CHAPTER 27
BIRTH ON THE STARSHIP
The battle for the starship spread like a fire in a paper mill. The pirate horde fought through dozens of airlocks and cargo bays, stretching the defenders thin. The defenders often found themselves facing enemies in front and behind. The hoard continued to dock and enter the conflict swelling to their numbers with fresh fighters while the defenders were slowly decimated.
The deathbots ran berserk like a psychopathic nightmare among pirates and defenders alike; ignoring the light weaponry they crashed through barricades thrown up by the desperate men and pursued them down corridors and avenues of the ship. The mechanical onslaught spread confusion and terror throughout the ship.
Professor Ratts was to command the deathbots. He chose the classroom for his control center and cleared it by kicking each table and chair against a wall.
"Work station one, exit Ratts' shuttle, and come to Daddy." A workstation floated through the hole in the skin of the ship where the shuttle had attached itself. Ratts guided it to the center of the room.
"Work table alpha, exit Ratts' shuttle and come to Daddy." A table with lights floated through the opening and he guided it to next to the first. Ratts brought in more equipment until the center of the room had a semi-circle of machinery, monitors, equipment and tools.
He pulled a chair from the pile against the wall and sat in front of a monitor. For a moment, he listened to the sounds of the ship, the roar of battle was steady. "Status. Where are my little ones?"
The screen lit up with numbers and grafts, but only showed eighteen life signs out of twenty deathbots. "Honey Bunny, Where are you?" There was no answer. Reaching into the screen with his human hand he moved images around and brought up more charts, they confirmed that Honey Bunny was gone. His words were a whisper, "So soon, I'm sorry."
"Baby Doll, where are you?" There was no answer. Again his hand entered the screen to search the ship and data streams. Baby Doll was gone, defeated. "I'm sorry, Baby Doll."
Expressionless he watched the rest of his children. "So, I'm your-your commander. I did my job, I built you from scrap. I gave you life from death. What are my orders? Go- make death." He could have commanded them, or guided as a father would, but he had set them free and turned them loose. Through the eyes of their cameras, he watched as they rampaged and ravaged different parts of the ship. When humanity fled they tore at the fabric of the ship itself, pulling doors off, tearing walls, gouging floors smashing machinery and pulling wires.
The monitor switched to a set of graphs and charts. Cuddle Bug was in trouble. With his touch the monitor showed the scene from Cuddle Bug's cameras, dozens of pirates and defenders were mixed together firing weapons. A group was working on something behind the wall of men. A weapon. Rats bent toward the monitor. They emerged from behind the others, he saw their weapon, three tasers were bound together, a belt of power packs connected to them by heavy electric cable. The discharge nozzles of the weapons were covered with wire that had a long lead ending in conductive metal.
Ratts saw their plan. The massive electrical discharge of the connected power packs would incinerate the fragile electronics in the deathbot. The men swung the lead like a cowboy's lasso and snagged the deathbot. A moment later the screen went black. With a sigh he touched the screen; now the charts and numbers showed the activities of seventeen deathbots. "Cuddle Bug, I am so sorry."
Ratts got up, turned and kicked the chair back to the pile of furniture. With slumped shoulders he returned to the shuttle.
"OK, Sweetie, Daddy is coming," This one he brought out himself. The coffin-like box was heavy, he had to drag it across the floor to the center of the semi-circle.
The power grip of his mechanical hand ripped the latch off and the coffin. With loving care Professor Ratts lifted "her" onto the workbench and lay her gently on her back. "My masterpiece. Your face is perfect. Your hair is just the way you liked it with waves but not too much. You always had white skin with just a little flush to it. And your fingers are so slender- they are pure artwork."
Ratts looked down on her with love. His sad voice whispered, "Your lips are like your mother's you know. You have her hair and her eyebrows too."
He set out to work on the final touches, the fine tune, the software, and the last double check for bugs and glitches.
The monitor flashed with a new status. Another deathbot had been destroyed, now sixteen remained. "I am so sorry, Kissy Face."
Ratts continued to work on his masterpiece. The minutes wore on to hours; he was oblivious to the clash in the hall outside the classroom with bangs, booms and the screams of men fighting to the death. The monitor flashed with the reports as his deathbots were destroyed. Each time his lips whispered, "I'm sorry." Fifteen, then fourteen, then thirteen deathbots vanished from the data-stream. He watched the end of another. Twelve remained, fighting on and committing mayhem.
At last, she was done. He dressed her in her own play clothes.
For the first time, he looked with real interest at the monitor and noted the number of living deathbots was only twelve. With his human hand, Ratts reached under her back and touched the activator. Her brown eyes opened.
"Daddy!"
The monitor indicated thirteen deathbots.
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| Professor Ratts and his Creation, |
(c) Adron
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