Here's another post taken from my most recent novel and first space opera, Galaxy Rand:
I gave the damned-cocky bot a scornful snort and decided, just for the hell of it, to challenge him. "Since you think you're so bloody clever, go ahead. Try and guess what I do!"
I sat back with my arms folded across my chest and waited to be entertained at his expense.
At first Blackie didn't say a damn thing, then he started ticking off clues faster than a fleggin computer could kick out a stream of data!
"You work alone. You are accustomed to finding yourself in dangerous situations. You own this fast-ship and, therefore, must have--or have had at one time--a fair amount of credits at your disposal. You are highly skilled in the use of weapons, as well as in hand-to-hand combat. You often find yourself at odds with the ISF. You have an extraordinary number of enemies of low class and low morals, including many of the criminal element."
Without pausing so much as a fraction of a microsecond, he kept rattling off facts: "You travel frequently and at a moment's notice, and are--at least on occasion--pursued. And as I have observed, your ship is equipped with a tractor-arm, which is definitely not standard equipment. Therefore, I venture to say that you, Rand, are in all likelihood a recoup agent."
My lower jaw dropped so damned fast it almost bounced off Jammer's deck. Soon as I could get a word out, I demanded, "How in bloody hell did you guess?"
"My astute deduction, rather, was a simple process of logical reasoning, based upon our recent experiences and conversations. This information, combined with the deplorable appearance of your vessel as compared with its remarkable speed and accouterments, as well as all available data regarding human occupations in this sector of the galaxy, led me to one inescapable conclusion."
Instead of admitting I now had a grudging respect for the bot's reasoning abilities, I stubbornly shook my head. "Huh! Just a lucky guess, I'd say."
"Not at all, madam. In fact, I do not believe in the existence of luck."
I bristled. "Thought I told you to ditch that madam crap!"
"Very well, if that form of address offends you--although I hardly see why---"
I leaned in close to the bot. To get my point across, I poked my right index finger into his metal chest--hard! Note to self: don't pull that dumb-ass stunt again; it hurt like hell!
Hope you enjoyed reading this. You can see more on www.amazon.com. Questions and comments are always welcome!
Keep reading and keep on writing,
MRTighe
