EL PARAÍSO RESORT, UR
Compared to the previous evening, the morning felt rather subdued. Maybe it was simply too early for excitement, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that nearly half the group was absent. Aki02 and Rho took off shortly after sunrise to hike one of the resort’s scenic trails. Selena wasn’t feeling well and had decided to rest indoors.
At least, those were the official stories. Luna had a sneaking suspicion there was more to it than that. No one would admit it, of course, but she had heard rumors of an argument. Specifically, between Selena and Rho. What it entailed, Luna didn’t know. And quite frankly, she didn’t care. Her only concern was paying back Marten and Charmie for splashing her in the pool, and she’d already accomplished that goal. Her next mission was discovering the contents of Delfoy’s mystery bag, the one he kept with him at all times and wouldn’t let her see.
The one currently sitting underneath his lounge chair.
Luna crept along the row of bushes, careful to stay hidden from view. Her feet were small and her sandals weren’t particularly loud. Even so, she made every effort to remain undetected. She was practically crawling on her hands and knees. Progress was slow, but Luna was patient. She took it one half-sized step at a time.
Eventually she reached her destination.
Time for a little recon, she decided. Pushing aside a pair of palm fronds, Luna snuck a peek at her surroundings. It was the same heavenly view she’d come to expect: lounge chairs, straw umbrellas, tiki torches, and tropical flowers galore. There weren’t many people at the pool that early, maybe a dozen in total. Four were members of her own group. To her left, Marten and Charmie pretend-battled each other with bamboo sticks. Directly in front of her, not two meters away, Delfoy and Dr. Rauth were engaged in their own form of battle. More specifically, a game of ARKS chess. Delfoy pressed a few buttons on the keypad in front of him. On the game board, a small holographic figure walked three spaces diagonally to the right, pulled out a holographic rifle, and shot another small holographic figure standing there.
“Hah!” Delfoy proclaimed in triumph. “My Ranger just took out your Force. What are you gonna do now, old man?”
In response, Rauth tapped a few buttons of his own. A figure on the other side of the board walked several spaces ahead and stopped. Rauth sat back and crossed his arms, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Checkmate.”
Delfoy’s jaw dropped in astonishment. He studied the game board with the intensity of a predatory animal, eyes flicking back and forth, hoping he could prove the doctor wrong. Hoping to spot a move, a strategy, or a piece that had been overlooked.
But no. Rauth was right, the game was over… and Delfoy had lost. Again.
“One more round,” the Newman pleaded. “We’ll go best of five, what do you say?”
“You’d have to win three straight to get best of five,” Rauth pointed out, adding, “Not that I don’t enjoy the beating you, but I think I’ve had enough friendly competition for one morning. I was actually thinking of taking a break for a while. Maybe I’ll work on the Clo-bot and finish ironing out the bugs in its programming.”
Delfoy grunted. “Heh. Fine, if you must. But this isn’t over! I’ll be back for a rematch later.”
“Suit yourself.”
While they were busy chatting, Luna was busy sneaking closer to their table. Both men were facing away from her. Neither one noticed her approach. Luna tiptoed as quietly as she could, trying hard not to make a sound. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. She was almost there. Only one more meter to go. Delfoy’s bag was almost in reach…
“Hey!” Marten exclaimed loudly.
Luna froze in place, horrified. She was about to say something, then realized the boy wasn’t talking to her at all. He was talking to Rauth.
“Did you say you’re gonna work on the Clo-bot?” Marten asked the doctor.
“I was thinking about it, yes.”
“Me an’ Charmie will get it for you!”
“That’s alright, I’m perfectly capable of—”
“Please! We, um, really wanna help!”
“Well, if you insist.” Rauth pulled a plastic, rectangular card out of his pocket. “Here’s the key to my condo. The Clo-bot is on the table in the bedroom.”
“Thanks!” Marten greedily snatched the key from Rauth’s hand. Grabbing Charmie by the wing, he raced out of sight.
“What was
that about?” Delfoy wondered aloud.
Rauth shrugged. “I have no idea. But if he wants to help that badly, I won’t stop him.”
A pause.
“And just what do you think
you’re doing?” Delfoy demanded.
Rauth was confused. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Doc. I was talking to the
little pink-haired thief crawling around under my chair.”
Luna froze again. Her right arm was outstretched, fingertips mere centimeters from Delfoy’s bag. Caught in the act.
Busted, she thought glumly.
The support partner hopped to her feet and dusted herself off. “Oh… heh, heh. Hey!” she said, feigning ignorance. “There was… a thing under your chair.”
Delfoy narrowed his eyes and crossed him arms, clearly unconvinced. “A thing, huh?”
“Yeah! There was, um… a bee! I didn’t want him to sting you, so I scared him away.”
