Robot Blues (16 page)

“Does the colonel
know?”

“Sure he does.
Like I said, the bar gets raided three or four times a year. They shut the
place down. The locals write editorials. Strebbins gives us a lecture. We go
thirsty for about two weeks. Then Jake’s is back in business and life goes on.”

“I’m surprised
Strebbins puts up with it.”

“You wouldn’t be,
if you lived here,” Tess said, her tone serious. “Duty on Pandor is the pits, a
real morale-buster. We’re confined to this base, never allowed off it, except
when we’ve built up enough leave time to be able to fly to some more hospitable
planet. I have leave coming up in a month. Got any suggestions?”

She looked over at
him. It was his cue to say that he had leave coming up in about a month, too,
and that he knew a planet where the water was blue and so was the moon and they
could admire them both together. It would be easy enough. He could drag Captain
Kergonan out of the closet every few months, have himself a good time. Hell, he
was due.

Xris said nothing,
stared out the window at the flaring lightning.

You’re a fool, he
told himself. This attractive, vibrant woman actually thinks you’re something
special. She’s made it plain that she doesn’t mind hearing your insides whir
and hum while you’re making love. Jamil’s got two wives on two different
planets, for God’s sake. Tess’s a career soldier. She knows it’s not going to
be anything serious. ...

“I’ve got a wife,”
Xris said.

“Ah, well, that’s
different,” Tess said quietly, with a half smile, a shrug.

Xris nodded. He
was watching the storm, watching the lightning flash and spread in sheets over
the bottoms of the clouds. A few drops were starting to splatter on the
windshield. He’d meant to use that as an excuse, a way to get them both off the
hook. It hadn’t quite come out right.

“It doesn’t have
to be different,” he said. “But it is. We’ve been married a long time. Since
before the ... accident. I should have died. I was left to die. Marjorie was
the one who made the decision to turn me into half man, half can. She couldn’t
let go. And then, when I came home ...”

Xris stopped
talking. He’d give his life for a smoke about now.

“When you came
home?” Tess prompted gently.

Xris shrugged. “I
should have expected it. She realized that she couldn’t live with a husband who
had to have an oil change and a lube job every ten thousand kilometers.”

“Xris, I’m sorry,”
Tess said. They had reached Jake’s Bar, or so the glaring neon sign informed
them. She parked the staff car in the shadow of an adjacent building, shut off
the engine. She turned to face him. “You’d rather be hated than pitied. I guess
I understand now.”

“She gave me one
look,” he said. “That’s all it was.

But it was enough.
I turned around and walked out and I’ve never been back. That was ten years ago
or thereabouts.”

“You haven’t seen
your wife in ten years?” Tess was amazed.

“I’ve seen her,”
Xris said. His hand went to his pocket.

“For God’s sake,”
Tess said, laughing, “if you’ve got ‘em, smoke ‘em! You’re making me nervous,
diving for your pocket like that all the time.”

Xris hesitated,
then reached into his pocket. He drew out the gold cigarette case, took out a
twist, put it into his mouth. There was a lighter in the staff car (so much for
regulations). He drew in the smoke gladly. “I’ve seen her,” he repeated.

He had seen his
wife just about a year ago. He’d rescued her from a Corasian meat locker—a
terrible prison in which the aliens kept their victims until they were needed
for food. Marjorie had looked at him a lot differently then. She’d been
grateful. Very, very grateful. Gratitude was the reason why, on the trip back,
she’d told him she still loved him. Told him that she had always loved him....

Xris opened the
window, tossed what remained of the smoldering twist out, closed the window
again. He reached over, took hold of Tess, pulled her close. She hesitated just
a moment, not to make it look good, but studying him intently. Then she slid
into his arms and they got to know each other a little better.

“Now I
am
thirsty,” she said, drawing away.

“We better go in
before the storm breaks,” he said in agreement.

She tilted her
face for one more kiss, then they climbed out of the car and walked—arm in
arm—to the bar.

As they drew
closer to the bar, Xris reconnoitered. Jake’s was nothing special. A
dilapidated, run-down building made of the Pandoran stone that must be used to
build everything on this planet. It was large, two-story—the owner probably
lived on top—and was located outside of town, probably not even in the city
limits. Windows ran the length of the front and the sides, showing those
outside what a good time everyone was having inside. He could see people
dancing.

