by Talis Jones
I only know three things of Maddy’s past for sure. It pertains to the phrase “lab rat” which Castor and Yosef have muttered before, whatever her past is it haunts her, and lastly, it required Yosef and I to erase her presence in the R.A. and replace it with an entirely fabricated identification, files, records, everything and all done so flawlessly as to fool any Android, human, or computer. Her false past may perhaps be our best work still.
Another whimper whips through my sensitive ears and while I’d normally reduce my hearing to provide privacy, when it comes to Maddy and her nightmares I can’t help but listen as if it somehow could be the same as holding her hand to face down her monsters together.
Once again I find myself wondering about what secrets torment her and wishing she would or could share them. At least I helped craft her new identity, something Yosef insisted would allow her to stay with us. At least I did something to help though on nights like these it does not seem nearly enough.
Not enough for the filthy, scrawny girl Castor brought back from the orphanage.
Not enough for the vibrant soul who loves music and dancing without caring if she has any talent for it.
Not enough for the girl who cringes away from violence and cries over a mouse caught in a trap.
Not enough for the girl who brings me my favorite foods when injured even though she knows I don’t need food and can easily shut off the feeling of pain from physical harm.
Not enough for the girl who took upon herself the quest of scouring the city’s bakeries, surprising me with different flavors each day until I chose a favorite cake (castella) because I’d never had the luxury of choice and she wanted to be sure I got to choose everything for a birthday I don’t really have.
Not enough for the girl who cries in the night in the face of monsters she thought long left behind.
Not enough for the girl who treats me like a person without question and turned a handful of contract killers, thieves, and cons into a family with Christmas, Sunday breakfasts, and birthday parties.
Not enough for our little beam of warm sunlight that battles darkness with her very existence just to keep us warm, keep our faces turned up.
Maddy wakes with a sharp cry and I can hear her sitting up, trying to catch her breath. Enough weak dawn light leaks through the windows that I know she will be dashing out of our home and away from her bed and her terror. She won’t want to see me. She’ll wonder if I’d heard and won’t like that I had.
With one last sweep of our cameras I deem her usual route to the docks safe then surrender the best chair in the office. Returning to my charging station I feign Sleep Mode until she can make her escape into the frigid air that will slice away any lingering fears.
I wish I could help. How long can a human suffer in silence before they disappear? I don’t normally have to worry about such things but she has made me…care. Yes, I was wrong. I do think I am capable of hate.
MADDY
Recoiling from the slightly sweat-dampened pillow, I pry myself out of bed. Even in the dim morning light my senses latch onto something and when I look out the window I catch Frocket’s face watching me in the reflection. She does that a lot. Watches. Nyx claims it’s all part of her lookout training, but it’s creepy. At least it makes her useful, I guess.
I stick my tongue out knowing she’ll catch it in the reflection and shuffle down the stairs grabbing my coat as I go. I don’t bother with skates, just shove my feet into boots and hurry out into the fresh, winter air. Belatedly I realize I left my music box at home but my brain doesn’t need it to conjure up a distraction from the screams echoing in my head.
“Ghosts fill my head and they’re whistling ‘They said’…”
Music hums from my lips until I reach my favorite little bakery knowing I frequent the place too often for them to have forgotten about the chocolate incident. The door slides open at my presence almost too quick for me to wait and my eyes close as I shudder at the warmth that hugs me inside.
“I’d hoped you’d be back again,” a voice smiles.
My spine stiffens and I slowly open my eyes. “Don’t you have anything better to do than stalk a poor little girl, Charlie?” I ask sourly. It isn’t his fault Arcas got in trouble, I remind myself.
Charlie shrugs. “More important things, perhaps, but not anything more fun.”
I ignore that with a dismissive snort and approach the counter to order a hot chocolate.
“You’re not on your strange, wheeled shoes today,” he observes.
“I decided to leave my skates at home,” I reply while paying for my drink.
He leans against the counter watching me. “You know there are such things as hover skates. No need to weigh down your feet with rust and bolts.”
“No thank you,” I sniff a touch haughtily.
Exiting the comforting aroma of the bakery for the sharp city breeze I almost growl when Charlie follows. Arcas was right; Yosef does watch us and I’ll bet Frocket snitches on my leaving the house at dawn. Yosef warned us to stay low, to keep out of all this diplomat stuff, and I’m pretty sure strolling down the street with the very diplomat himself is quite the opposite.
“Where are you off to?” Charlie asks in a way that I suspect means he just might try to tag along.
