SoylentNews

Previously...

Destiny
                The maid woke me up about noon. I hate that damned thing, always noisy as hell. Why does it have to clean at noon?
                "Coffee," I growled. A couple of minutes later a table with a cup of coffee on it rolled to me. Why are those damned things so slow? Anyway, I don't know why I'm putting this in my report except I don't want to get in trouble for leaving anything out.
                I took a shit and drank another cup of coffee.
                I switched on the video and turned to the news. Tornadoes, floods, fires, shootings, robberies, political corruption, some bullshit about the Martian terraforming project that's been going on for a hundred years... Why do they call it "news"? It's never new, it's the same shit all the time. Bored, I switched through the channels. Shit, all boring. I'll get a beer. So I locked up the boat and hailed a taxi with my fone and went to the nearest bar, which was five miles away. Why ain't there no bars near spaceports, I wondered. It was like that everywhere.
                I sat down and ordered a beer. "I'm sorry, sir," the bartender said, "but this says you're underage."
                "What? Christ, lady, I'm forty five!"
                "Well, this says 'underage', no ID carried."
                "Shit," I said, and got out my fone and turned on GPSID. "Try it again."
                "OK," she said, "It worked that time." I checked my balance - wow, beer wasn't cheap here.
                "Hi, Captain."
                "Huh," I said, startled. "Oh," I said, seeing who it was. "The woman that wanted on my boat. Gonna buy me a drink, lady?"
                "The name's Tamatha. You can call me Tammy. If I buy you a drink are you going to let me on?"
                "Nope."
                "Buy your own booze, loser."
                "Fuck you," I retorted. "I ain't cheap like you droppers."
                "I told you, I want to get away from that shit. That's why I haven't gone home, even though I really, really want to. Come on, please, I'll fuck you all the way to Mars!"
                I laughed. "Yeah, you and two hundred other hookers."
                "You're an asshole," she said.
                "So what, cunt," I replied. "Get outta my face."
                "What did you call me?" she demanded.
                "Are you good for anything but putting a dick in?" I asked.
                "OOOOH!!" She shouted, and stomped off. I got another expensive beer. Damn, I should have had the taxi take me to a cheaper part of town, even if the fare would have been more. I guess I could have took the bus, but hell, I got money, I don't need no bus.
                A blonde sat down next to me. "Hi," she said. "I overheard, why did she call you captain? Are you on the Mars boat?"
                "Yeah," I said. "Why?"
                "I'm going to Mars."
                "Yeah? That's what she said. She's not on the manifest."
                "I am."
                "Yeah?" I said, pulling out my fone and checking out the manifest. Of course, as soon as I activated it her face and information was shown. "Why, pleased to meet you, uh..." I glanced at the manifest, "Destiny. Is that your real name?"
                She giggled. "Yeah, it is. Buy you a drink, Captain?"
                "Call me John," I said, shaking her extended hand. "So why do you want to go to Mars?"
                "I want to see what it's like to be a hooker."
                I choked on my beer; women kind of fuck my brain up sometimes. "Huh?"
                "I want to experience everything!"
                She grabbed my crotch. "No charge for you," she said before locking lips with me.
                Wow. I was really looking forward to this trip!
                My boat's really a houseboat. I'd lied to that Tammy woman, it's my boat. I usually only live in it when I'm on-planet; it won't go farther than the moon in any reasonable amount of time, and I live on the company's Captain's Quarters when I'm working. Lots nicer than my houseboat. The company pays me to ferry passengers to their boat, in orbit. A second stage to hold a couple hundred passengers is pretty cheap, it's just a tube with gravity harnesses installed.
                I'd had a wonderful time! I really liked Destiny. Smart, funny, and damned good looking.
        We shared a taxi to my boat, and there were twenty women waiting when we got there. I had to check them all in. "Sorry, Destiny," I said. "You can drop by my quarters when I'm done here."
                "No," she said, and winked. "You can come to mine."
        "Uh, your cabin's in orbit. This isn't the ship, this is just a rocket underneath a harness tube underneath my houseboat. The ship itself's in orbit waiting for us. Just take the elevator to my boat, when we take off you can use a harness there, you don't have to ride in the tube."
                The fucking women just wouldn't stop coming, and most of them acted horny, a sure sign they were high on drops. Most of them hit on me, none too subtly.
                This was going to be a good trip! At least, if I could get all those whores inside the boat. No sooner than I'd start walking to my quarters the damned bell rang. It kept up all weekend. Finally, maybe midnight Sunday, I got what I thought was going to be eight hours sleep. I'd had maybe four all weekend.
                I got two more before the doorbell rang. It was that damned Tammy. "You ain't getting' in. Now go away before I call the cops" I said.
                "Check your manifest."
                I checked it. "You aren't on it."
                "Look at the passengers list."
                Passengers? Huh? Ok, I checked. Damn, she was there. I unlocked the airlock. "17 C", I said, and went to my cabin.
                I got some sleep, finally... an hour later. I really like Destiny!

This crude, rough draft has been edited from /.'s crude, rough draft and is slightly bigger. This story is now Soylent's fiction. Hey, that's better than sy-fy, isn't it? Continues...

I'm Retireded!
Today was my last day of work. I haven't felt like this since I got out of the Air Force! In the words of Martain Luther King and doubtless countless freed slaves after the civil war, "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty, I'm free at last!"

It took four years to write Nobots. I might publish two more this year. Freedom!