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WHEN THE $H!T HIT THE HETTYS
Nobody had noticed that it was raining quite hard again now, even Elijah and SirMadam. It was Daneel who ran a hand though his sleek dripping locks and looked down at himself and said, “I've got a wet T-shirt on and you know what that means don’t you. I should go onto a Calender and be hung up on the walls of beery Hettys for them to jerk-off to”. Elijah aped a lot of gasping panting sounds and said, “You didn’t know I was one of those did you,” “No”, Daneel said, affecting a bored sighing tone. “Because I’d get too bored by it.”
They returned to the shuttle so that wet clothes could be changed out of and hair dried and they could have something warming to fill their cockles. Leaving ten golden robots to guard the new turves until such time as SirMadam deemed it safe to not guard them any more. SirMadam had plenty more robots to utilize. But whilst they were here on SirMadam’s planet Giskard and Daneel did lots more helpful things like planting loads of bulbs along with beautiful blue pink and white delphiniums and sweet peas and white, yellow, orange and scarlet poppies and multicoloured tulips all from Old Earth stock and building a new garden shed to keep SirMadam's new robot flymo and assembling the new Idea flatpacks and digging out a new goldfish pond and chasing away Hettys and reprogramming SirMadam’s computer and cleaning anything that needed it and showing SirMam how to make Auroran spiced tea with evap, and a slap-up curry (bad for my figure, m’dears!) and how to buy this over the Galactanet and teaching SirMadam all about supra advanced robots (like themselves) and Polari, an ancient dialect spoken by gay men on Earth circa 1960 and all about the 1960s (the naughty bits) and grooming SirMadam’s robot maine coone cats.
The only things they wouldn't do was cutting or deadheading as Daneel had hissy fits if he had to cut anything, which would then upset Giskard and Elijah wasn’t yet very good at telling weeds from weeds let alone from plants that weren't supposed to be weeds. But he adored smelling things. He couldn't get over how lovely nature and outdoors smelled, after being born and bred in the caves of steel with nary a real plant or flower to experience, just horrible human fug. Jess had had artificial flowers of course which Elijah learned was very lower-middle-class suburban and Elijah now wanted to be classy like Daneel - with a bit of slumming thrown in for good measure because that was soooo classy. Far more classy than just being classy. Posh with a sarky wit (only with bad things like Hettys) and a droll humour (with nice things) and a deadpan delivery when telling bad jokes or self-parodying.
A mystery came up. “I used to be a detective” Elijah said. “Nice to get back to work. I know I'm not very good at gardening or housework but I could do detecting.”. One of SirMadam's robot main coons had mysteriously ‘died’. “Oh dear, again,” Daneel sighed. “The amount of times we had to keep solving mysteries of ‘dead’ robots, all over the place but especially back on Earth. No mystery really. Earthlings didn’t like robots so they ‘killed’ them. Full stop. That time on Solaria it was Giskard fooling around with his new mindzapper – stop looking so damm pleased with yourself Gizza! – And on Aurora
“Well, to my mind ’it’s off to work I go-o’”, sang Elijah, and then, seriously, “I reckon we should question a few Hettys. Daneel you go as female of course. This should be a doddle. And, both of you, don’t hesitate to do a few pretzels if necessary”. This was an arm-lock so called because the perpetrators arms sort of ended up looking like a pretzel really when twisted up behind their backs. Simple really. Daneel and Giskard were past masters at ‘roundhouse kicks’, karate chops, tripping up, and dangling too; here they simply held the baddie by both wrists in one hand and held them aloft for as long as necessary.
Giskard and Daneel could do all sorts of moves that didn’t actually involve hitting the baddie (violation of First Law) – or even really badly hurting them either, though, as a last resort if strictly necessary, they were sophisticated enough to do this a bit too. And of course they could deflect any blows by a mere flick of their arms. And were way sophisticated enough too to deduce that if their attacker got hurt trying to hit them well that was too bloody bad!. A simpler robot would go and ‘take the blame’ and often seize up if an attacker hurt themselves trying to hit them because then a human would've got hurt - even if they’d chosen to throw that punch. But hey, not old Daneel and Giskard, no very much no indeedy!
When females were involved it was most handy to have Daneel as female too as nobody could make a case against a female manhandling another female. Also both sexes seemed less reluctant to be interviewed if a female was present – and many women anyway appreciate a beautiful woman as much as any man.
Oh another thing Giskard and Daneel were brilliant at was zapping off hostile or annoying dogs. Both robots had inbuilt ultrasonics and could focus this into a long-range narrow beam if necessary and this would really really bother the troublesome dog who would then usually turn tail and flee! Full stop. It was even effective on deaf dogs and real troublesome canine bastards like ‘pits’ - pit bulls, and ‘rotties’ - rottweilers. Again, if strictly necessary, the robots could just intensify the beam till the animal dropped dead – useful with persistants like the above mentioned bastards.
