Battleship Raider by Paul Tomlinson (book recommendations website .txt) 📗

usually referred to by the name of our ship.”

“I’m not calling you Celestia,” I said. “I’m going to call you... L-J or... ‘Little John’, that’s it, you’re Little John.”

“Little John?”

“It’s either that or ‘Scrappy’.”

The robot said something that sounded like humph and walked away. “If you think you’re Robin Hood, you’re kidding yourself,” he said.

“I’ll have you know that I am an accomplished thief who is wanted on more than twenty worlds,” I said, following him over to the pile of crates that we still had to load.

“Fourteen,” the robot said. “I accessed your record while I was in the cockpit. Most of your exploits seem to end like this one.”

“That’s not true,” I protested. “I’ve just had a run of bad luck recently.”

The robot made the humph sound again. “It is true that you have led a colourful life,” he said. I think he knew he’d offended me and was trying to smooth things over.

“Not really,” I said. “I’ve been alive for thirty-two years and I have an ex-husband and an ex-wife. Well, two ex-wives – but the last one I was only married to for three weeks.”

“It took her that long to make up her mind?”

“It’s a complicated story.”

“Offspring?”

“None that I know of.”

The robot picked up the largest of the remaining crates and headed back into the cargo lifter. I lifted one of the smallest crates and followed.

“What about you?” I asked.

“Robots cannot produce children.”

“I mean – tell me about your life.”

“I was brought into service one month before the Celestia was launched – and I have been with her ever since.”

“I admire your loyalty.”

“It is just programming.”

I watched him for a few moments, trying to figure out what it was that was bothering me. “You’re not like any robot I’ve ever met.”

The robot just looked at me blankly.

“You seem more...” I shrugged. “Never mind. Let’s get this job done.”

“We should not hurry to complete the task,” the robot said.

I raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“When their plunder has been loaded into this vessel, you will have no further value to them.”

“They won’t kill me. They’ll take me back with them.”

“As a witness to their crimes?”

“They won’t kill me.” I was less certain the second time I said it.

“As salvage, will I fetch a good price?” the robot asked.

Despite its mismatched parts, the robot was still a valuable find – especially with its high calibre accessories. Military robots were now banned on most inhabited worlds – so they brought a great price on the black market. I explained this to him.

“Then they will take me back with them,” he said. “I would prefer not to be taken.”

“You want my advice?” I said. “Keep up the dumb slave act until they get you back to somewhere half-civilised and then make your escape.”

The robot considered this. “My advice to you would be to escape now before they are ready to leave.”

“I’m sure they won’t kill me,” I said.

Late in the day, all of the pirates came outside – ostensibly for coffee and fresh air. I think there were going a bit stir crazy, having been cooped up inside the battleship all day. I could sympathise with that. The coffee was terrible, but I drank some anyway because it gave me an excuse to stop work. The respite was short-lived.

“Drink up, lads,” Old Jack said. “And then help load some of these boxes on the ship. I want to be away from here before dark.”

Maybe he was afraid of giant bats. Or ghosts.

“Before we go back to work, I have something to say.” This came from the little rat-faced man. He looked around the rest of the group for support, but no one would meet his eye.

“Yes?” Old Jack’s face was expressionless. If I had been Ratty, I would have said ‘Never mind,’ and started loading crates.

“It’s about the shares...” the little man said, less confident than when he had started.

“What about them?”

“I... that is, we... well, we think that it would be only fair if... you know...”

“You think you deserve a bigger share?” Jack asked.

“No!... well, actually, yes – that’s what I think.”

Old Jack drew his pistol and shot the little man in the chest. Ratty fell down dead, a surprised look on his face.

“Anyone else want to renegotiate their contract?” Old Jack asked, brandishing the pistol. “Thought not. Get to work.”

The others tossed away the remains of their coffee and got to their feet.

Old Jack swaggered across the clearing and disappeared back inside the Celestia.

“I accessed Jack Sterling’s record too,” the robot said at a volume that only I could hear. “He is suspected of murdering several former crewmates and he shot a man in cold blood in Margotsville. He was acquitted because the two witnesses to the shooting disappeared.”

I looked up at the robot. “If we wanted to get away, how would we do it?” I asked. If we worked together, I thought we might stand some chance of escaping.

“I will get rid of the others,” the robot said, indicating the remaining four pirates.

“You can’t kill them,” I said, shocked.

“I meant that I would send them away,” the robot said. “On a fool’s errand.”

The pirates looked suitably qualified for the job. I nodded agreement.

The robot circled around the cargo lifter and approached the pirates. “Attention! I have a message for you from your captain.”

The crew members all looked up at the robot, like children looking at their headmaster.

“You are all to proceed to the launch deck of the Celestia for a final briefing before departure back to base.”

“Where’s the launch deck?” one of the twins asked.

“Up there,” Blondie said, pointing.

“Is it telling the truth?” the big man with the hairy arms asked. His name was Dante.

“Robots cannot lie,” Blondie said.

“Why does he want us to go up there?” the other twin asked.

“You are to proceed with all haste,” the robot urged. “It would not do to make him angry again.”

This was enough to get them moving towards the hatch.

“Humans are so stupid,” the robot said quietly. “Present company excepted.”

I