules didn’t seem to have worked either.
“He just hasn’t got the right connectors to start with,” Daneel said, patting Sammys arm affectionately to show he wasn’t disapproving or anything. “And we can’t possibly find a new positronic brain for him here,”Giskard said. ”We’d need to find a branch of Galactic Robots and Mechanical Beings, or the right outlet - and there ain’t one in this little ole planet”.
Of course this got Sammy asking “Am I of dissatisfaction to you in some way?” and they had to spend ages reassuring him that he wasn’t. They didn’t seem able to teach hin to speak more naturally either. “Perhaps only a human can do that”, so when Elijah eventually surfaced, refreshed, he agreed, when there was more time, to have a go; for as soon as the scoops returned they wanted to go down planetside and return the shuttle, after they’d deposited the portable scoop by their own shuttle parked just outside SirMadam's garden.
The parked shuttle wasn’t entirely being popular right now. Oh not with SirMadam, he was pefectly happy to have it there, but the Local Hunt was moaning a bit; it was sitting on one of their favourite hunt trails and their horses and their hounds didn't like it.
“Well tough!” Daneel, who could never – and never wanted to – comprehend the human love of hunting down a poor timid innocent creature with a horrible pack of crappy baying canines and making pleasure out of tearing it apart. (“All for what? Typical!”). To a robot it was just, for starters, useless and illogical and robots like Daneel and Giskard had short fuses for useless and illogical. Elijah found it completely disgusting and made his views loud, clear and most un-pc. Giskard made a wonderful puking sound and then he and Daneel mimicked the hounds being sick and gagging on their own sick and horses whinnying fit to bust and the braying reconsituted shire accents of the huntsfolk.
They stood in their airlock, and faced the irate Hunt Master, taking a lot of trouble not to lower the ramps completely to the ground in case any hounds got up it. Yelping hounds and other horse riders milled round, gawping at the shuttle and braying away, “Oh I say, isn’t this all frightfuly tedious!” and, “do wish they’d move that bally thing”, and, “good heavens, a bally grey robot!” (which made Giskard doubley ‘vomit’). And then, “I say, do look at that corker!” meaning Daneel who, again wasn’t ‘breasted up’ but was clad in gorgeous patterned harem pants and magenta tie-round top with a bare midriff in between so who was to know better? Daneel gave them all a look of female sublime distain. The Hunt Master yakkered on and the other riders brayed away for so long that in the end Elijah just loudly announced, “Josaphat shat! I’m sick of this!” and the robots applied their ultrasonics until all the hounds starting running away with puzzled aggrieved yelps and then the horses began to do the same until the whole lot were taking to their hooves and paws and legging it, the hapless riders with no choice but to be carried along.
“Bet they’ve left a whole tonnage of crap behind” Giskard said.
“And piddled against our shuttle no doubt,” Daneel added. “ Oh the joy of humanity – present company of one Elijah excepted.”
Well they finally got their own shuttle tanked up once more and poised for flight. They returned the Tesco hired shuttle to the spaceport and bussed back. SirMadam gave them all a slap up lunch of, guess what, prawn curry and sadly they took their leave, promising to stay in touch, and flew back up to the ship (which this time they found without mishap).
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