Random Chance and the Paradise that is Earth Read Online Free PDF Page A

new housemate?"
    "We’ve got plenty," said Hewey. "He can also
shoot updates our way as needed."
    "Does that work for you,
Cubey?" said Random as the prison's airlock cycled and opened,
revealing The Pompatus' . He hurried in and hit the cycle button.
    "Whoops," said Hewey. "Hang on a moment,
partner. It looks like you've got nanobots all over you."
    "Cubey?" said Random.
    "They are medbots, twenty-eight point two
percent still active. One moment, please ... I also read a viral
assemblage bot that is attached to sixty-six percent of them,
active or not. Analyzing ..."
    "Could it be, friend Cubey,
that before you became Cubey you were unknowingly treatin' prisoners with purposely
contaminated medbots?" asked Hewey.
    That gave Cubey long pause.
Random waited in The
Pompatus ' airlock, listening to the patient
whisper of the airplant. There wasn't time for this.
    "Hewson," he said, "I'm fine in here. Get us
off this rock."
    "Destination?"
    "Vesta," said Random, shaking his head in
frustration. "Vesta. Let’s plot that slingshot to save fuel. Mia’s
going to have to wait a little longer."
    "She's probably worked out that you got
yourself in a peck o' trouble," said Hewey.
    "I could run away but I'd
rather stay in the warmth of your smile lighting up my day
..." murmured Random. He punched the
wall.
    "Analysis complete," said Cubey. (Was that
anger in his voice?) "Medbots are indeed contaminated with a rider,
one that eventually overwhelms the carrier."
    "What’s its function?" said Random and Hewey
together.
    "Unknown," said Cubey. "But if you step back
into the entry tube, I believe I can deactivate them."
    "No need," said Hewey. "They're dyin' left
n' right. They must be specific to this hoosegow."
    "Agreed. I'm downloading
to The Pompatus of Love 's core. Random Chance, guards have entered the entry tube.
You would be advised to make a hasty exit. I have disabled the
prison's security beams, but I can only do so for another
seventy-six-point-two-eight seconds before the guards either reboot
the subsystem or employ manual beams. I will not be able to help
you then."
    The airlock finished cycling and the door
slid open, admitting Random to his ship. He hurried up to the
bridge, noting with a growl the mess the Garkies had made. Hewey
jettisoned away from the tube; the RV started drifting slowly to
starboard.
    They were still in the prison's bay, in
total darkness. Just before Random asked the way out, great doors
above them opened slowly. Sunlight poured through, bright and
beautiful.
    "I have control of your ship, Random
Chance," said Cubey. "Auto-release engaged ..."
    Random felt his gut sag
slightly as The Pompatus of Love was ejected from the bay by his new
friend.
    "Beam off," said Cubey. "Your ship is under
your control now."
    "Thanks again, friend Cubey," said
Hewey.
    Random sat and turned The Pompatus around and
eased on the accelerator very gently, keeping as low as he could.
Mars loomed hugely overhead. The prison's many structures, some
quite tall, came and passed like bone-white stems sticking out of a
huge rock. Solar panels here and there caught the sun and shot
harsh highlights at him. Those panels were now Cubey's very heart;
they pumped the lifeblood of the sun into his power cells and would
now keep him conscious. Random thought about how thin the line was
between consciousness and unconsciousness, between life and
death.
    Thinner than the width of a
photon .
    "Speed: two hunnies," said Hewey.
    "This prison is frickin' enormous," murmured
Random, who kept the bridge bubble retracted. "It covers the entire
moon!"
    "Random Chance, your altitude is too low for
the structures that should just now be visible on your
horizon."
    "I see them," said Random.
    "Are you prepared for interplanetary
flight?" said Cubey.
    "Hewey?"
    "Let's do it."
    "Full thrusters are advised at
this stage, heading two-oh-two by seventy-eight by twenty-two
degrees z by x , burn
thrust at fifty-seven percent for twenty-two