A Fistful of Trouble (Outlaws of the Galaxy Book 2) by Paul Tomlinson (books on motivation TXT) 📗

“Oh, that. Yeah.”

“Buy me dinner and I’ll let you play with my Johnson.”

It’s not often that a woman says that to you. I followed her out.

Chapter Eleven

Horace scowled at us when we came down the stairs. He’d probably been tipped off about the trouble that was brewing. Or maybe it was just Harmony’s unpaid bill. She smiled sweetly at him but it was obvious that even her considerable charms had their limits.

“Do you think they can squeeze us in?” Harmony asked.

Only three tables were occupied in the dining room. Word had obviously gotten around. There were maybe a dozen patrons in total, most of them men.

“We could just order take-out,” I said.

“Don’t be silly.” Harmony took my arm and led me to an empty table. “We won’t sit in the window – we’d be too easy a target.”

“At least we won’t have to wait long for service,” I muttered.

The people at the other tables were watching us out of the corners of their eyes. There wasn’t much conversation. I realised that they were here for the show. They’d been promised a fight and had taken ringside seats. This was probably the most exciting thing to hit Cicada City since Timmy Mullins third birthday party. I was beginning to lose my appetite. Harmony had no such problems. When her ‘steak with all the trimmings’ arrived the plate covered more than half our table. I had a dish of chili.

“The plates don’t match,” I said. I ran my finger over the chip in my side plate.

“They’ve hidden the good china,” Harmony said. She was tucking into her food and there was a smear of grease on her chin.

“The piano’s gone too,” I said. “Do you think they’ll open fire in here?”

“Maybe.” The thought didn’t seem to bother her.

Casey came in just as we were finishing the main course. The already quiet room fell silent.

I had expected to see the Colonel’s stooges. Deke, the one with the squint, and a couple of other clowns. But I had underestimated the Colonel. He had decided to make much more of an impression with tonight’s gang. He wanted me to see how he ran his town. Behind Casey were three dull grey robots. They each stood a head taller than their human escort.

The robots were all painted with the same glossy grey paint. It gave them a sort of military air and also made them appear to belong to a single unit. But the machines weren’t all the same type. There were subtle differences between them, things the paint couldn’t disguise. The shape of the head, the positioning of the eyes, things like that. They were also far from being the latest models. They weren’t as old as Danny’s collection of has-beens, but they were definitely reconditioned.

“Security robots,” Harmony hissed. “I hate them.”

Like me, she must have run across similar machines in previous adventures. Occupational hazard.

“They don’t have guns,” I said. This was the good news. The bad news was that each of the robots carried an old-fashioned wooden baseball bat. This suggested that the Colonel had given orders for broken bones but no corpses. If they killed me, they might never find Floyd. My personal preference was to stay alive and keep my limbs intact.

“Tactics?” Harmony asked.

“Stay out of the way of the bats,” I said. “And no killing.”

She looked at me as if I was crazy but then shrugged. “It’s your fight,” she said.

Casey walked towards us. Every eye in the place was on him. He was wearing spurs that made a sort of ringing sound when he walked. It must be awkward driving with them on your boots. He pulled a chair over and set it down with the back against our tabletop. He sat down, straddling the chair and leaned his crossed arms on the back.

“Sun’s gone down,” he said.

“Wasn’t it beautiful?” I said. “Orange and red – like the clouds were on fire.”

“You must be dumber than you look,” Casey said.

“Appearances can be deceptive,” I said, staring into his icy blue eyes.

“I don’t see the robot,” he said.

“I don’t see the money.”

Casey stared at me some more. He stuck his fingers into his back pocket and pulled out a wad of banknotes. He dropped them on the table. I didn’t reach for them.

“You said three thousand dollars to buy the robot before sundown,” I said. “You missed your chance.”

“Don’t scrack with me,” Casey warned.

“Take the Colonel’s money and tell him to shove it,” I said. “If he wants to buy my robot, he can come down to the marketplace and bid on it tomorrow. Sale’s at noon.”

“Big mistake,” Casey said.

“They’re the only kind worth making.”

“Last chance.” He stared into my eyes and I stared back. My cousin would have been proud of me. I shook my head very slightly. Without breaking eye contact, Casey reached out with his pale slim fingers and retrieved the three thousand dollars. I was sorry to see it go.

“You’re probably thinking you can take out three robots,” Casey said.

I shook my head again. “I’m thinking she can take out three robots.” I nodded towards Harmony. “And I can take you out.”

There was a brief flicker of surprise on Casey’s face and then he bared his teeth in a smile. There wasn’t a lot of warmth in it. He curled finger and thumb and put them into his mouth, whistled sharply.

The door swung open and three more mismatched grey robots entered.

“Seven against two,” Casey said.

“That’s more like it,” I said. A trickle of sweat ran down my spine and I had to force myself not to shiver. Harmony sat tensely beside me. Her right hand was below the table. She was probably fondling her Johnson.

“No killing,” I reminded her.

Casey looked from me to Harmony and back. He wasn’t smiling now. He was probably used to people swazzing their pants at this point.

“Did you want to order dessert?” Harmony asked me. “Or we could just go up to my room. I have a box of chocolates.”

“I don’t