Drifter's Run (17 page)

"Put the patient on the table please."

Lando did as he was told. His heart leapt into his throat. Here, under good light, Dee looked terrible. Her face, her neck, everything was covered with blood.

"Let's have a look."

Lando turned and found himself face-to-face with an android. She was beautiful. Long dark hair framed a perfect face and reached down to touch the top of her white lab coat.

But her beauty had the hard, stiff quality of a fashion mannequin. Not because science couldn't
do
better, but because they didn't
want
to. Otherwise robots might pass for people, and that could lead to all sorts of problems. Yes, there was no mistaking the stiff features, the shininess of her skin, or the subtle whir of servos when she moved.

"Don't be alarmed," the android said reassuringly. "Though not considered adequate for the more creative and innovative aspects of medicine, my skills are sufficient for the task at hand. Your companion will be fine."

So saying the robot moved in, ran gentle hands up and down Dee's body, and went to work.

For the next hour or so Lando watched as the android cleaned, stitched, and bandaged. Although Dee's body armor had absorbed the worst of the shotgun blast she had wounds in her neck, shoulders, and upper arms.

In addition to patching up the holes in Dee's body the doctor gave her a blood volume expander laced with vitamins.

At one point she came to, tried to sit up, and passed out when the doctor slapped an injector against her arm.

Finally it was over and the android went over to sterilize her hands in some boiling water. "Your friend will be fine. She needs plenty of rest and some antibiotics that I will provide before you leave. Do you have any money?"

Lando nodded.

"Good. You will pay me two hundred credits. My fee is twice what the same services would cost at a public hospital but privacy has a price."

Lando counted the money onto a countertop. "There you go. One question…"

"Who am I? And what am I doing here?" the android asked drying her hands under a blower. "Would you answer those same questions?"

Lando smiled and shook his head.

"Then neither will I," the robot replied gently. But then, just as she passed him, the light hit her face just so and Lando saw the faint outlines of something on her forehead. Something that looked remarkably like a logo for a huge conglomerate called Intersystems Incorporated. A logo that had been chemically erased.

A runaway robot! Lando had heard of such creatures but never met one. Some said they were sentient just like people, but no one knew for sure. No one who'd say anyhow.

A few minutes later Lando had some antibiotics in one pocket, Dee's money in another, and her unconscious form over his left shoulder. The gun was in his right hand as he stepped out the door.

The boy was waiting, and a short walk away, so was a taxi. Lando peeled off some more bills, stuffed them into a grubby little hand, and eased Dee into the car. She moaned a little, mumbled something, and lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Like all its kin the auto cab took little notice of its passengers, happy to learn where they were going, and take them there.

The cab rolled through the gates of the spaceport a few minutes later, and at Lando's request pulled up to a public com booth. Now to answer the big question. Had Sorenson simply deserted them? Or was there some other explanation?

It took twenty-four seconds for Lando's call to route through a comsat and onto
Junk
's
bridge. It was Cap who answered.

"Lando? Is that you? Cy said they took you away somewhere. You'd better get your worthless ass up here! You've got some answering to do!"

Lando smiled. "Yes, sir. I'm on my way."

12

Lando entered the cabin, put the tray on the shelf next to Dee's bunk, and flopped into a chair.

Dee made no response. Her eyes were closed and only the steady rise and fall of her chest indicated that she was alive.

Lando hooked a leg over the arm of the chair. "Cut the crap, Della. About ten minutes ago you were up and around looking for your slug gun."

One eye flew open and glared in his direction. It was very green. "How did you know that?"

Lando pointed up toward the ceiling. "Because shortly after I brought you aboard Cy put a vid pickup on the overhead."

The other eye opened. "You spied on me!"

"We watched to make sure you were okay," Lando countered. "Sorry… but we're short on nurses."

Dee sat upright in bed. It hurt but she was too angry to care. "I didn't have any clothes on!"

Lando grinned. "Not true. You had that shirt on. A shirt that happens to be mine by the way."

"But that's all I had on!"

"Now that's true," Lando agreed thoughtfully, "but you should think of me as your doctor."

