Alex took a deep breath as he stepped out of the Candid Cantina, his plan had started and now all that was left was to execute it. It took him a minute to realize that, for the first time in a long while, he was alone with his thoughts. At first, it felt freeing, then it felt debilitating. You know you can’t do this; you know you’ll just screw it up- you always screw it up. His mind told him as he made his way over to the round metal plates. Look at you, playing detective, who do you think you are?
He waved the thoughts away as he looked down at his feet at the odd contraption. He still had no idea how it worked, though after observing what had happened with Timothy, he knew that there had to be a way to operate it. He tried jumping, nothing. He clicked his heels on the ground, nothing. He even tried clapping but still, the machine gave no sign of turning on. This is the start of your grand plan to save your friend? You might as well start buying flowers for his grave.
Gripping his fists in his hands, Alex tried to focus. He’d seen people use it before, if only briefly, and they seemed to do it with ease. Timothy had also somehow managed to turn it on by himself, and he certainly hadn’t flipped a hidden switch. Realization dawned on the boy like a shock of electricity, he now felt foolish for not figuring it out sooner. With all these different aliens on the Ring, of course, it wouldn’t be operated by footprints or buttons, it would be controlled by something everyone has in common. Alex smiled to himself as he stood upright on the plate. It would be controlled by thought.
A bright flash of light erupted at his feet; the world went hazy for a moment then changed. Alex was now standing in front of the Extemorst Casino, he chuckled to himself as he stepped off the plate. The sound of the machine recharging was just barely noticeable, it would seem it took a lot of power to use. Timothy must have gotten lucky. He thought, taking in the sights. He thought the right thought at the right time, it must take the teleporter a while to recharge too.
Inside the casino, ARI-47-Z was at his usual post behind his seller’s desk. It watched as Alex walked in, stopped, and then looked at the ground. Clearly, he was observing that the massive red carpet that had been rolled out to great the lottery crowd was no longer red but a nasty shade of brown from all the dirt and debris. “Hello, Fortune-Seeker! We regret to inform you that lottery tickets are no longer available, but we welcome you to try our other services!” Its metallic voice boomed.
Alex looked around at all the other ‘services,’ it looked rather boring to him. Casinos were something that always puzzled the boy, seemed like a giant, flashy waste of money to him. From over at a blackjack table a giant squid creature gave him a toothy grin, beckoning him to take a seat. Alex was, unsurprisingly, resistant to their charm. “I’m here to speak with Vander Extemorst.” He spoke up to the robot. “I have some questions I need to ask him.”
The bronze machine sat idle for a moment, its bright screen eyes still locked into the shape of two happy upturned lines. “Terribly sorry, but Mr. Extemorst is not accepting meetings at the moment, do come again another time!”
“Oh, I see.” Alex had suspected that this would be his answer. “Well, can you… sorry, what do I call you?”
“You may call me whatever you like, fortune-seeker!”
“Well, what do people normally call you?”
“Most guests usually refer to me as ‘scrap metal,’ while Mr. Extemorst tends to call me ‘a waste of space.’”
“Well… that’s unpleasant.” Alex’s face crinkled up in disgust, he was starting to like Vander even less somehow. “I saw how Vander treats you, thank god you’re a robot.”
The machine titled its disc-like head. “How does my nature as a robot change things?”
“I didn’t mean to say that it sucks any less because you’re a robot!” Alex clarified. “But at least you don’t feel it when you get killed, and hey you get to come back!”
“My pain receptors have not been disabled.” ARI clarified, suddenly its voice changed, it seemed to be something the robot did involuntarily. “Your friends at IBT would like you to know that every ARI system comes with full sensory capabilities, for any occasion!”
Alex felt a shiver go up his spine, “wait, you can feel all of that? Jesus…”
“I serve Mr. Extemorst, and his wish is my command!”
The boy made a mental note of his hatred of capitalism. “I’m so…” He was getting off-topic, he needed to stay focused. “What would you prefer to be called?”
