Mechanical Failure (8 page)

“Oh, hell no,” he said, and tossed the toothbrush under the bed with the poster.

Boring. He felt like he wanted to lie down in the middle of
his room and die. This wasn't part of the bargain at all. And it still felt wrong. There was something missing in the room that he couldn't quite place. Obviously, all the modifications he'd made to his sergeants' quarters for hiding alcohol, weighted dice, and other contraband were missing, but he'd remedy that soon enough. There was something else.

Then he noticed the time on the small clock on his desk. It was 12:41 PM ship time. The beer light should have been on for forty-one minutes.

Rogers spun around, panicked. It wasn't here.
It wasn't here.
The beer light was
gone
.

Just as he was about to have a breakdown and start throwing furniture, a knock came at his door.

“Open up,” came a voice. “It's time for your inspection!”

I
. Not eyeglasses, though there
was
one portrait of General Nelson Rockshaft holding a stylish pair of lenses. He had become famous for removing said glasses while observing tactical displays, resulting in strategic maneuvers that were almost always unpredictable and almost certainly ineffective.

It was a testament to his mental state (or the recent powerful blow to the head) that it took several seconds for Rogers to realize he was trying to climb into a painting and not out a window into open space. The picture fell to the floor, the extinct Jupiter landing facedown.

“Well, that'll be a demerit,” a voice came from behind him.

Turning around, fists balled, Rogers found not one but two members of the Standardization and Evaluation squadron aboard the
Flagship
. One of them, of course, was a droid. Carrying a clipboard. Wearing white gloves.

The other was a lean, full-cheeked sergeant with a uniform tailored so tightly around his body that it looked more like an elaborate tattoo than clothing. Aircraft could have landed on the airstrip of hair that was on the top of his head, closely buzzed on either side. His buttons and medals had been blindingly polished to the point where they could have been used as independent sources of illumination. In short, he looked like a major tool.

“What's this all about?”
Rogers asked.

“C
ALL FUNCTION
[
TIRELESSLY REPEAT SIMPLE INSTRUCTIONS
].
TARGET
[E
NSIGN
R
OGERS
]” the droid said, “O
UTPUT STRING: YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED FOR A
M
ORALE
, H
EALTH, AND
W
ELFARE INSPECTION
. A
LL PERSONNEL ARE SUBJECT TO
MHW
INSPECTIONS TO BE CONDUCTED BY
S
TANDARDIZATION AND
E
VALUATION
—”

“Yeah, great,” Rogers said. “Whatever. But I just got here.”

“Then you shouldn't have anything to worry about,” the sergeant said.

“Look, sergeant, uh . . . ” Rogers peered at his name tag. “Sergeant Stract. Really?”

“I was born to be Stan/Eval,” the sergeant said with the utmost seriousness.

“Right,” Rogers said. “And I was born to acknowledge radio transmissions. I've been in the service a long time. Inspections don't really happen in this fleet.”

“C
ALL FUNCTION
[
REPETITION AND ASSURANCE
],” the droid said—boy, this one was a talker—”O
UTPUT STRING: INSPECTIONS HAPPEN ACCORDING TO A REGULAR AND REGIMENTED SCHEDULE TO WHICH ALL PERSONNEL MUST ADHERE
.”

Rogers looked at Sergeant Stract. “Do you always let droids do your talking for you?”

The sergeant frowned. “Insults aren't going to help you much, sir. Now, if you'll please stand at attention in the center of your room, we can conduct the inspection.”

“Yeah, I'm not really into standing at attention, either,” Rogers said. “Look, I'll just sign the bottom of your sheet, and you can mark everything as acceptable, and we can both get on with our day.”

“C
ALL FUNCTION
[
PERFORM PRIMARY DUTY
]. O
UTPUT STRING:
R
EFUSAL TO ABIDE BY MILITARY PROTOCOL
,” the droid said. “O
NE DEMERIT WILL BE AWARDED
.”

Back in Rogers' day, a “demerit” was a penalty in a drinking
game that necessitated a shot of alcohol. Somehow, he didn't think that's what the droid was talking about.

