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Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
400–750
An Honest Trade
"A line segment," the floating metal sphere above her said, its words more a jitter of static than anything else.
"What?" Keeping her ears pricked, Meredith watched the desert slowing down outside the boxcar, the sand all silvery in the light of Goreb's three moons.
"You muttered 'end of the line' in that histrionic tone you adopt on these missions." Botchi slid into her field of vision and spun till the red glow of its tertiary optical sensor was pointing at her. "By definition, a line has no end. Therefore, we must be discussing a line segment."
As much as she wanted to glare at the thing, she didn't look away from the ground. "Whenever I find myself doubting that you mech-types could get more annoying," she said, not bothering to use her 'bitch mercenary' voice this time, "you manage to surprise me."
The robot made a sniffing sound. "Do you want me to tell you that I've contacted our client? Or shall I allow you to continue flailing along?"
"Whatever." She used her growl this time, threw herself out of the braking boxcar, tucked and rolled when her shoulder hit. Trusting the black fur of her Scots Terrier ancestry to hide her, she came up in a crouch, her bolt-blaster clenched in the stubby fingers of one paw.
No shots rang out, though, the night stretching uninterrupted above and the desert doing the same all around.
The pulse of Botchi's grav-lev drive rustled the hair on the back of her neck. "Please," it said. "Just walk for once."
No real cover anywhere for a potential ambush; no warning scents; no sound other than the train coming to a halt on the other side of the sand dune ahead: Meredith sighed, holstered her bolt-blaster, and stood. "Fine."
"Bio-types." With an extravagant electronic sigh, Botchi began moving away through the air.
Following, she came around the dune and saw the largely dismantled town of Peachtree, mech-types pulling the place apart and trundling the pieces into the boxcars. A few optical sensors might've focused on her as she padded past, but she couldn't imagine one canid and one ballbot were going to excite much interest. If there'd been any humans on the site, maybe, but the last human had left Peachtree a week ago. Frontier living wasn't trendy anymore; the former inhabitants were likely halfway to the next star system by now. Nobody seemed interested in putting down roots and learning an honest trade these days. It made Meredith sick sometimes...
The only complete building in town sat halfway along what must've once been the main street. Botchi flew inside when the front door opened, and Meredith was about to do the same when a sniff brought her hackles up.
Human. Unmistakably.
"Come in, Major," Botchi's buzzing voice called. "Meet our client."
All her senses alert, Meredith moved through the plain wooden doorway into a plain wooden hall. Botchi hovered beside a stereotypical butlerbot, a white shirt front and black swallow-tailed coat wrapped around its springsteel barrel. And in the butlerbot's whip-like arms—
Meredith stared. "That's a human baby!"
"Indeed." The butlerbot sounded more human than any human Meredith had ever met. "Miss Amelia was left behind by her nominal parents with the other trappings of frontier life they until recently professed to enjoy. I'm programmed with certain protective functions, and your 'no job too small' motto on the clandestiweb, Canis Major, caught my eye." It held out the baby. "I've hired you to take Miss Amelia to safety."
"Move!" Meredith shouted, clinging to the rope ladder dangling from the belly of the Aberdeen and firing bolts of plasma into the phalanx of thugbots swarming across the rooftop.
"Coming, Mother!" Amelia didn't break stride, leaping off the edge with one hand gripping the bag and the other reaching for the bottom rung of the ladder.
Seeing the kid catch hold, Meredith slapped the control band on her wrist and braced herself.
The Aberdeen accelerated skyward as the explosives she'd planted in Boss Dennigan's HQ went off. The confluence of forces dragging her down and pushing up from below made her feel weightless, and she heard Amelia whooping: "Punch it, Botchi! We've gotta get the crown back to Prince Teodross before the coronation tonight!"
Meredith smiled at Canis Minor hanging safely from the slightly singed ladder. "That's my girl!"
"What?" Keeping her ears pricked, Meredith watched the desert slowing down outside the boxcar, the sand all silvery in the light of Goreb's three moons.
"You muttered 'end of the line' in that histrionic tone you adopt on these missions." Botchi slid into her field of vision and spun till the red glow of its tertiary optical sensor was pointing at her. "By definition, a line has no end. Therefore, we must be discussing a line segment."
As much as she wanted to glare at the thing, she didn't look away from the ground. "Whenever I find myself doubting that you mech-types could get more annoying," she said, not bothering to use her 'bitch mercenary' voice this time, "you manage to surprise me."
The robot made a sniffing sound. "Do you want me to tell you that I've contacted our client? Or shall I allow you to continue flailing along?"
"Whatever." She used her growl this time, threw herself out of the braking boxcar, tucked and rolled when her shoulder hit. Trusting the black fur of her Scots Terrier ancestry to hide her, she came up in a crouch, her bolt-blaster clenched in the stubby fingers of one paw.
No shots rang out, though, the night stretching uninterrupted above and the desert doing the same all around.
The pulse of Botchi's grav-lev drive rustled the hair on the back of her neck. "Please," it said. "Just walk for once."
No real cover anywhere for a potential ambush; no warning scents; no sound other than the train coming to a halt on the other side of the sand dune ahead: Meredith sighed, holstered her bolt-blaster, and stood. "Fine."
"Bio-types." With an extravagant electronic sigh, Botchi began moving away through the air.
Following, she came around the dune and saw the largely dismantled town of Peachtree, mech-types pulling the place apart and trundling the pieces into the boxcars. A few optical sensors might've focused on her as she padded past, but she couldn't imagine one canid and one ballbot were going to excite much interest. If there'd been any humans on the site, maybe, but the last human had left Peachtree a week ago. Frontier living wasn't trendy anymore; the former inhabitants were likely halfway to the next star system by now. Nobody seemed interested in putting down roots and learning an honest trade these days. It made Meredith sick sometimes...
The only complete building in town sat halfway along what must've once been the main street. Botchi flew inside when the front door opened, and Meredith was about to do the same when a sniff brought her hackles up.
Human. Unmistakably.
"Come in, Major," Botchi's buzzing voice called. "Meet our client."
All her senses alert, Meredith moved through the plain wooden doorway into a plain wooden hall. Botchi hovered beside a stereotypical butlerbot, a white shirt front and black swallow-tailed coat wrapped around its springsteel barrel. And in the butlerbot's whip-like arms—
Meredith stared. "That's a human baby!"
"Indeed." The butlerbot sounded more human than any human Meredith had ever met. "Miss Amelia was left behind by her nominal parents with the other trappings of frontier life they until recently professed to enjoy. I'm programmed with certain protective functions, and your 'no job too small' motto on the clandestiweb, Canis Major, caught my eye." It held out the baby. "I've hired you to take Miss Amelia to safety."
"Move!" Meredith shouted, clinging to the rope ladder dangling from the belly of the Aberdeen and firing bolts of plasma into the phalanx of thugbots swarming across the rooftop.
"Coming, Mother!" Amelia didn't break stride, leaping off the edge with one hand gripping the bag and the other reaching for the bottom rung of the ladder.
Seeing the kid catch hold, Meredith slapped the control band on her wrist and braced herself.
The Aberdeen accelerated skyward as the explosives she'd planted in Boss Dennigan's HQ went off. The confluence of forces dragging her down and pushing up from below made her feel weightless, and she heard Amelia whooping: "Punch it, Botchi! We've gotta get the crown back to Prince Teodross before the coronation tonight!"
Meredith smiled at Canis Minor hanging safely from the slightly singed ladder. "That's my girl!"