Pivoting to face him I shove a hand against his chest to stop him. “Where are you off to?”
“I haven’t any plans this morning, actually,” he grins. “Care to give me a tour?”
“I’m sorry, do you think I’m a tour guide?”
“Who wants a tour guide?” he asks. “A native at one’s side is the best way to visit any new place.”
“Be that as it may,” I answer with a healthy dose of exasperation, “I think I’d rather not.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have work to do,” I don’t lie. Nyx said she’d drop off a pile of “tools” to be cleaned.
“What kind of work?”
“Work that pays for things like food and heating,” I snap.
He looks thoughtful for a moment. “What if I paid you?”
“Excuse me?”
He raises a hand to stave off further protests. “Hear me out. I’m here as a representative from the Eurasian Union to inspect the running of the Rochester Alliance. My tour begins here and will take me to samples of this land. I know they’ll try and spin things their way so why not take advantage of this opportunity to have a real local share their perspective of life here? I’d love to gain an honest, untainted view.”
I blink at him for a moment before crossing my arms. “Where d’you ditch your babysitters?” I ask suspiciously.
“I don’t need babysitters,” he says feigning puzzlement.
“Sure. Just tell me one thing. If they find me hanging out with you will they shoot me, arrest me, fine me, or simply toss me into the harbor?”
Charlie holds onto his ignorance act for a breath then gives in with a sheepish look. “No, Maddy. I assure you should my guards cross our path, they will cause you no trouble. Now me on the other hand they might very well scold like a child.”
“Oh yeah no I don’t care about that,” I tease. “Fine, I will donate my morning to this supposedly worthy cause that pays handsomely.”
“My humble thanks,” he smiles placing one hand over his heart and giving a short bow.
“So now what?”
He shrugs. “Show me a typical day in the life of Maddy.”
“Riiiight…” I can’t believe I just agreed to reveal how boring my life is to a guy who has a gang of nations behind him. “And you are paying right?”
“Give me your arm,” he gestures impatiently with an added roll of his eyes. Removing a device from his pocket he taps the screen a few times then brushes it over my chip with a beep. “There, now no more stalling.”
“Uh, okay then.” I’m not usually the flustered-type but I sure as hell am right now. “Well I normally just go for a walk in the morning so I guess we’ll do that then…”
I sip my chocolate while we amble along the empty sidewalk in silence. When I turn us towards the docks he finally decides on something to say.
“Well it isn’t Europe,” he observes like the intelligent being he is.
“Well damn,” I sass. “All this time and I never realized.”
Charlie barks a laugh that somehow still manages to sound proper and poised. “Sorry, I just meant…well, I’ve never been across the ocean before and I suppose I’d expected something similar to home. Of course now that I’ve said it I realize that was a very small minded thing to think.”
“Well when home is all you know it’s tough to picture anything different,” I allow. “Where is home, anyway?”
“You mean you haven’t spent every spare moment since we met trying to research everything about me?” he jokes in mock offense.
“Why would I waste my time with that?” I slap back.
“I like you,” he decides. He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before answering my first question. “I was born in the region of Bosnia but spent much of my life raised in Belgium.”
“Explains the accent,” I nod as if I know.
“And you?” He sweeps his arm out gesturing across the bay. “Is this home for you?”
“More home than anywhere else has been.”
“And your parents?”
“What parents?” I answer bitterly.
“Ah.” He takes in the growing bustle around us and something about it seems to brace him. “I grew up smothered by family. Never left alone to be my self. Everywhere I went I was the son of someone, the brother of so and so, the nephew of this or that. No breather between business and family.”
“I thought you worked for the Union,” I question.
“My job is certainly that,” he confirms. “But for some family is also a business.”
“I get that,” I nod thinking about the Rolling Bones.
Draining the last drop of my hot chocolate I head towards a recycler and toss the cup in. “Wanna go ice skating?” I invite suddenly. He’d asked about my roller skates and ice skates are sort of similar. If he’s anything like Castor then he’ll look like a tap dancing baby deer and I need a good laugh.
We wander the park chatting for an hour waiting for the little outdoor rink to open. Christmas trees stand dressed and sparkling at every turn and we try to rank our favorites.
“You’re not from here, are you?” Charlie asks suddenly.
That stops me up short. “What makes you say that?”
“You take everything in with the open awe of a newcomer. Like you still can’t quite believe this is where you get to live. That it’s real.”
I look at him cautiously. “What do you know about what’s out there?” I jut my chin in the general direction away from the ocean.