“C
ALL FUNCTION [ISSUE ORDER]. TARGET [SERGEANT STRACT]
,” the droid said. “A
SSUME CONTROL OF THE RECORDS
.”

“Wait,” Rogers said. “The droid is
leading
the inspection?”

The sergeant snapped to attention and grabbed the clipboard like a rifle with a resounding
crack
.

“I have assumed control of the records, sir!”

“Did you just call that droid
sir
?”

The sergeant glared at Rogers. “As you don't seem to be familiar with military protocol,
sir
, I will explain that it is customary for us to address those who outrank us by sir or ma'am.”

Rogers stared, dumbstruck, at Sergeant Stract as the droid began walking around the room, its metallic legs clanking against the pseudo-wood floor of the officer stateroom. Stract followed the machine in lockstep, duck-walking in the ridiculous fashion that someone, somewhere along the line had decided looked “official.” Had Stract been wearing a black-and-white outfit, Rogers would have confused him with a penguin.

“No,” Rogers said. “No, absolutely not. There's no way this droid has a rank.”

“C
ALL FUNCTION
[
DECLARE IDENTITY
]. O
UTPUT STRING:
I
AM
C
YBERMAN
F
IRST
C
LASS
A-155. C
ALL FUNCTION
[
SMUGLY CITE REGULATION
]. I
N ACCORDANCE WITH THE
M
ERIDAN
R
ANK AND
O
RGANIZATION
R
EGULATION
MR-613, I
AM SUPERIOR TO ALL ENLISTED PERSONNEL RANKED
E-5
AND BELOW
. S
ERGEANT
S
TRACT'S RANK OF SERGEANT IS
E-5
IN THE
M
ERIDAN
G
ALACTIC
N
AVY
.”

“Absolutely, sir,” the sergeant said, nodding. “An excellent reference to the regulations.”

“Do the regulations say you're supposed to kiss his ass, too?” Rogers asked. “How do you even know it's a sir and not a ma'am? Does it have an extra pair of turbines between its legs?”

Sergeant Stract didn't seem to find that amusing, though he
declined to comment. The droid wiped a gloved hand over the edge of Rogers' bed frame and brought it up to its face.

“C
ALL FUNCTION
[
PERFORM PRIMARY DUTY
]. D
UST PRESENT ON BED
. O
NE DEMERIT WILL BE AWARDED
.”

“What?” Rogers blurted. “I just got here! How was I supposed to dust everything?” He shook his head, as if to rattle the absurdity out of it. “Why should I even bother dusting at all? The Meridan Fleet doesn't
dust  
!”

“C
ALL FUNCTION
[
PERFORM PRIMARY DUTY
]. W
ARDROBE NOT ARRAYED IN PROPER ORDER
. O
NE DEMERIT WILL BE AWARDED
.”

“I didn't even put that stuff in there! Give a demerit to Suresh in Supply!”

“C
ALL FUNCTION
[
PERFORM PRIMARY DUTY
]. D
ESK CHAIR WHEELS IMPROPERLY ROTATED
. O
NE DEMERIT WILL BE AWARDED
.”

“What does that even mean?”

Sergeant Stract was scratching away on the archaic note-taking device with a pencil and following the droid as it made its rounds.

“This is stupid,” Rogers said. “This is really, really stupid.”

The droid came to the spot on the wall where the propaganda poster had been and paused, its long, horse-like head scanning over the empty spot.

“C
ALL FUNCTION
[
PERFORM PRIMARY DUTY
]. O
UTPUT STRING:
I
NSUFFICIENT MORALE
. O
NE DEMERIT WILL BE AWARDED
.”

Sergeant Stract made a mark on the clipboard, and Rogers was about to break it over his head. All of the events of the past week were building up inside of him to the point of overflow; he found himself fantasizing about visiting tremendous violence on inanimate objects and various people he'd met since he'd come aboard the
Flagship.
It pushed him to the brink. It made him want to chew off the droid's arm.

Then he broke and did something that no self-respecting military man ever did. He pulled rank.