“Oh, is that right?”
“Definitely,” Luna insisted. “He’s gone now, though. Problem solved! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way…”
The support partner whistled innocently and strolled away. Delfoy watched her go, silently shaking his head the whole time.
* * * * * * * * *
There were two bedrooms in Rauth’s condo. The first was nearly pristine—immaculate bedsheets, empty trashcan, a single black suitcase resting comfortably in the corner. Clearly the room belonged to Aki02 and Rho. CASTs had no need for human considerations like sleep and clothing, after all.
The second bedroom was much more promising. Rumpled bedsheets? Check. Used towel thrown over a chair? Check. And most importantly, sitting prominently atop the room’s only table, Marten spotted the thing he was looking for: Dr. Rauth’s clothing robot, the Clo-bot.
Charmie chirped a question.
“What do you mean, why?” Marten replied. “I told you, we gotta get Luna for scaring us last night. She tricked us an’ made us look stupid! That’s why we’re gonna scare her back. We’ll get her even better than she got us!”
He picked up the metallic blue robot and examined it with both hands. It was a squat, cylindrical thing, with a claw-like arm protruding from each side of its canister body.
Charmie chirped another question.
“How are we gonna scare her? Using the Clo-bot, duh! Remember what Dr. Rauth told us yesterday? You can tell this thing to pick up stuff besides clothing. ‘Pretty much anything,’ he said. All we hafta do is tell it to pick up Luna. It’ll chase her around and she’ll run off screaming. Great idea, right?”
More chirps, less enthusiastic in tone.
“A bad feeling? C’mon, it’ll be hilarious! We’ll return the Clo-bot after we’re done. The doctor won’t even know.”
Marten flipped a switch on the bottom of the robot, then set it on the floor. After a moment, the Clo-bot hummed to life. Its sensor “eye” began glowing a deep shade of red.
“Aw, this is so cool!” Marten exclaimed.
Charmie posed another question, slightly concerned.
“Yeah, I know the doctor said it wasn’t finished yet. But look! It works fine.” To the robot, Marten said, “Clo-bot, pick up that towel over there.”
The Clo-bot emitted a little musical chime—its way of acknowledging the command. With a hum, it puttered across the bedroom floor until it reached the nearest chair, the one with the towel draped over it. A shiny silver arm extended upward. Its claw-like pincer opened, rotated to the correct angle, and closed around the towel. Quick, efficient movements. One yank and the towel fell off the chair. A slot on the side of the robot opened up. The towel was inserted and the slot closed up again.
Marten watched the display with growing eagerness. He was practically brimming with excitement. “See? I told you, Charmie. This is gonna be awesome!”
The bulb-headed bird shrugged in resignation.
“Okay, Clo-bot, now I want you to pick up Luna.”
It didn’t respond, so Marten tried again. “Clo-bot, pick up Luna.”
The robot just sat there, staring up at him with its single red sensor. It emitted a negative-sounding beep. Translation:
Does not compute.
Marten scratched his head. How could he explain it more clearly? “Luna, um… has long pink hair an’ two little horns, like this.” He used his index fingers as a visual aid. “You get it now?”
The Clo-bot didn’t get it. It sat in place and beeped another negative.
“Luna’s a person, like me, but she’s also a robot, like you. Just more advanced. She looks like an adult, ‘cept she’s my size on account of being a support partner and all. I want you to find her an’ pick her up like you did with the towel.”
No reaction.
“Like me, but with pink hair and horns,” Marten repeated. He pointed to himself to emphasize the point. “Like me, okay? You got it?”
Still nothing. The Clo-bot wouldn’t budge.
“Clo-bot, I order you find Luna and pick her up right now!”
The robot finally sprang into action. But instead of going after Luna, it charged straight at Marten. Rammed right into him and knocked him over. It’s easy to throw off a person’s sense of balance, especially when you hit them in the ankles. It’s even easier when you catch them by surprise.
Marten went down with an
oomph and a
thud. Landed completely flat on his stomach. His brain was still processing the situation when the Clo-bot came at him again. This time, however, it wasn’t interested in his balance. Instead it robbed him of something else—his swimming trunks. By the time Marten realized what was happening, the Clo-bot had yanked the trunks clean off and deposited them safely in its innards. Then it sped off, tiny wheels whirring. Out of the room, down the hall, out of sight.
“H-Hey, come back! Those are mine!” Marten shouted, jumping to his feet.
Nearby, Charmie was clucking with laughter.
“Not funny,” the boy pouted. He was about to give chase when Charmie stopped him. “You’re right,” he replied, “I probably need some clothes, huh? Selena would get mad if I went outside like this.”
