A Fistful of Trouble (Outlaws of the Galaxy Book 2), Paul Tomlinson [bts books to read .txt] 📗

their wares in a line of temporary stalls put up in front of the council house. For ten dollars you got a small table with a big umbrella over it where you could present your bottled fruits, home-cooked pies, or jewellery that looked like it had been designed by a five-year-old. On either side of the row of stalls were larger pitches that cost twenty dollars. You could pull your own cart or truck into one of these spaces and sell straight off the back of it. Danny had lined up his half-dozen robots in one of the twenty-dollar spots. I’d told him I’d pay the pitch fee when Floyd was sold. I wasn’t convinced he’d be selling any of his other robots and I didn’t want him to be out of pocket. I’d also said that I’d pay him for the additional repairs on Floyd. And the new head.

I think everyone in town who wasn’t selling in the market place was there as a customer. It was the first time I’d seen more than a roomful of them. And Danny’s robots were drawing a lot more interest than I had expected. Wives dragged their husbands over to look at them. I suppose a domestic robot is still seen as a status symbol, even in a town where people don’t like robots. Children wandered over to stare up at the robots, perhaps viewing them as super-sized toys.

“Good crowd,” I said.

“Better than usual,” Danny said. “But most of them are just here to get a look at Floyd.”

We’d stood the big robot at the end of the row and slightly behind so that the people had to pass the cheaper robots on their way down to look at him and again on their way back.

“How many do you normally sell?” I asked.

“Market’s every Monday,” he said. “I sell one robot every other month or thereabouts.”

He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told me business was slow.

“How did your uncle stay in business for so many years?”

“Things were different then,” Danny said. “It was before Mayor Brennan and Colonel Hodge began their feud. There were more folks in the county and more of them kept robots.”

“What are they feuding about?” I asked.

“Have you met the Mayor’s wife?”

“Pattie?”

Danny nodded. “Colonel Hodge was sweet on her since he was a boy. But she married Brennan.”

“The two of them have been feuding over that for the last twenty years?”

“That sounds about right,” Danny said.

“That’s a long time to hold a grudge.”

“They fight about other things too. The Colonel was mayor of Cicada City for a long time. He’s never forgiven the townsfolk for voting Brennan in to replace him.”

“Brennan seems an even-tempered fellow,” I said.

“According to my father, Colonel Hodge used to be like that too. He just grew more bitter as the years passed. He became more reclusive too – holed up in his place outside town. People down here hardly ever saw him. That’s why they voted for Brennan in the end. He lives in town.”

Danny went off to talk to a couple about a small bronze-coloured robot that carried the lowest price tag.

I watched a tall, elegant older lady stride into the market square. The skirt of her dark purple and black dress was made up of multiple tiers and even to my untutored eye, it looked expensive.

“Madam Fifi,” Danny said, reappearing at my side. He hadn’t made the sale.

“She’s coming this way,” I said.

“Hello, Danny,” she said. Miss Fifi’s accent wasn’t local, but I couldn’t place it. “Who’s your new friend?”

“Quin Quigley,” I said. “Good to meet you.”

She smiled. “I’ve heard a good deal about you. Your shenanigans last night sent a lot of breakfast trade my way. I’d hoped you might join us so that I could say thank you.”

“Perhaps I’ll stop by for dinner this evening.”

“Do that. I’ll save a seat for you at my table. It will be a relief to chat with someone who has new stories to tell.”

“Some of mine are even true,” I said.

“I’ll bet they are,” she said. Her eyes lingered on me as she turned towards Danny. “Now, young man, show me what you’ve been working on. I need something to clean the place up. My robot vacuum cleaner exploded in a cloud of dust.”

“You have to empty them occasionally,” Danny said.

“I’d heard that somewhere,” Madam Fifi said, taking his arm and leading along the line of robots.

“Send it over to the shop and I’ll have a look at it,” Danny said.

I thought his sales technique needed work. He should have been selling her a robot, not offering to fix her cleaner. But a few minutes later I watched them shake hands on a deal. Madam Fifi was the new owner of the most modern-looking – and expensive – robot Danny had for sale. Maybe there was more to this selling business than I knew.

I saw a gaggle of the Colonel’s stooges making their way around the market. Deke, the one with the squint, and three others were elbowing people aside, talking loudly, and giggling like schoolboys. They helped themselves to apples from the grocer’s stall, took one bite out of them, and then hurled the fruit to try and knock people’s hats off. They obviously regarded themselves as immune from discipline. I fought the urge to tell robot-Floyd to go and smack each of them up the side of the head.

Danny was grinning when he came back towards me.

“You made a sale,” I said.

“She’s my best customer.”

“You ever repaired her sexy robot girl?” I asked.

“I service all of her robots,” Danny said. “She doesn’t just have girls there, you know.”

I didn’t tell him that I’d never seen a sex robot up close – because I didn’t think he’d believe me. I’ve always been curious. But never that curious.

“You ever tried one of them out?” I asked.

“I’ve never had to go to a robot for that,” he said. Seeing him standing there with the sun shining down on his golden hair, I knew that