Mechanical Angel

by Sara Shanning

  He only waved a hand and scoffed at her. “Alel is the only living, breathing, wonderful creation I have made who has met my expectations.” His eyes settled on her and she did not like the possessive gleam of triumph aimed at her. “I will take her out onto the streets and all will see the wonder of her and praise me for bringing such beauty into this world, and they will all know I have more power than any thought before.”

  Alel feared him in that moment. It curled in her belly and made her want to run. She realized then she was not unlike the women claimed off the Black Streets. If his intent was not to use her body, it was still to put her on display as his trophy, and for his own gain. It sickened her.

  “You cannot take her onto the White Streets,” Sir Javon admonished firmly. “She is obviously Relic. It is far too dangerous.”

  Sir Jax stood, shaking his head adamantly. “You cannot dissuade me. She is mine. Look at her! Everyone will know she belongs to me simply by looking at her face! My signature is all over her!”

  Sir Javon carefully settled his teacup back in its saucer and pushed it away. “A pretty bit of metal on her face does nothing to detract from her status as Relic. Do you mean to flaunt her? Her skin, her hair, her eyes... they may mesmerize some, but others will want her for their own, and you well know it, Sir Jax.”

  His lip curling in a sneer, Sir Jax rounded the counter, his hand trailing over the smooth slab, until he stood before Javon, who rose to face off with him. “Do you speak of yourself, Sir Javon? The man who defies many of our customs finally finds himself entranced, is that it? Would you make me an offer?”

  “I make no offer,” Sir Javon said flatly. “I am simply not afraid to question your intent, unlike the others on the White Streets. How do you mean to protect her? It is obvious they tore her apart on the Black Streets, or she would not be here with you.”

  Sir Jax regarded Sir Javon coldly. Alel slowly eased off her stool and moved to press herself back against a wall, wanting no part of whatever fight would ensue. A hard warmth covered her wrist and she looked down to see B33 at her side, the machine’s gauged eyes impossible to read.

  “I have taken precautions to see to her safety,” Sir Jax tossed at Sir Javon. “She will be well protected from any who wish to take her from me. Do you not think I don’t know her worth? She is more valuable than anyone on these White Streets can imagine!”

  Taking another step forward so they were all but touching, Sir Jax’s voice became menacing. “I need only one example to show the world what will happen to anyone who dares try. They will be torn apart and left in pieces for the birds to pick at for parts.”

  Though not directed at her, the threat heightened her fear. Alel wished for the comfort of her mother and the reassurances she would have found at her side. For the familiar stories to take her away, even if only for a little while, and make her forget the world they lived in.

  The back of Sir Javon’s coat was woven with silver threads overlying a rich, deep maroon, the panel of color blocked in. The rest of the coat was a dark gray, but she remembered the buttons being the same maroon. Color was what the White Streets did well. They had somehow retained it to be a part of their lives.

  Intricate architecture surrounded the displays of brilliance. After her first glimpse, Alel had wondered if the Black Streets had only somehow managed to retain some of the vividness, if they would have also kept some hope for a future other than what they had.

  These men, however, were no different in their hearts than others. She was but a possession, one with a price apparently, if Sir Jax determined she had one. For now, she was his trophy, until he tired of her and sold her to another. Her coloring would raise her worth, make her more appealing, just as it did for the town on this side of Piellan.

  Closing her eyes, Alel imagined a long gone cardinal soaring in the air, its wings spread wide as it enjoyed its freedom. A spot of red in a blue sky. She had had it too once, somewhat; freedom. Hadn’t she?

  Before her simple world had fallen into ashes and blackness. What exactly had happened? She tried to remember, but could not. She only remembered small things, like the color red, and flashes she did not understand.

  She had been so young. Her mother had fled with her; she knew that much. But why, she had never been told. Regaled with fairy tales, but none she had believed to be true. Had she been wrong? Had there been more truth to her mother’s narratives than she had thought?