Glancing around, his eyes fell upon Rauth’s luggage. Specifically, a pair of suitcases propped against the far wall. One black, the other brown. Marten tried the black suitcase first. No luck. It was filled with tools, gadgets, and a tablet computer. The brown suitcase was what he wanted. Aside from a few assorted toiletries, it contained a weekend’s worth of clothing. Shirts, pants, socks, the essentials. Mixed in among the clothes was a spare bathing suit. Marten pulled it out and tried it on. It was a few sizes too large, but he remedied that by cinching the drawstring tight and tying it in a knot.
“There, problem solved,” he declared triumphantly. “Now c’mon, we gotta catch that Clo-bot!”
* * * * * * * * *
Their first mistake, they soon realized, was leaving the front door open when they entered the condo. Thanks to that, the Clo-bot was now on the loose. How could they find a single robot in a large, crowded resort? It was a tough question. Luckily, an answer soon presented itself. An answer in the form of a woman’s high-pitched scream.
Marten and Charmie looked at each other. They nodded in unison.
When in doubt, follow the screams.
* * * * * * * * *
Outside, the boy and bird hurried down the walkway. Along the way they passed half a dozen people in various stages of undress. One man was missing a shoe. A woman was missing her skirt. Further along, a man was hiding in the bushes—presumably, he was missing everything entirely.
The Clo-bot was clearly living up to its name. But instead of picking up discarded clothing, it was literally stealing the shirts off people’s backs. Most likely it would continue doing so until somebody stopped it. Marten didn’t know how to accomplish that. All he knew is that he was going to be in big, big trouble when Selena found out.
If she found out. There was still a chance he and Charmie could stop this before it got too far. Maybe.
Another scream led the duo to an outdoor café. They arrived just in time to see the Clo-bot speeding off in the other direction, a straw hat caught in its grip. The owner of the hat, an elderly man with leathery skin and wispy gray hair, was sprawled on his rear end. He had a surprised look on his face and an ice cream cone in one hand. The ice cream itself—an entire scoop of mint chocolate chip—had tragically fallen to the ground. It lay there slowly melting, a casualty of the Clo-bot’s merciless rampage.
Marten glanced around the café. He spotted no less than three other people missing articles of clothing. They all shared the same bewildered expression, like they couldn’t believe what just happened. This was supposed to be their vacation, a time for rest and relaxation, yet they’d been robbed of their clothing—and, in some cases, their dignity as well.
How could this happen to me, they all thought to themselves. Surely life wouldn’t be so cruel!
“My hat!” wailed the old man. “My beautiful, priceless, antique hat!”
“Sorry,” Marten mumbled as he waded through the crowd. He had to catch the Clo-bot before it could wreak any more havoc.
Halfway to the exit, he realized Charmie was no longer beside him. Marten turned back… only to discover his friend slurping half-melted mint chip ice cream off the floor. “Hey!” he cried, grabbing Charmie by the wing. “We don’t have time for snacks right now!”
The bird took one last lick, grunted in reluctant acceptance, and followed along.
* * * * * * * * *
Their next stop was the gym, then the tennis courts, then the picnic tables. Each time they were just a little too late. A little too slow. Everywhere they went, half-naked people were scrambling to conceal themselves. The Clo-bot was simply too quick for them.
Eventually they reached the worst place imaginable: the swimming pools. There were four large pools and four hot tubs in close proximity. Dozens of swimsuit-clad vacationers. Some were swimming, some were lounging, some were out for a morning stroll. All completely unaware of the danger in their midst. Each one, a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen.
Once again Marten and Charmie were too late. By the time they arrived, half a dozen victims were already screaming and shouting and scurrying for the nearest towel to cover up. The boy and bird ran past them without slowing down. They had to find the Clo-bot, and fast. But where was it?
Their question was answered when a man shouted, “Keep those grabby mitts to yourself, you overgrown toaster!”
But not just any man. Marten cringed when he realized who it was: Delfoy. At that moment, the green-haired Newman was locked in an epic struggle for possession of his swimming trunks. He was trying to pull them up; the Clo-bot was trying to pull them down. It was hard to tell who was winning.
Just then, three things happened simultaneously. First, a sharp tearing sound cut through the air. Second, Delfoy’s trunks split down the side, ripping the back half off completely. And third, Delfoy lost his balance, stumbled backwards, and fell into the pool with an anguished cry. The Clo-bot claimed its prize—half a pair of green swimming trunks—and sped off in search of its next target.
Marten and Charmie followed after it. Around the pool, past a hot tub, down a stone path lined with shrubbery. They ended up at another pool, one slightly smaller and more isolated than the last. A lone figure was sitting at the pool’s edge. Short, female, with a floral print swimsuit and flowing pink hair.