“Sergeant Stract,” Rogers said, “as your superior officer, I
order
you to put that damn thing away and get the hell out of my room.”

Both the droid and the sergeant froze where they stood. Rogers grinned. He had them!

“But,” the sergeant said.

“No buts,” Rogers said, moving to stand in front of Sergeant Stract. “Get out. Right now. And never come back.”

Sergeant Stract's left leg twitched, as if to move. Rogers took a deep breath to bark the order a second time.

“C
ALL FUNCTION
[
SMUGLY CITE REGULATION
]. A
UGMENTED FUNCTION
[
FRUSTRATE SUPERIOR OFFICER
]. O
UTPUT STRING:
M
ERIDAN
S
TANDARDIZATION AND
E
VALUATION
R
EGULATION
MR-415
STATES THAT ALL PERSONNEL ARE SUBJECT TO INSPECTION AND MUST COMPLY WITH THE INSTRUCTIONS OF THE INSPECTION STAFF IN ORDER TO MAINTAIN GOOD ORDER AND DISCIPLINE IN A MILITARY FASHION
. Y
OU HAVE ISSUED AN ILLEGAL ORDER
.”

Sergeant Stract stood taller behind the protective shield of his regulation-spouting “superior,” and the droid turned around to face Rogers.

“C
ALL FUNCTION
[
PERFORM PRIMARY DUTY
]. O
UTPUT STRING:
I
MPROPER FACIAL HAIR GROOMING
. O
NE DEMERIT WILL BE AWARDED
. A
UGMENTED FUNCTION
[
VEILED INCONVENIENCE
] A
N APPOINTMENT WITH
C
YBERMAN
S
ECOND
C
LASS
BAR-BR 116
HAS BEEN SCHEDULED FOR TOMORROW AT 0830
.”

“Go galvanize yourself,” Rogers said. “It'll be a cold day in hell before anyone touches my beard.”

“C
ALL FUNCTION
[
REQUEST CLARIFICATION
]. T
HE IMPROBABLE AMBIENT TEMPERATURE OF A FICTIONAL AFTERLIFE LOCATION DOES NOT MITIGATE YOUR VIOLATION OF REGULATIONS
.”

“Get out of my room!” Rogers shouted, pointing at the door. “I'm not going to stand here and be lectured on military protocol by a
god-damned shiny!”

The word rebounded off the walls through an instantaneous, tense silence. Sergeant Stract dropped the clipboard and gasped. The droids “eyes,” two hollow sockets that glowed a soft blue, flashed red for a moment. For some reason, that sent a chill down Rogers' spine.

“R
EJECT FUNCTION
[
PROTOCOL
162]. C
ALL FUNCTION
[
PERFORM PRIMARY DUTY
]. R
ACIAL SLUR,
” the droid intoned. “F
IVE DEMERITS WILL BE AWARDED
.” He then turned to Sergeant Stract. “T
ARGET CHANGE
[S
ERGEANT
S
TRACT
]. L
OSS OF MILITARY BEARING IN THE HEAT OF COMBAT
. O
NE DEMERIT WILL BE AWARDED
. C
ALL FUNCTION
[
ISSUE ORDER
]. P
LEASE RETRIEVE THE NOTE-TAKING DEVICE
.”

Sergeant Stract looked more mortified at receiving a demerit than at Rogers' comment about shinies. He hurriedly stooped down and picked up the clipboard, returning to attention with a loud clicking of his boots. That didn't prevent him from glaring at Rogers.

“C
ALL FUNCTION
[
CONCLUDE PRIMARY DUTY
]. I
NSPECTION COMPLETE,
” the droid said. “A
REPORT WILL BE FILED IN YOUR PERSONNEL RECORD, WHICH YOU CAN ACCESS BY FILING A REQUEST WITH THE PERSONNEL SQUADRON AFTER A MANDATORY FIVE-DAY WAITING PERIOD
. A
LL INFRACTIONS MUST BE RECTIFIED WITHIN ONE STANDARD DAY
.”

“How am I supposed to know what to fix?” Rogers asked flatly, despite having no intention of fixing anything at all.