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Hubcap hadn’t realized earlier, when they’d left one jetpod in a clearing before zipping over to the river’s edge, just how much inhospitable terrain there was between the two. What had started out as a triumphant march back with the allegiance settled had turned into a single-file climb up a devilishly slippery hill. Even though the ground was dry, it was coated in leaves and near vertical. Elliot went first, mapping out trees to hold onto. Cameras were stowed for safety. Hubcap was in the middle of the group, carrying the precious jar of pheromone-soaked gauze.
The alien ambassadors had arranged things while they were at the jetpod tree. They’d gathered the remaining few adults at the mating grounds and explaining what was at stake. By the time the aircar full of offworlders had touched down on the flat rock shelf, several pairs were ready to tolerate a minor indignity for the greater good.
There had even been a mate for Mudtail — more than one willing, after what he’d done. The colortalker society as a whole certainly thought well of Mudtail now, despite his “deficiency.” He had been crucial in a world-altering alliance. There was almost a fight over who got the honor of doing egg business with him.
And now Mudtail was off exploring the woods with the other adults, his own pheromones in the mix and his reputation cemented for generations to come. He’d been the first to allow gauze pads to be taped on in strategic locations. The waterbound medical professionals who’d poked their heads into the air had suggested where. And the swarm of important underwater people had been extremely interested in the proceedings.
They’d also been interested in the jetpod. That had been the first order of business, rolling it carefully from the aircar into the water, then moving the car to make space for the mating dances. Larry had flown back to where they’d left the spare pod, with the others planning to join him when the hurried ceremony was complete.
It was done now, with liberal use of the translator. Hubcap and his “designated allies/assistants” were now trade partners with the town of Airwater. Hubcap would have been more excited about that, and about Owen’s likely reaction to the news, if not for the urgent need to get the pheromones into the hands of the right scientists before anything happened to them.
An alarming sound reached Hubcap. “Hey, shush,” he said, interrupting a debate over whether or not to drop off the second jetpod as a gesture of goodwill. “I hear engines.”
The humans froze. The distinct sound of aircars was loud enough for even them to hear, and approaching fast.
“Hurry!” Vic barked, lunging up the hill. The others followed, scrambling toward the car that waited at the top.
They had barely made it past the trees when a car full of armored humans landed in front of them. Two men jumped out, yelling orders to stand still, and aiming stun guns that could stop a heart.
“Hands where we can see them!”
“Do not move!”
The TV crew stumbled to a halt, breathing heavily. Hubcap studied the pair with the stun guns. They looked like mercenary/bodyguard types, dressed in dark blue battle gear with threatening body language. One was saltine-white and the other was middle brown, like mismatched bookends of Hired Goon. The other people following them out of the car were local critter-wranglers, dressed for work and looking none too pleased at being roped into all this. But they followed orders and surrounded the camera crew to make sure nobody tried anything funny.
Hubcap held the jar of pheromones close, trying to stand unobtrusively behind Vic. The humans kept their hands where they could be seen. Across the field he saw Larry, seated in the aircar, keeping his own hands away from the controls. Three locals that he probably knew on a first name basis approached with weapons made for capturing human-sized aliens.
Hubcap was thinking over the logistics of firing a net launcher inside an aircar when he heard more engines on the way. Goon One and Goon Two herded the rebellious group to the side, telling them in no uncertain terms that they had better behave.
“The boss is coming,” said the darker one.
“Do not anger him more than you already have,” added the one with skin the color of sunscreen, his eyes flicking skyward.
As these new aircars approached at unsafe speeds, Hubcap wondered what they thought of the jetpod resting on a dense shrub some distance away. Larry had insisted that if he was the one to stay with the vehicle, that he not have to worry about the jetpod going off behind him if he sneezed. No one had thought it worth arguing about.
Now there appeared to be a different argument in the offing.
The two other cars landed, making the meadow distinctly crowded, and people rushed out. One man was shouting as soon as the door opened.
“Where are they? You! How dare you!” He was well-dressed, with skin that was naturally tan but unnaturally reddened with anger. And he was prepared to vent all of that anger now. He stomped up to the group and yelled at them, focusing first on Hubcap, but shifting his attention to Vic when she replied with calm authority.
She explained that they had found the solution to the frenzy. The man yelled right over her, not even letting her get to the part about starting diplomatic relations with the alien city.
Everyone that the man had brought with him was keeping quiet. The row of suit-clad executives looked displeased about the dampness of their pant cuffs, but that was it. A pair of offworld camera jockeys had started filming from a distance, but one of the Goons was quietly convincing them to turn the cameras off. Hubcap spotted Ms. Acosta staring stonily ahead, Dr. Rhodes glancing about like a prey animal, and Owen standing at the edge of the crowd watching the proceedings with disbelief. Hubcap knew the scientist had heard Vic’s revelation. He would want desperately to find out what the camera crew had uncovered.