Wait… pink hair? Marten did a double take. Yep, it was Luna, alright. The little support partner sat on the lip of the pool, legs dangling freely over the side. She was gently stirring the water with her cream-colored feet, completely relaxed. Oblivious.
Luna’s back was turned to them. She didn’t see the Clo-bot heading straight for her like a laser-guided missile. Marten was about to call out, to warn her, then stopped himself. Wasn’t this exactly what he wanted? Exactly what he had told the Clo-bot to do? After scaring him and Charmie the night before, Luna was overdue for some payback. He decided to wait and let the situation play out.
The Clo-bot rushed forward without stopping, without even slowing down. Luna never heard it coming. In one swift motion, the Clo-bot snagged the string to her bikini top… and yanked the whole thing off.
Luna let out a surprised yelp. Flailing wildly, she dropped face-first into the pool. There was a loud splash, and then… silence. Complete and utter silence. The concentric ripples on the surface gradually died away as the water restored its natural equilibrium. It was as though the pool had swallowed Luna whole, never to release her.
Except it did. A long moment later, Luna shot out of the water like a pink-haired cannonball. She landed near the spot she’d previously been sitting, her whole body drenched to the core, one arm covering her bare chest. A ridiculous sight, but Luna wasn’t laughing. There was nothing but blind fury in her eyes. When she spotted Marten and Charmie, those eyes widened in disbelief.
“
You!!” It was a statement, an accusation, and a condemnation all in one. Luna hadn’t seen the Clo-bot zip past before. She thought Marten was responsible for what happened—which he was, indirectly, but that was beside the point. The point was, Luna looked ready to snap somebody in half—and that somebody was Marten.
The boy had no doubt she could do it, too. Despite being shorter and narrower than him, Luna was stronger than most grown-ups. At least, the flesh and blood kind. In thirteen arm wrestling matches with Delfoy, Luna hadn’t lost a single one. Clearly she was capable of dispensing punishment when needed.
Of course, just because she
could didn’t mean she
would. The support partner could be temperamental, but Marten didn’t think she would actually harm a child. She was a troublemaker, yes, but a troublemaker with a good heart.
At least, he hoped so. “I-I, uh… that is, it wasn’t…,” the boy stammered, trying to force the words out.
Ironically he was spared by the real culprit. The Clo-bot darted between them at high speed, Luna’s bikini top still clutched in its metal pincer.
“H-Hey!” Luna cried. “Give that back, you thieving little perv!”
She immediately took off in hot pursuit of the errant robot. It was quite a scene to behold: a half-naked support partner chasing after a wheeled, crab-like machine, one stuffed full of stolen clothing. Round and round the pool they went, never stopping, never slowing down. Luna got angrier and angrier the longer it dragged on. So angry, in fact, she started hurling bolts of Zonde lightning at the Clo-bot.
There was only one problem: she wasn’t using her rod. Without a catalyst to focus her Techniques, Luna’s blasts were erratic and poorly aimed. Lightning bolts went flying in all directions, sending people diving for cover. One blast struck a palm tree, which burst into flames. Another blew up a nearby table. A third knocked down a power line. There was chaos and mayhem everywhere. Sparks and flames a-flying. Yet somehow, the Clo-bot managed to dodge it all.
The commotion attracted Delfoy, who had replaced his torn swimming trunks with a towel. Spotting Marten and Charmie, he jogged over to them. “Hey, what are you two doing here?” he asked. “And what the heck’s going on? This place looks like a war zone!”
“Uhhh… well…”
Before Marten could finish, Luna came charging straight at them. Instead of chasing the Clo-bot, this time it was chasing
her!
“Move! Move! Move! Outta the way!” she screamed, one arm waving for attention. The other arm was still clasped tight over her chest.
Instead of moving aside, the entire group—Delfoy, Marten, Charmie, and Luna—ended up running together as one big pack. The Clo-bot was hot on their heels.
“Why are we running?” Delfoy inquired.
“Because I’m all out of juice!”
“Juice?”
“Photon energy!” Luna cried impatiently. “I’m fresh out. Bone dry. And perv-bot back there wants to steal the last of my modesty!”
“You had modesty to begin with?”
“Har har,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I may be small, but I’m still a woman. I do have
some decency, you know!”
So they ran. They ran until they couldn’t run anymore. Not because they were tired, but because they managed to get themselves cornered. To their left, a solid wall of shrubbery. To their right, a chain link fence. And directly behind them, a storage shed with a padlocked door.
They were stuck. Trapped with nowhere to go. The four of them turned to face their attacker. The Clo-bot eased forward, pincer hands snapping open and shut with a menacing
clank, clank, clank.
Marten gulped. He had gotten them into this mess. Could he get them out of it?
TO BE CONTINUED
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