“My title is currently ARI-47-Z, alternatively you may call me ARI, ARI-47, ARI-Z, 47-Z, Z…”
“I’ll call you ARI-47, how about that?” He said, cutting the machine off before he could go any further. “So, ARI-47, why don’t you just let me talk to Vander, I promise I only want to talk! Look at me, I’m unarmed!” The boy spun around, showing off his tattered plain button shirt and grey pants, both with nowhere to hide a weapon.
The robot repeated himself. “Mr. Extemorst is not accepting meetings at this time.”
Alex huffed; it was clear that he wasn’t getting passed this metallic, frisbee-headed guard using his honesty. Would you look at that? His thoughts echoed. Already failed before you’ve even started. The boy felt the urge to pace, but an idea came to his mind, practically digging through all the unpleasant thoughts ringing in his head. “Oh well, that’s a shame.” He said, turning on his heel and acting like he was leaving. “I was just going to tell him where he could find the winning lottery ticket, but I suppose he must be busy.”
The happy upturned lines of ARI-47’s eyes flashed changing into two straight ticks, it was clear the message was received. Alex turned back and smiled, if he couldn’t make it in with the truth then he would simply have to do it with a lie.
…
Vander Extemorst sat at a luxurious desk that was needlessly large and barely fit inside the spacious, yet tight room. The floor was lined with carpet, which was a deep red color, the hue of choice for the Extemorst brand. The walls were lined with pictures, awards, and several contracts with text that varied from very large to so small that it was incomprehensible. A fireplace and a mantle stood behind the mammoth-like desk, although no fire burned inside the hearth, and nothing lined the shelf. The only thing of note was the giant picture of a squid-like man that hung above the two, in his hand the man held a cane, and it was noticeable that the features of his tentacle face were considerably drier and drooping than usual.
The businessman was hunched over looking at a pile of disheveled papers. His oily hands moved through them and brushed them aside as if he was searching for some lost piece of gold but like with most gold-diggers, he was coming up short. It caused him considerable aggravation when his robot rolled into his office, “what do you think you’re doing in here? I said no interruptions!”
“Sorry, sir,” ARI-47 replied quickly. “But there is a man here to speak with you, he claims to know where to find the winning lottery ticket.”
Vander’s eyes went wide, “well, what are you standing there for? Bring him in!”
The robot nodded and rolled outside, quickly returning with Alex. The boy made a face when he saw the room, it reminded him of the time that the theater attempted to construct a luxurious set of a hunting lodge but neglected to account for the fact they had no budget. “Do come in, have a seat,” Vander said, gesturing over to a fluffy, ugly red chair that sat before the desk.
Alex smiled and took the offer, he felt his back uncomfortably sink into the chair giving him the impression that he was being hugged by an airbag. “Thanks.”
With a smile, the businessman stood up and loomed over the boy, an old tactic he was used to employing. “I understand from my robot that you have knowledge on where my… ahem… the winning lottery ticket is?”
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The boy found himself in the shadow of the alien man, and his heart started to sputter. You’re going to blow it; you know that right? It’s what you always do, he’s going to see right through you and your friends are never going to hear from you again, not that they would want to anyway. “Yes, yes I do,” Alex said with a coy grin. He’d seen actors before they went on stage, their nerves wrecked and their hands shaking, but when they stepped foot in the limelight, they became someone else- someone confident and composed. Right now, that’s just what he needed, and he let the ruse carry him. “But I would like to ask you a few questions before I reveal this information, I do think that’s fair?”
Vander frowned. “What type of questions?”
“Oh, nothing too personal, just a couple of tidbits that I’m interested in, that’s all.”
“How do I know that you aren’t lying to me? How do I know that you aren’t some reporter trying to get a scoop?” The man scoffed.
Alex shrugged. “You don’t, but if you kick me out, who knows what I will do? I may use my handy dandy information to go and claim the ticket for myself, that’s a big prize you’ve put out there.”
The powerplay was clearly not working on this one and Vander sat back down and then glared. “What’s your name?”
“I… um… I…” The last time someone had asked him that, he had screwed up. The smug face of Zerat-Mondul flashed in his mind as well as the image of his friends on the ground with swords at their necks. See… I told you… “My name is Alex.” He spoke firmly, deciding that the truth was now the way to go.