This came in useful when running Hettys to ground. The most macho Hettys of course adore horrible dogs like pits and rotties and surrounded themselves with these to, well, look tough. For one of their many dog fighting sessions they had tried to steal some of SirMadams main coons, not realising these were robots too. If these were forceably taken beyond a certain point they ‘died’ on you. Though SirMadam came down next morning to find a few purposefully butchered ‘carcases’ of his main coons, strewn around the garden and terrace, with their ‘innards’ hanging out and nails stuck in thie eyes and where their privates would be and suchlike and their tails cut off and some has been set on fire so they were all melted and singed and other such delights.. One had even been crucified against the rose trellis. There were horrible notes scrawled in thick indelible felt tip ‘We hate Cats’ and ‘Cat lovers go screw yourselves’ and ‘We are Dog people and We hate Cat people’ and ‘Dog eat Cat’ and so on. There was even piles of dog mess deposited on SirMadam’s terrace.
“Sick!” the cat-loving Elijah said, even though they hadn’t been real cats. Giskard and Daneel, who’d learned to love cats too, said they felt their pozzies fizz, a sign of revulsion. “Yuk! Well they’d thought these were real cats”, Daneel surmised. “So it would’t have made any difference. People like that always hate cats, so it all ties in”.
“No” Elijah grimaced. “It wouldn’t have made any difference. I remember hearing that cats were the second most unpopular anaimal after the rat. Telling, huh?”
“Tonight”, Giskard said, “Daneel and I and any other robots capeable of putting up a proper resistance will lie in wait and see if any Hettys turn up tonight. Then we’ll corall them until they can be questioned. And their dogs…? Oh, if necessary, we’ll threaten to zap those if they don’t behave – probably have to do in a few as an example - but hey that’s no sweat”.
Elijah was looking upset. “I don’t want you getting hur— well, damaged! Will your Laws really be up to putting up a fight against these humans? What if they give you Orders? What if they’re armed….? Josaphat shat, wish I had my blaster still!”
SirMadam spoke up here. He’d been trying not to puke. “I have an old blaster. An antique but as far as I know it still works. I’ll get it”.
“We’ll get this crap – literally! – cleared up”, Daneel said pulling a putrid face. And then, his eye glinted. “Hey hey hey. Ho-ow about we – well we dump it right back on the Hettys and their dear little pooches!”.
Elijah gave a shout of gleeful laughter. “Oh boy! Jehosaphat! Mega! What an idea. But, keep‘em away from me whilst I’m grilling them, won’t you. They’ll pong a bit methinks”.
“It’ll be completely disgusting,” Daneel grinned. “But we’ll thoroughly hose them down afterwards – we can get one of the hosing cleanerbots at the ready, on full-pressure.”
“I imagine,” Giskard said to SirMadam, “that you do not want this shit put in your compost afterwards…? No, I thought not. So, are we free to dump…? Yey thought so too”.
“We’ll clear up any mess afterwards”, Daneel reassured.
“You are kind”, SirMadam said. “Nothing like a kind robot is there”.
“No”, agreed Elijah.
“I’ll fetch the blaster and you can have a look at it”. SirMadam went off to do this. Soon he returned with a gorgeous bejewelled-looking weapon – circa 3000AD. Elijah admired it – it was an Auroran model, famous for their decorations. And, after he had charged up its powercell, it also worked. Elijah tried it out on a patch of ground outside. “Brilliant!”.
That night, they all dressed in dark clothes, even Giskard and the other metallos. They had shovelled the dogshit into flimsy plastic bags that they attached to catapults that they’d made themselves – Aurorans love a bit of catapulting and archery and are ace at these sporting arts and Giskard and Daneel were master catapult makers (and users). That night some Hettys got a very nasty – and very smelly - shock indeed! They yelled and swore a lot and their dogs barked and yelped and snarled a lot and they all got very messy. And, yes, the robots could see the very funny side of this too!
Giskard and Daneel next got the hosing cleanerbot into position, set up to top notch, and a huge jet of icy cold water gushed mercilessly out. Some of the metallos cornered them off so they couldn’t escape and so the now dripping-wet and shivering suspects were coralled neatly in and any dog that tried to bite was stunned by a karate chop from a robot and was tied firmly up. Others were zapped. A few got polished off though (par for the course). When every pitt and rottie was thus curtailed the robots, including Daneel and Giskard, surrounded the equally snarling human males.
Elijah had been made, by Daneel and Giskard, to stay out of reach on the wall until every dog was tied up (or bumped off) and every human subdued. He now brandished the blaster. Daneel and Giskard memorized each man’s face. “I now know who each of you are”, Elijah, at his most glowering, said forcefully. “So it’s no good trying to get out of this. You’ve all got shit on your faces now. Literally. Har har. And my two robots can read your minds so no good wiggling out of that either” – there was gasps of horror from the men – “So - reckon you’ve heard of cerobroanalysers…? Yes, thought so.” Giskard and Daneel stared hard at the men, flinty and uncompromising, Giskards green eyes glowing feistily. They would get a tri-di imaging of each man’s mind, testifying as to his guilt or not. Elijah asked a single question as to the men’s whereabouts last night and that was it. They even dangled the butchered ‘carcases’ as further bait. Seemed like the men (and no doubt the dogs too) were most pissed off to discover they were only robotic cats – no blood, no gore, no anguish. No fun. No point.
