Sweeper Sleeper

DATE: Year 308-B. Sol 406

LOCATION: Inside The Vanguard

STATUS: Engine Cooling

The mouth of the dead ship was a jagged wound in metal, just deep enough to hide them.

The Mighty Sparrow drifted inside the breach, settling onto the magnetic decking, then Phoenix killed the engines.

-Temperature dropping, the Sparrow’s computer announced.

Phoenix exhaled, rubbing his face.

-We got lucky, Market. That debris field, there was a tunnel. A straight line through the chaos. If I hadn't hit that vector perfectly, we’d be shredded.

Market was unbuckling. He felt vindicated.

-You said not to count on getting lucky, Market responded. That was a supply lane.

Market pulled up a schematic on his datapad. It was an Old Earth blueprint, blue lines glowing against the cracked screen.

-The Vanguard carried a complement of fifty HA-1 Logistics Droids, Market said. Their standing order was to keep the flight path clear of debris.

Phoenix looked out the viewport at the silent, dusty hangar.

-Original Happy Androids? You think those janitors are still working after three hundred years?

-Nuclear batteries, Market said. And hard-coded loyalty. I bet there’s at least one unit still running the loop. Moving trash. Clearing the road for a pilot who died before the Rip.

While they argued, Bit had slipped out of his restraints. He was staring out the side viewport.

-Look it, Bit whispered, tapping on the glass.

Phoenix looked.

Pinned beneath a slab of collapsed ceiling plating was a flash of industrial orange.

-Is that it? Phoenix asked.

-Model HA-1, Market nodded, seeing the bulk.

Bit was already at the airlock, cycling the manual release.

-Hey, kid, stop! Phoenix shouted.

But the airlock hissed. Bit scrambled out into the vacuum of the hangar.

Phoenix grabbed his helmet.

- I’m going to kill him.

He followed Bit onto the deck. The kid was kneeling next to the trapped machine. It was massive, twice the size of a Lanky and heftier, with hydraulic arms and rocket-thruster legs., pinned and immobilized.

Bit tapped the chest plate. A yellow standby light pulsed.

-It’s stuck, Phoenix said, his voice echoing in his helmet. Probably got trapped during the collapse.

-It cleared the path, Market said, coming up behind them. It kept the lane open until the roof fell on it.

Bit looked at Phoenix. He pointed to the slab pinning the robot. Then he pointed to Phoenix’s hydraulic arm.

-Help him, Bit mouthed.

Phoenix rolled his eyes and sighed.

-It, help it.

He looked at the machine that had unknowingly saved their lives by moving trash for three centuries.

-Alright, Phoenix grunted. One professional courtesy.

Heave, he yelled, bracing his boots and gripping the slab with his claw. He lifted the debris while Bit pulled the robot free. The machine twitched. The yellow light turned green.

-Caution, the robotic voice buzzed. Obstruction cleared. Resuming shift.

It tried to stand, but its leg servos sparked. It collapsed back onto the deck. It looked at Bit.

-Shift incomplete. Quota not met.

-It wants to work, Market said.

-It’s broken, Phoenix said. We can use the battery for the decoy, but this chassis is cooked, he said, tapping on the android’s chest.

Bit shook his head, patting the robot’s massive arm and looking longingly at Phoenix.

-We are not keeping it, Phoenix warned.

-We might need it, Market said.

Phoenix looked at the robot, then at the kid.

-Fine, he said in resignation. Drag it inside. We can tinker with the programming. But if it leaks oil on my upholstery, I’m turning it into a toaster.