"My doctor? My doctor?" Dee demanded. "Think of a common criminal as my doctor? No way!"

Lando shrugged. "Have it your way. How're you feeling?"

Dee fell back in bed and turned toward the bulkhead.

Lando got up and headed toward the door. He was halfway through when she spoke.

"Pik…"

He turned around. "Yeah?" "Thanks for taking care of me." Lando smiled. "I was happy to do it."

Up on
Junk
's
bridge Melissa pushed a button. She made a face as the vid screen faded to black. "'Thanks for taking care of me.' Oh, think nothing of it, darling, I was happy to do it. Ugh! Absolutely disgusting!" And with that she stomped off the bridge.

Lando knocked on Cap's open door. "You wanted to see me?"

Cap looked up and scowled. Lando saw that while Sorenson hadn't shaved for two days he was reasonably sober. As usual his office was a mess with junk all over the place and a half-empty plate of food by his elbow.

"Yeah, I wanted to see you. You've been avoiding me."

Lando nodded. "True enough. For some strange reason I thought you'd be angry with me."

"Angry with you?" Cap asked sarcastically. "Angry with the man who took my daughter dirtside without permission, dragged her into a gambling den, and got her arrested? Angry? Why would I be angry?"

Lando held up his hands defensively. "Okay, I accept what you're saying. I was wrong to take Melissa dirtside."

"Wrong?" Cap demanded, leaning forward in his chair. "'Wrong' isn't strong enough. How 'bout stupid? Or criminally insane?

"You knew Cy had a gambling habit, you knew Willer was out there somewhere, you knew about the price on your head… I'd say you were something more than 'wrong.'"

Lando's eyes grew narrow. "Why you sanctimonious old bastard. Where the hell were you when Cy and Melissa wanted to go dirtside? I'll tell you where you were, lying unconscious on your bunk, that's where! Melissa is
your
daughter. You want to take care of her? Fine. Stay sober."

Cap's face turned absolutely white. For one long moment both men stared at each other. It was Cap who broke and looked down at the surface of his desk. His voice sounded small.

"You're right of course. I know it doesn't mean much, but I haven't had a drink since I went to pick her up."

Lando cleared his throat. "It
could
mean something, Cap. It could be a start if you want it to be."

"Yeah," Cap said, looking up and into Lando's eyes. "I guess it could. I've read books about it you know. They say to 'take it one day at a time.'"

Lando nodded. "You could make one little girl extremely happy. And speaking of her, where was she? They split us up early on. Cy and I were worried."

The color returned to Cap's face as he leaned back in his chair. "They took her to some sort of juvenile facility. For a while there I thought I'd have a hard time getting her out, but when I blamed everything on you they released her right away."

Lando grimaced. "Thanks a lot."

"Think nothing of it," Cap replied cheerfully. "Now, Cy was something else again. It turned out that our little friend had gambling debts totaling a quarter million."

"A quarter-million credits?"

"Yup, two hundred and fifty thousand big ones. It took every bit of
your
gold,
my
gold, and the proceeds from the sale of the speedster to pay them off."

"Wait a minute! My gold was hidden!"

"Of course," Cap replied smugly. "But this is
my
ship, remember? I helped build it. It didn't take long to open the ventilation duct, find the gold, and put the screen back in place."

"Why you old…"

"Hold on," Cap admonished. "Cy promises to pay us back. Even if he has to stay on my payroll for the next hundred and forty years. Besides, you shouldn't say unpleasant things about the man who lets you bring bounty hunters home, and pays for burned-out rental cars."

"You paid for the rental car?"

Cap nodded. "I had to. Otherwise they were coming up here to take
you
and
your
bounty hunter into custody."

Lando remembered the firefight and the bullets flying every which way. "Thanks, Cap. I'm sorry about the speedster. I know you liked it. When Cy pays me I'll pay you. Or Della will."

Cap gave a grunt. "Thanks. I won't hold my breath. Let's just finish the contract. It's only a matter of time until Willer comes after us again."