“Oh, did-dums”, said Daneel understatedly. “Didn’t get your little bit of fun did you.What a shame”.
“I am postrated with grief for you”, Giskard added, deadpan. “I mean this is harm for humans. Not having their fun. Sticking nails into eyes. Slashing their flesh. Kicking their bones. Setting them on fire…. Uh, have I missed anything…?”
“Well, apart from mashing in their gooleys, no”, Daneel said. Hands in pockets he ambled by one large man who scowled very meanly at him and spat. Daneel looked back and slightly raised his sable-dark brows. “Touch a nerve there did I, good sir”. Daneel inclined his head.“I may be only a robot,” he went on, with ominous affability, “but I am quite sophisticated enough to, as a last resort, hurt you and any of your cohorts. I have been known to break the odd bone. Geddit”. The man did.
Daneel moved past the next meanest looking one and then suddenly raised his voice and asked rhetorically and most conversationally, his resonant gender-pivotal contralto so compellingly listenable to, un-ignorable and most wonderfully carrying: “I’m fascinated so tell me: why do you do it? Is the shit so bad that you got to shit on everyone and everything. Are your houses smaller than this one? Don’t you have two cars each? Are your TV sets last year’s model instead of this year’s? Are your robots playing up? Don’t your dogs bite enough people or crap on enough pavements? Or - are you just bo-ored….” He waited. “Uh, I rather suspect the last, you know”. Daneel had read up enough knowledge of this planet by now to know that have-nots there were none: even the ‘poorest’ people had detached owned houses with gardens down leafy avenues and a bedroom each and all mod-cons and could send their kids to private school and afford a car each and at least two widescreen HoloTV sets and of course a home computer each with the fastest broadband etc etc. SirMadam said, it just seemed some people just couldn’t countenence anyone having more than themselves. Or that some people had different ways of seeing things.
“Why bother suspecting” Giskard put in. “When there are their little minds – and their little thoughts - clear as clear can be for us to read”. Neither Daneel or Giskard could, in fact, actually read thoughts but it didn’t harm to give this impression. (Oh how human you can be, Giskard!) Indeed some of the Hetty thugs looked discomforted and shifted restlessly.
“I think” Elijah said, still holding the blaster, “that we have our culprits, right?”
They did. So, “I Order you to guard these men”, Elijah said commandingly to the golden robots who at least seemed capeable of prioritizing orders. Just in case, Elijah continued, “And – I Order you to not obey any one else’s orders apart from mine”, and then went through the repeating routine again to make sure these robots had got it. Meanwhule those of the tied up dogs, who had recovered or were still alive, were making the usuall godawful noise that dogs can make just for the hell of it. One or two of them had already crapped. “Crap your hearts out”, Giskard said. “See what we care”.
Well eventually the police, such as they were, deigned to turn up. In horrible noisy vans. “Be very glad,” Daneel said to the Hettys, “that you will be in Police hands rather than ours. Compared to us the Police are little fluffy socialist bunnies and have every sympathy for the criminal. And bugger the victim”. (Oh how human you too have become Daneel!) Boredly the Police deigned to take the culpits off and also the dogs who, hopefully,would be put down under the Dangerous Dogs act - if there was one on this planet. The police didn’t seem terribly appreciative of the robots’ exemplary efforts in getting these thugs apprehended; no doubt these thugs would be out of prison within a pretty short time, it was just boring old routine stuff for the Police: making the odd arrest in order to tick boxes on assessment forms.
“Well don’t look so enthusiastic”, Daneel murmured sarkily. “I mean to say, there’s overdoing it and overdoing it”. He gestured and rolled his eyes.
“Hey don’t mention it, fellas” Elijah said a bit more loudly. “It was nothing”. It had been, really. Wonderful things cerebroanalysers. “Phooey, who needs Police!”, he said as the Police departed in their clunky old vans. “And phooey who needs smelly old buckets like that. Internal combustion engine and slam-doors! I ask you!”
SirMadam appeared from behind the gates. “Oh you are wonderful” he enthused, and then grimaced. “I could hear those horrible vans from back here! Were they ghastly - the Police I mean? Don't need to be told that the Hettys were of course. But the Police! Notorious for their lack of appreciation – more likely to arrest you just for being there. Whereas criminals get all the cushy treatment”.
“Same old story” Elijah said. “Criminals have to have civil rights too, you see. And they’re ‘deprived’. Whereas we’re ‘privileged’. Too many liberals at large and on the loose”.
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