As he stood in the
road, the bar was on his left. Straight ahead was the construction site. He
could probably follow the same road to reach it. He could see the green lights
of the force field surrounding the downed spaceplane containing the robot
easily from this distance, calculated that it was probably about two kilometers
away.

He would welcome
the exercise, a nice jog. Too bad it was raining. He’d have to come up with
some excuse to ditch Tess. It could be done, but it wouldn’t be pleasant. She’d
be hurt and angry, figure he was a jerk, a cad.

That’s what you
want, isn’t it? he asked himself. Better to be hated ...

“They’re planning
a new shopping mall there. First they’re going to build a wall three meters
high to separate us,” Tess informed him, noting his unusual interest in the
construction site.

“Yeah,” he said, “so
I heard.”

“That’s what they
were going to do. But now it’s turned into—of all things—an archaeological dig.
You see that green glow? They found an ancient spaceplane—”

“Let’s go get that
beer, shall we?” Xris said, rudely cutting her off. He started walking toward
the bar. He was sorry—damn sorry—he’d gotten her involved.

“Sure,” Tess
replied, giving him a puzzled glance. She pulled her arm away from his and he
didn’t make an effort to get it back.

The rain spit and
spattered, the storm was still some distance away. The thunder rumbled over the
ground. They walked the rest of the way to the bar in silence. Xris opened the
door, Tess walked past him into an entry way. Raincoats hung on pegs, umbrellas
stood in a stand, hats lined a shelf. A newsvid machine—broken-stood in one
corner, along with a bubble gum machine. It, too, appeared to be broken.
Through the glass window in a second door, Xris could see the bar. It was
packed with people, most of them in uniform, laughing, dancing, having a good
time. He reached for the inner door. Tess blocked his way.

“Look, Xris,” she
said coolly, “don’t think you’re obligated to go through with this. We can just
call it a night and drive back to the base, if that’s what you want.”

No, that wouldn’t
work at all. He still had to get that damned robot. And he didn’t want the
evening to end, not yet.

A couple, giggling
and kissing, staggered out of the bar. The entryway was small, and the coats,
the vid machine, and more people made it smaller. Xris and Tess were forced
back against the wet coats on the wall to let the other couple pass. On his way
by, the soldier stumbled into Tess. She fell against Xris.

Xris caught hold
of her, steadied her. Tess tried to pull away, but he didn’t let go. The other
couple lurched out the door. It slammed shut behind them. Xris still didn’t let
go.

“You said you
studied cyborgs,” he said to Tess.

“Yes,” she
replied.

“The psychology as
well as the physiology?”

“Some, not much,”
she admitted. “Xris, if I said anything—”

“No, you didn’t.”
He drew in a deep breath. “You’ve been great. And that’s the problem. If you’ve
studied cyborgs, you know that it’s difficult for people to relate to us in any
sort of romantic way. When most women hear my arm start beeping, they don’t ask
me if I’m suffering from a chemical imbalance. They usually just turn pale and
walk off.”

Tess was smiling
at him. She pressed closer, took hold of his hand—his “bad” hand, his phony
hand.

“I’m going to
leave base tomorrow,” Xris continued, “and maybe we’ll see each other again and
maybe we won’t. Let’s not look past tonight. All right?”

To his surprise,
she didn’t badger or tease or argue. She was grave, thoughtful.

“I understand,”
she said.

And Xris had the
odd feeling that she really did.

Thus it is said
that one who knows the enemy and knows himself will not be endangered in a
hundred engagements.

Sun-tzu,
The Art of War

The Pandoran stout
was as good as its reputation. Xris regretted he couldn’t enjoy it to its
fullest, but he had work to do that night and needed a clear head. He sipped
slowly at his, explained—when Tess asked him if he wanted another—that the
delicate chemical balance of his body didn’t deal well with alcohol.

Tess’s roommates
spotted them, came over to take a good look at Xris, exchange a few bantering
remarks with Tess, then left to return to the dance floor.