Lando stood up. Cap was right. Willer wanted him dead. As for Cap, well, when it came to the
Star of Empire,
both men were slightly deranged and Willer most of all. He wanted the ship first and Cap second. Were it otherwise Willer could've killed Sorenson a dozen times over. No, he had some sort of crazy fantasy in which Cap would lead him to the ship, the ship that took his body.

"Right. I'll get to work."

"Not so fast," Cap replied. "Take a look at this." He held up a fax.

Lando took it. The fax bore an official-looking seal and was addressed to Cap:

Dear Captain Sorenson,

Regarding the disposition of item D-878 presently occupying OL-18: We are well acquainted with the fact that said item is occupied by unauthorized beings.

However, this fact in no way relieves you or your crew of responsibility for the fulfillment of your contract, and falls within the purview of page sixty-seven, paragraph two, which clearly states "… that the contractor shall bear full and complete responsibility for dealing with any and all life forms dwelling in and around such orbital debris during the life of the contract."

With that in mind, we remind you that final payment is conditional upon meeting the agreed-upon deadline, and that your time is nearly up.

Should you dispute the content of this letter please feel free to appeal our decision. Judging by our current caseload your appeal should be heard in six or seven months.

Sincerely yours,
Carolyn Baxter
Secretary,
Orbital Commission
Planet of Pylax

Lando handed the letter back. "I don't get it. What 'life forms'? And what is item D-878?"

“It's an old habitat,” Cap answered sourly, “I cam across it while you were off playingcops and robbers with Lieutenant Itek.

“As I understand it 878 was originally constructed as a small-scale zero-G biological lab. The company that built it went broke, it passed through various hands, and was ultimately abandoned”.

“So?”

“So it's too damned big to recycle as is. According to the terms of our contract, we're supposed to break it down into smaller pieces, and that would kill the people living aboard.”

Lando raised and eyebrow. “How many people? And how do they survive?”

“Just two,” Sorenson replied, “ and as for the second part, well, I guess they just sort of scrounge for a living. You know, search for useful debris, steal whatever they can, and so forth.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

Cap shrugged. “You read the letter. It's up to us. Either we get rid of them, or we don't get paid. Go over there and evict ‘em.”

Lando narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why me? Why didn't you evict them yourself?”

Sorenson slammed his fist down on the table. It made everything. “Because I'm the captain, damn it! Because I own this ship and you don't!”

“Okay, okay,” Lando said, moving toward the door. “Don't get yourself in an uproar. Item 878 in OL-18. It's as good as done. See you later.”

Lando fired the tender's retros and waited for the ship to match speed with D-878. It certainly wasn't much to look at. A couple of side-by-side cylinders, a long section of grid work that ran at right angles to them, and a mismatched set of solar panels. Cap was right, the damned thing was too big to recycle, and would have to come apart. The sudden squawk of the standard ship-to-ship frequency startled him. The voice was male.

“You there…I don't know who you are, or what the hell you're up to, you'd better get away while the gettin's good.

I have a Nergelon 500 energy cannon aimed your way. One false move and you're free metal."

Lando eyed the habitat's solar panels and checked the tender's sensors. The panels wouldn't generate enough power for a Nergelon 500, and judging from the habitat's heat signature, neither would the small on-board fusion plant. The voice was bluffing.

"All I want is a little conversation," Lando replied. "I'll suit-up and drop over for a visit."

"Don't do that!" the voice replied tersely. "Not unless you want to boil inside your suit!"

"I guess I'll just have to take that chance," Lando replied dryly, and put the tender on standby.

Twenty minutes later Lando was inside his suit and jetting toward the habitat. The suit still smelled like the bottom of a Class IV garbage scow. Lando tried to breathe through his mouth.

D-878 was closer now, close enough to see the main lock, and that's where Lando headed. He was about a hundred yards away when he heard the voice again. This time over his suit radio.

"Okay, I couldn't bring myself to use the energy cannon, but if you board I'll put a blaster bolt through your faceplate!"

"That sounds real messy," Lando replied calmly, "and completely unnecessary. Why not talk instead? That's all I want."