“Alex?” Vander felt the word in his mouth, it felt weird. “Alex… what?”
“Alex Gaiman.” His name felt weird in his mouth too, it had been a while since he needed to use his full name. “You won’t know me, I’m new around here, though you might have seen me at the bar during the ‘incident.’”
Vander had seen him make his little speech in the bar, he smiled with recollection. “Ah, yes… you.” He chuckled.
“May I ask what’s so funny?”
The businessman shook his head. “I don’t understand you people, why go to all that trouble, and risk your lives for that blond, idiotic heathen? Don’t you know you're just wasting valuable time delaying the inevitable?”
“I don’t think that trying to save someone’s life could ever be considered a waste.” Alex countered.
“It is when the person you’re saving is a clear liability.” Vander snapped his fingers, causing ARI-47 to go into action. The robot rolled over to a little mini bar that sat in the corner and began to make some drinks. “Now, before you ask me these questions, I would like to know where the ticket is, I think that’s reasonable.”
Alex wasn’t born yesterday. “I don’t think so, I’ve seen the way you make your deals, you’re not exactly the honest type.”
“For an unknown, you do like to run your mouth, don’t you?”
“My mouth does the running when my legs are tired from pacing, it’s a symbiotic relationship.” Alex attempted to rest his head on his arm, but he had sunken too far into the chair to reach. “Questions first, answers later.”
ARI-47 rolled over to the desk and sat glasses in front of the two. The drink was a dark brown, almost ink-like as it swirled in its place. Alex did not move to take it, Vander noticed this and chuckled as he took a sip. “It’s not poisoned if you were worried.”
“Are you sure?” Alex remarked, taking the cup out of a sense of obligation. “You don’t exactly treat your robot well.”
Vander shot a glance at his metal assistant. “It’s an ARI droid and I’m its master, it couldn’t hurt me if it tried, that’s not in the buckethead’s programming. Besides, why would I want to kill you?”
Again ARI-47’s voice seemed forced to speak up. “Your friends at IBT would like you to know that no harm will come to any owners of an ARI system, that malfunction has been weeded out with the latest module due to high demand!”
Alex took a sip of his drink, nearly coughing out a lung as it passed his lips. It didn’t just look like ink, it was ink. “So, these questions you wish to ask me.” Vander began. “Do get them over with.”
Recovering his composure, Alex spoke his first inquiry. “My first question is this, why are you here?”
“Pardon me?”
“Why are you on the Ring? It’s clear that you don’t consider yourself a part of the people here, so why do you even stay here? Surely with your giant company, you could afford a better room?”
Vander squirmed a little in his seat. “I have my reasons.” Alex tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied by the response. “I’m… handling a task that my father needs taking care of.”
“Really? What task?”
This question clearly irked his conversation partner, “I was placed here to make sure the lottery runs smoothly.”
Alex attempted valiantly to keep the sarcasm from his voice. “Oh, so I take it that hasn’t been going well, judging by the fact that the lottery was four zeroes overpriced and that the winner got murdered within minutes?” The war against his sarcasm was lost as he let out a little, “tisk, tisk.”
The slimy knuckles on Vander’s hand grew darker as he squeezed the glass in his hand. “Are you mocking me? I’ll have you know that I am one of, if not THE most respected businessman in this quadrant! I will not be disrespected by some nobody!”
The boy quickly raised his hands, he knew he needed to backpedal, he had let himself be carried away a bit. “I meant no disrespect!” He cried. “In fact, that’s a reason why I wanted to speak with you! I can see that you clearly are no man to be messed with, you seem like the type of person who always gets what he wants!”
“Continue.” Said the businessman, who was not impervious to complements.
“It’s clear that your father must think highly of you to put you in charge of such an important task! The pressure must be exhausting.” Alex wondered how his teeth looked as he lied through them. “With all that pressure, I’m not surprised a mistake happened, at this rate it was inevitable for something to go wrong, especially in this place.”
The words seemed to work their magic on the businessman, he seemed to enjoy the feeling of having his ego stroked. “Yes… I suppose you’re right.”