Xris and Tess sat
side by side in a high-backed wooden booth next to a window. They had to sit
practically chin to chin to hear each other over the roar of the music, which
was provided by a couple of soldiers on portable synthesizers. The soldiers had
more enthusiasm than talent, but they knew enough to lay down a steady,
thumping beat, which was all the dancers wanted. Xris and Tess shouted
companionably at each other, enjoying the stout and the company.

Xris’s earlier
half-formed plan of ditching Tess to flirt with another woman—maybe one of her
own roommates—was out. Tess would know it was an act, she wouldn’t believe it
for an instant. And, Xris had to admit to himself, he just wasn’t the type.
Women weren’t exactly doing nosedives over the bar to get close to him. He had
about decided that the best policy was honesty— perhaps not complete honesty,
but as honest as he could be. He would simply tell her to drive back to the
base without him. He wanted to be alone, to do some thinking. Maybe he wanted
to be alone to rehearse his speech. That was it. Rehearse his speech.

“Want another?”
Tess asked, indicating his empty glass.

“No, but you go
ahead. I’ll get it.”

“That’s all right.
I need to stand up for a while.”

Tess joined the
line at the crowded bar, waiting to place her order for another glass of stout.
Xris glanced at his watch. 0100. The rain had quit, but, judging by the flashes
of the lightning on the horizon, the storm had been the first in a long series.
If he was going to make his move, he needed to make it soon. He stood up,
started to go over to Tess, to feed her his line, when something large crashed
into the door with a thud that was audible even over the raucous music.

A soldier, seated
at a table near the front windows, sprang to his feet.

“Raid!” he
bellowed.

The Pandoran
police smashed through the front door.

People scattered
every conceivable direction. Xris looked at Tess. She turned to look at him. Flailing,
pushing, and shoving bodies churned between them. Xris’s instinct was to fight
his way to Tess’s side. His second thought was more rational.
This is it,
fool! This is your chance!
Still, he might have ignored the rational, gone
for the instinctual, if Tess hadn’t made the decision for him. She pointed
urgently behind him, directing him to the windows.

“What about you?”
he mouthed.

She jerked her
thumb in the direction of the women’s restroom and, in the same motion, turned
and ran that way. Xris hesitated one more instant, saw Tess’s two roommates
making a dash for the lady’s room, as well.

Xris lost sight of
her then. A large Pandoran cop loomed in front of him, yelling something
unintelligible and swinging a nightstick at Xris’s head. Xris caught the
nightstick in his cybernetic hand, squeezed. The nightstick crumbled into small
particles. The cop stared, open-mouthed, then backed away.

Xris wasted no
more time. He smashed into one table, leaped onto another, aimed a kick at the
window with his steel leg. Glass exploded outward. Xris dove through, headlong.
Two more soldiers were right behind him, and more were coming after them.

Xris landed
heavily on one shoulder, rolled across concrete, bumped against a curb. He
picked himself up, brushed off the broken glass, and took a quick look around.

The Pandoran
police, in unmarked squad cars, had the front covered. More were arriving,
lights flaring and sirens wailing. A large van—presumably to be used to haul
away the unfortunates who got caught—drifted ponderously down from the sky.

Tess’s staff car
was fenced in, fore and aft, by two Pandoran cop cars. If she managed to
escape, she’d be traveling back to the base on foot.

Xris fretted over
this, reminded himself that she knew the territory. She was quite capable of
taking care of herself. Still, he hazarded a few more seconds he couldn’t
afford, hoping to catch sight of her. That proved useless. Bodies were diving
through the windows. Fights had broken out. The Pandoran police surged through
the parking lot, attempting to cordon off the back of the building. Xris didn’t
dare wait any longer. He ran.

His running style
was clumsy, awkward. His physical side seemed always to be in competition with
his mechanical side, giving him a peculiar, swing-legged, lopsided gait. But he
could move fast and most of him didn’t tire. The parts that did grow weary or
started to hurt or cramp he ignored.

He found the road
leading to the construction site, discovered that it was also, unfortunately,
the main route the cops were taking to reach the bar. Headlights caught him. He
made a mad dash to a culvert on the other side. Someone shouted, and one car
swerved to try to catch him, but he put on some speed, headed straight into the
desert. The cops gave up the case, went after easier prey.