  B33 tugged gently at her arm and Alel was only too happy to let the robot lead her from the room and the verbal sparring threatening to become more.

  “I’m not safe here, am I?” she questioned her guardian.

  His round head turned toward her and she realized his gauged eyes almost looked real somewhere behind the haze of metal covering them.

  “I will keep you safe, miss,” the robot commented.

  Did he even know what that meant or entailed? “Do you need steam, B33? I don’t know how to do that for you.” If he cared about her safety at all, she needed to make sure he remained working.

  “You needn’t concern yourself, Miss. The others will see to it. We work together to be sure we all continue to operate smoothly. For your safety.”

  Well, that was good news as it took care of one of her concerns and meant their breath, as it was, would not be a part of her daily routine. “You will continue to do so?”

  “Of course, Miss.”

  “Why are you called B33?”

  “B stands for Butler. I am the 33rd attempt.”

  “Goodness, what happened to those before you?” Alel thought of the varied other robots within the room with the children and didn’t need a response, but B33 confirmed her suspicions.

  “I was the product most pleasing to Sir Jax, and so I was placed in my position.”

  “For how long?”

  He patted her arm. “Until one more suited is made for you.” Opening her door for her, he rolled back to allow her to pass. “Please, stay here, I will come for you when it is safe.”

  His words confirmed her earlier fears. She was not safe.

  Chapter 8

  The Past Rises

  Alel was far too anxious to relax, wondering what was happening outside of her door. With nothing to do but worry, she curled up in a chair in front of one of the windows and tried to calm herself. Why had the man Sir Javon so vehemently defended her? What gain would there be in it for him?

  There was no explanation other than what she had already determined; he wanted her for himself. Sir Jax had stated it as well, but there was no doubt in her mind he did not mean to give her up.

  Somehow, she needed to learn all she could about how things were on the White Streets. Her lack of knowledge would not help her survive. Her most likely informants were those she had been tasked to care for, but Sir Jax was their creator. Would they answer her honestly? And how would Sir Jax feel knowing she was making inquiries? Would he be angry? If he had given her life, he could take it back just as easily.

  When B33 returned, he took her to the room housing the children. “Sir Jax is in his lab, and his visitor has gone. It would be best for you to remain here, with your charges, Miss.” He produced a sheet of paper, an envelope, and a pen, and held them out. “You may write down your requests and it has been promised they will be provided.”

  “Thank you, B33. Is there any chalk, by chance?” Chalk was common on the Black Streets, used to advertise and mark boundaries and warnings. Broken pieces were easily found, and Alel had often drawn on her walls as a child, the dust washed away with dirty water to create a blank space for her again.

  B33 gave her an affirmative answer and left to retrieve it. Alel greeted the children. They were together again, but seated this time in a circle. They were rolling gears between them but stopped and rose to face her.

  “B33 has told us of what happened. Sir Javon is a nice man,” Euro claimed.

  “I think he is no different than any other, and it is best to consider things cautiously.” Al
el was surprised to learn a conversation had been held.

  “He is not like the others,” Alum added.

  “Have you met him? He seemed shocked to hear about all of you.”

  They exchanged glances. Copper answered her. “We leave the room sometimes to watch. We fear Sir Jax grows tired of D.”

  “Dys?” Alel moved forward to place her hand on the boys head. “Why?”

  “He looks the least human and Sir Jax doesn’t like it.”

  “Euro, be quiet!” Alum scolded.

  Reaching out to put an arm over Alum’s shoulders, Alel looked at each of them. “It is best I know as much as I can, so I can properly protect all of you to the best of my ability. I must admit I do not feel comfortable here.”

  “Because of us?” Copper’s pretty eyes had widened. She was the only one of the children to have two human eyes and they were expressive with hurt at the moment.