But Shouty McYellington wasn’t interested.
“...Then despite direct orders to stay out of it, you stole a company aircar and ruined the entire operation!” the man exclaimed, striding back and forth.
Hubcap raised his hand. “Point of order,” he said. “We didn’t steal anything; we had full permission. Not to mention, we just saved your butts. You should be thanking us.”
Shoutyface stopped pacing. “Thanking you? For ruining our diplomatic relations with the native village? And who gave you permission to take the car?”
The robot put a fist on his hip and frowned, still holding the jar. “I see no reason to tell you,” he said. “Not if you’re going to be irrational about it.”
“Irrational?” the man seethed.
Vic tried to interject calming words, but Hubcap kept talking. “Yes, irrational! We just solved the mystery of frenzy — which has been killing meatbags such as yourself for years — and we have provided the beginnings of a cure! You should not be yelling at us!”
The executive pointed. “You disobeyed orders and ruined a company operation!”
Hubcap tapped metal fingers against the side of his head. “You might not know this, but we don’t actually work for you. And again,” he said, flinging his arm upward, “We just did a Very Good Thing.”
An unexpected voice spoke up. “Your pardon sir, but if this is true,” said Dr. Rhodes, “They’ve done us a great service by disobeying.” Rageface whirled to stare him down, but the psychologist held his ground. “They have.”
“Is that so?” the man said, turning his ire toward the new target. “By hamstringing our relations with the new species of alien?”
Dr. Rhodes shook his head. “With all due respect, the frenzy is a far more important issue. The alien city will still be here later, but the frenzy is killing people every day. I think we should hear what they have to say.”
“You have the temerity to reevaluate my priorities?” demanded Anger Management Man. “On what grounds?”
Ms. Acosta stepped forward. “Sir, the frenzy is one of the fastest-growing hazards of space travel today,” she said, stopping beside Dr. Rhodes. “You have read the reports. You were briefed before coming here—”
He cut her off. “I won’t have some weak-minded imbecile’s fainting fit get in the way of business!”
Dr. Rhodes cocked his head. “You haven’t been off-world before, have you, Mr. Bhandari?” he asked. “I can assure you, reading a report is very different from watching the people around you go violently mad.”
“A cure for the frenzy would be invaluable,” Ms. Acosta persisted. “Taking these people to task for going behind your back is like shooting the person who gives you a winning lottery code.” She spread her hands in exasperation. “You hired advisors, and it would be wise to listen to our advice.”
“How dare you!” said Bhandari the Blatherskite. “I should—” He went on at length about what he should do, while several people tried to wrestle the conversation back in a useful direction.
Hubcap looked around for ideas. When Owen threw his hands in the air and strode away toward the aircars, a thought started to form. Hubcap assessed the scene. Yelling man. Lackeys. Locals there for show. Goons there to be reckoned with. Aircar nearby. A jetpod in a bush.
He edged backward, putting the others between himself and Apoplexy McGee, then set the jar on the ground. This freed both hands to use the translator in a way it wasn’t intended.
Owen twitched like a startled cat when words popped into his head. “Hey. Can you hear me? Think really hard.”
“Who is this?” Owen’s thoughts came back to Hubcap.
“This is your conscience speaking. No, not really. It’s the robot with the brainwave translator. Heyo.” Hubcap waggled his eyebrows across the crowd.
Owen didn’t question it. “What did you find??”
“Our alien friends tell me that the frenzy is caused by airborne creatures that we can’t see,” Hubcap said, “They’re attracted to mating pairs, but will settle for anything with emotions. We’ve deduced that pheromones are what the things really go for, and have — at great risk to life and limb — collected a sample of the pheromones for duplication at the lab. Oh, and we’re officially trade partners with the big city up the river now.”
Yellingman Spittlefountain moved on to taking Xian’s head off for trying to convince him to listen.
Owen edged back closer. “What now? Can you sneak me the samples?”
Hubcap eyed the various enforcers and armored locals. “Not without a distraction.” His gaze slid sideways to the jetpod. “Get ready.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Something stupid. Tell Larry to start the engines.” Hubcap turned off the translator, removed the loop from around his neck, and crouched to set it next to the jar. He paused for a moment, calculating trajectories, then opened his leg compartment and straightened back up. He palmed the knife as he did.
It is a curious thing, for a robot to defy its programming.
It makes for a kind of terrifying euphoria, much like that of a human at the peak of a roller coaster that is much steeper than anticipated.
Hubcap had always held a certain degree of disdain for the former cleaning robots who sought out paint and food to make giddy messes, and the medical bots who took up sharpshooting in their spare time. He’d never seen the appeal.
Now, as he took aim at something that he was mostly sure wouldn’t kill anyone — in order to save everyone — he felt that he finally understood roller coasters.
He flung the knife, grabbed the jar, and ran. The explosion was deafening.