Warpath by Randolph Lalonde

cleaned as often as
possible.”
    “Yes Sir, thank you
sir,” the bot replied. He would be almost convinced that she was
human, except for her perfect obedience, that was something he’d
had some difficulty inspiring with human servants in the past.
    He towelled off as he
walked into his living room, not thinking for a moment that he was
being watched.
    “Now that’s
something I’ll never un-see,” said a voice from the large
recliner in the main area of his large, lavishly furnished home above
the clouds. “You should look into the new fitness meds, I hear they
have versions that won’t trigger an allergic reaction or extreme
flatulence for cases like yours, where you’re a little over the ten
percent body fat margin.”
    “Who let you in
here?” Governor Tate asked, embarrassed, outraged and alarmed. He
ran for the door of his study, where a rack of rare weapons awaited,
only to have it close swiftly before he could grab one.
    “I’m in your
computer system, Governor,” the stranger said. “No running, no
hiding, and no sicking your poor, mistreated attendant bot on me. I’m
amazed that you’ve had her for four months and still haven’t
named her. I think I’ll call her Nancy, she looks a bit like a
Nancy to me.”
    Governor Tate wrapped
the towel around his waist, leaving his round belly hanging over. “I
don’t know who you are, but you’re in more trouble than you could
ever imagine. I’m the master of eleven inhabited worlds, and a
fleet like you-“
    “Nancy!” the
stranger cried, snapping his fingers. “Get the Governor here
something to wear, his uniform should do.” He leaned forward and
regarded Governor Tate with an impish grin. “You know who I am,
just give your grey matter a minute to work through all those faces
in all those reports. I’m somewhere near the top of the pile, I
guarantee it.”
    The man’s manner was
infuriating. He was completely dismissive of the Governor’s
position and somehow in control of everything around him, so it
seemed. There had to be a crack in the man’s armour, or a piece of
information that could help Tate out of his predicament, then this
unwelcome guest would pay for his insolence. “I don’t recall
seeing you anywhere,” he told the stranger. The man had hair down
to his shoulders, a square visage, and eerily penetrating blue eyes.
Details of his face shifted under the skin, then the lips expanded at
the corners, and the nose flattened, shortened and Governor Tate
recognized his visitor. “You are wanted for questioning in multiple
sectors,” he said, calming down. It was Wheeler, a man with a
fleeting relationship to the Order of Eden at best. “Not to
mention, you’re still technically the property of Regent Galactic.”
    “So, your war torn
toy is here,” he replied, sitting back in the chair as he watched
the helper bot deliver a dark green uniform to the Governor. “You
Regent Galactic people get a real twist in your knickers when your
technology grows a mind of its own. You know how to make us look good
though, I’ll admit.”
    “I’ll never trust
this one again,” the Governor said as he pulled his trousers on.
“It took five months for the fabrication centre to get her just
right, but now that you’ve been in her head….”
    “Then I’ll take
her. I’m sure you can have something else made,” Wheeler replied.
“Maybe something with a more human shape. The ultra slim models
never really look human, do they?”
    “What makes you think
you’ll walk out of here with anything? Even your freedom is a long
shot at this point. I don’t care that you’re a murderer, or that
you may have had something to do with the leadership changes at the
top.” Governor Tate told him. He only needed to know who his
visitor was so he could read the situation and find his footing.
Wheeler was a destructive force, even when he failed in his mission
there was some kind of wreckage left in his wake. Even still, the
only reason why Wheeler