  “Not because of any of you,” Alel assured them sincerely. “The argument I witnessed was distressing. I am unsure of my real purpose here.” Spying a flat piece of wood, Alel went to pick it up and put the paper on it. “Now, let us plan for your rooms while you tell me anything helpful you think I should know, about Sir Jax and the things taking place here.”

  “We do not think Sir Javon likes Sir Jax,” Euro offered, following her closely as she made her way to the corner she had chosen already for Dys.

  “He does only seem to tolerate him,” Bery added.

  “If he does not like Sir Jax, why does he associate with him?”

  “You must understand, Miss, Sir Jax is... important.” Alum shooed away a procession of rabbits that had come to cluster among their feet.

  Dys scooped a smaller bunny up, pulling a tool from his side to tighten a screw on one of the ears. “He has great power. The birds’ eyes show him what they see.”

  That bit of information Alel found disturbing. She remembered the bird who had watched her die. Had Sir Jax watched too? Was that how he had known of her existence? Unsettled, the letters she wrote on the paper ran into each other as her hands tightened on the pen.

  “His lands also supply three quarters of the ore and clean water to the town. His wealth is great and many depend on his favor for their lifestyle.”

  “He is also feared,” Dys continued after Copper had offered her part. “He is widely regarded as otherworldly due to his experiments on the dead. Rumors abound, most untrue, but enough to frighten the people so they look upon him as some kind of god.”

  He wasn’t. Alel was sure of that. “So the men who come here, such as Sir Javon? Tell me about them.”

  “It is better you stay away from them,” Alum warned. “Sir Javon will not hurt you. He has defended the inhuman creations of Sir Jax’s before, and it is not the first time they have disagreed.”

  “The others do not want good things,” Bery said. “They come for information and with money to buy material things, of course, but most often they are looking for what the birds see so they can acquire desires of the flesh.”

  Alel studied the girl. She couldn’t be much older than ten or eleven. What had her life been like before she come to be with Sir Jax? If they’d been children from the Black Streets, they would know much the same as she had, told to her for her own protection, or witnessed by her own eyes. If she had come from the White Streets, Alel knew nothing of the typical child’s upbringing.

  “Sir Javon buys material things,” Euro told her, stacking small pieces of discarded parts to make a tower. “He creates art, you see.”

  Alum nodded. “Highly sought after pieces. They are all over town. He does much of the architecture as well.”

  “People are torn on whether to like him, or not.” Dys was fiddling with an owl whose wing was lopsided now. “Half think he is a genius, the other half dislike him for his progressive ideas, as they are called.”

  “Progressive how?”

  “He speaks of ways to improve the conditions on the darker side of our world.”

  Alel was beginning to see Alum was straightforward and matter-of-fact in manner. “Do you mean the Black Streets?”

  Alum gave a single nod of her head. “We hear often of the depravity and wickedness overrunning the streets.” She paused, her head tilting, the human side with her blue eye piercing in her regard of Alel. “Although, the wickedness is here on the White as well.”

  Two of them had blue eyes, as did Sir Jax. So had Sir Javon. Blue was the most common color among the streets she had come from, too. Distracted by the observation, Alel set it aside to wonder about later to bring the conversation back to where she wanted it.

  “Would you tell me more about the world? I had not known we were on a floating continent.”

  Euro picked up a rounded metal ball, holding it up. “This was the world as it was. But, during the fall, the middle of it rose up, becoming the Higher World.” Setting the ball down, he rolled it over, revealing a hollowed out center. Crouch-walking, he grabbed a clump of ore and held it above the circle. “This is the Higher World, and what it came out of is the Lower World.”

  “I don’t understand,” Alel responded honestly. “What would cause such a thing to happen?”

  They all stared at her. “What?” she pressed.

  Alum answered, the half of her face that still depicted emotion, sober. “The Relics did, Miss.”