“I’m sure that you wouldn’t want to disappoint your father, after all, he was the one that gave you everything you have… right?” Alex felt that his assumption would be corrected, alien or not, rich people are all the same. “You wouldn’t want to look bad, now would you?”
Vander shook his head, “no, I wouldn’t. Father is… very particular about mistakes.” He turned in his chair, looking up at the painting above the mantle. “He gets very cross when things don’t go his way.”
“And no doubt, 40 million credits suddenly vanishing inside the pocket of some scraper would be a terrible mistake?” Alex took a breath as he prepared his final blow. “Perhaps such an incredible mistake that you may be willing to kill to cover it up?”
The squid-man didn’t have eyebrows, but somehow his tentacle face morphed in such a way that it was impossible not to take as a scowl. “What are you implying?”
Alex straightened his tie, or what was left of it anyways, and stood up. Now he was the one looming, “I’m implying that out of everyone who would have wanted Corpus dead, you were the one who had the most motive! In the dark, you could’ve shot him and stolen the ticket, or maybe you even had ARI do it for you!”
“You’re claiming some serious things, boy!” Feeling awkward that his intimidation tactic was being used against him, he stood to his feet to meet his opponent’s gaze.
“I’m just stating the obvious!” Alex felt shaky like his legs were on stilts, but he stuck with it. “You couldn’t let such a big mistake slide, especially since your father clearly doesn’t have much respect for you!”
These words struck at something deep within Vander’s core, “how dare you!”
“Come on, even you can’t believe that your father sent you out here just to keep an automated system in check, that’s something you hire someone for! No, if I were to hazard a guess, I’d say it was just to keep you out of harm's way! What happened? Have you already screwed something else up?”
Alex staggered back as Vander’s arm grew and extended from its socket. “I made one error! ONE! And now I’m stuck here in this god-forsaken place tending to damn busywork!” The boy was barely able to dodge away as the businessman’s arm came crashing down, splintering the chair into ribbons.
“Sir, may I remind you that unprovoked murder goes against the established rules of this space station?” ARI-47 chimed.
Vander’s eyes locked onto the robot as he wiped a bit of spit from his mouth. “You miserable waste of space… I have an order for you!”
“Yes sir?”
“Go to the roof.” He put blankly. “Then jump.”
The robot hesitated for a moment, but a order must be followed. “Yes sir.”
Alex watched as the robot slowly rolled away, he couldn’t help but feel he caused this to happen. Look at you, practically the master of almost getting people killed.
Vander had calmed down a bit by now and retook a seat at his desk. “Well, if you wanted to irate me, congratulations.”
With no place left to sit Alex was forced to stand, he awkwardly crossed his arms as he nodded his head.
“Now, to reply to your… accusation.” Vander now grew coldly composed; he was on to Alex’s little games. “If I killed Corpus, why would I be so interested in finding out where the ticket was? Wouldn’t I already have it, sparing me the need to speak with the likes of you?”
The boy thought for a moment. “True, but you could have been covering your tracks… or perhaps you simply didn’t take the ticket off of him? If the Janitor… did its thing with the body, no one would have the ticket and you would be in the clear.”
Vander laughed. “Don’t play games with me, I’m not a fool. If you already know where the ticket is why are you bothering…” His eyes widened; Alex knew that his ruse had finally been figured out. “You don’t know anything about the ticket… do you?”
Alex raised a hand and took a bow. “Sorry, but nope, I got nothing.”
The businessman stood to his feet, rage radiated off him like a, well, radiator. His first instinct was to call for ARI to remove the scum from his office, his second was to remember that it was too busy throwing itself off the roof. “Get out!” He screamed. “Get out before I smash in your pathetic, meaningless skull!”
Turning on his heels, Alex rushed out of the door, he didn’t need to be told twice. He came down the steps that ARI-47 had led him up before, breathing a sigh of relief knowing that he had finished his task. You still don’t have any proof. His thoughts chimed in. You haven’t accomplished a thing. His moment of silence was broken by the sound of a crash. Outside ARI-47 landed in a heap of metal that scattered like sand in a windstorm. It was clear that both of them had a lot of work left ahead of them.