  Chapter 9

  Relics Lost

  “The Relics? My people?” Finding a chair, Alel set her list aside. Symbols from her mother’s stories were echoing in her mind. Clashes of light and dark, earth crumbling as mankind attempted to rise above each other, and a race of people hunted for special gifts, and then later, appearances as blood lines had been honed to only select lines.

  Like blue eyes, Alel realized, staring at Alum and Dys’s blue irises. “The Blood War was real?”

  Copper came forward to take her hand. “Yes. It is why I died, and why Sir Jax brought me back. Topaz eyes are from the Gold line. Said to have fire in our veins, strong countenance, and a capacity for leadership, our line is often granted positions of power and typically hold wealth and high status.”

  “And, Dys and I are from the Water line. Said to be intelligent, gifted, and excellent in guardianship,” added Alum.

  “And Bery, you are from the Field line, then.” The Field line encompassed the rest of colors, save green, blue, and gold. They were what made up the people on the Black Streets. Black, brown, gray, and anything in between the pure brightness of blue or gold. Green were so uncommon they were contained only by the Relic line, and were all but nonexistent anymore.

  Bery shrugged. “The Field Line so called for the unpredictable tendency to rise or fall with no strong characteristics to guide the way.” She tapped her white marble eye. “Sir Jax gave me white to set me apart. The human eye is drawn first to the brilliance of purity before it sees the lack of color in my other.”

  “The Relic, powerful and effective, with a signature of intense abilities to control, in either a dictation of good or evil,” Alel remembered hearing. It made sense, suddenly, why Relics were feared. If one could gain power by some rising of a natural need to control, and others followed with nary a protest, those with power would be afraid of them and what they could take if they chose.

  “How could the Blood War cause the division of an earthly world?”

  B33 returned, holding out a box of chalk. Alum took it, taking a piece and kneeling over the ground. She began to draw a crude picture. “It is said a powerful man saw the wickedness overcoming the world and began gathering his people, drawing them away from the things destroying the morality of mankind. The passionate personalities of the Relic bloodline seemed to find it easier to refrain from partaking in the beckoning evil, while the other lines fell prey far more easily.”

  Dys took up a piece of chalk and bent to draw in trees and water at the center of the circle Alum had drawn. His stick figures were spread out around the circle.

  “The man called his
people to the outer edges of the world, where things were decaying and the borders had begun to die from lack of care, and time. At the center of the earth, here...” Dys drew an X. “The Water, Gold, and Field lines fought. The Gold line had created a machine to create boundaries and it began to dig. They drove the beast deep into the earth.” Dys drew a monster and snaked a line in a circle within the larger.

  Copper sank to her knees at another edge, taking the chalk when Dys held it out to her. “Water was not to be outdone and they manipulated their rivers and oceans to pour into the trench, not realizing the clash of beast and water would split the earth.”

  She began to scribble out the beast’s circle. “As the water rushed into the crevice and filled it, invading more and more of the space, the earth began to tremble and split, and the Higher World, as we know it now, broke away from the Lower World and rose.”

  Euro clapped his hands together, startling Alel. He smiled at her, gleeful as he offered his part of the story. “The beast and the water fell through the hole they created and into the nothing. The Water, Gold and Field lines were all trapped on the Higher World continent, but sprinkled among them were a few Relic, separated from their line. That is how you came to be here.”

  “I do not see how they can say the split was caused by Relic when it was the beast and the water who created the separation?”

  Alum stood and dropped her chalk back into the box, dusting her hands off on her dress. “Relic gave the idea of the beast to the Gold line, and whispered to the Water to release its fury. They knew the outcome.”

  “And for that, Relic is hated?”

  Shaking her head, Alum smiled wryly. “No. Relic are feared because despite it all, the line is still considered to be the only one of purity. To possess a Relic is to have power and the highest status achievable. The legends of gifts and abilities to bring peace and harmony are long gone. Relics spark the deep feeling of hopelessness gathered around mankind’s souls, so flaunting one... it gives the sense of having something more.”