“Very little,” he confesses. “The Union has an alliance and trade agreements with Rochester and no one else though the Pacific Confederation continues to try. Both your online and physical borders are shut. No one allowed in or out except for temporary visits from important dignitaries whom hold the purse strings.”
Charlie turns to survey the families wandering the park. “It’s one of the reasons I jumped at the chance to take on the job of this visit. To be honest, no one in Eurasia really knows much or cares much about what goes on over here besides a few conspiracy theorists convinced the west is plotting in hibernation. Out of sight out of mind, I suppose. I happen to be part of the curious minority. I admit I haven’t been here very long, but so far your city seems…normal. A bit distressed here and there, but you’ve recovered quite well which leads me to assume the Union’s money hasn’t been entirely mismanaged.”
“Hmm,” is all I say.
“Tell me, Maddy,” he urges quietly. “What am I not seeing?”
My eyes dart nervously around us. Even parks and trees can’t be trusted not to talk. Catching sight of the subtle glint Yosef taught me to search for I look Charlie straight in the eye then slowly shift my gaze to the little camera tucked between the pine branches. “Well you’re not paying enough attention to our lovely nature reprieves for one,” I smile sweetly. “Just look at that lovely bird perched between the needles!”
Charlie’s brow scrunches at my suddenly delighted tone before following my gaze and, after a moment, finally settles into understanding. “Well why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asks sounding equally delighted.
I bite my lip. I should’ve thought to mention it sooner. “You make it easy to forget,” I admit.
He grins at that and offers his elbow. I wrap my arm around his and we head towards the rink.
“Are there eyes everywhere?” he asks just loud enough for his whisper to reach my ear.
“Just about,” I breathe. “You don’t normally have to worry about them if you aren’t breaking any rules, but I don’t particularly relish the risk of being caught unknowingly spilling secrets to a very important potential opponent to the R.A.”
“I understand,” he accepts slowly. “But is there anything you can tell?”
The ice skating rink is within sight and I have a moment to choose. I only feel honesty from Charlie and think maybe the nations across the sea should know. Maybe they’ll use it to ignite war and claim our land, or maybe for once they’ll decide to help. The government let a foreign diplomat onto our territory and surely they understood what they risked him learning by doing so.
“I was born in the P.C., an iron-fisted, myopic little cultish hole, before fleeing into the S.C. which is a lawless, penniless hell, before entering the R.A. as a refugee where I’m fed and sheltered but watched just the same. A prettier cage, but not an awful one compared to the west,” I whisper quickly. “That is what I can tell you.”
He drinks in my words, processing them, likely attempting to conjure up a rendering of what I vaguely described. “You sure do like your acronyms over here, don’t you,” he observes dryly.
“What can I say,” I shrug. “Just another way to know the greenies from the diehards.”
I skip off to the skate rental booth and Charlie pays for our fun. I step out onto the ice in a smooth glide, relishing the cold breeze in my hair before completing a lap of the ice and waiting for Charlie. Careful to hold back my grin of anticipation at seeing this proper prince land on his ass, I lock my eyes onto his every move. He places one foot onto the ice and never before have I felt such a colossal disappointment as when he skates towards me executing a perfect triple toe loop along the way.
“It is nice to do something that reminds me of home,” he sighs.
Is it illegal to punch a diplomat in the face for ruining your day?
“I don’t think you should’ve paid me,” I realize feeling a bit uncomfortable. “You said you were paying me to explain the true inner workings of the city for research and all I did was walk you through downtown to the docks, around the park, and take you ice skating.”
“And that’s not part of the true inner workings of this city?” he challenges.
My face conveys my lack of amusement. “Don’t you want stats and budgets or something? I feel like a call girl. Or, I dunno, like you paid me to be your friend for the day and that feels kinda sad too.”
Charlie’s head falls back as he laughs. “Be that as it may, I will not accept a return of funds. I still argue that you showed me quite a bit about this city. Your commentary was at least more interesting than anything my official guides would have given me. They prefer boardrooms and holograms to real experiences. If you’d rather bury me in paperwork and statistics next time just to feel better about it then I suppose I could survive.”
“Next time?”
“Of course,” he says with his crooked smile. “I’ll give you my number and you can send me a ping to let me know when you’re free.”
“Two things,” I start. “One, don’t you have those fancy meetings to sit in? And two, I don’t have a number.”
“One, yes I do but they don’t get up until noo
n so my mornings are largely free at least until they realize I do wake up before noon. And two, how the hell do you not have a number?”
“I just don’t have one,” I say a touch defensively.
“What about that thing I’ve seen you listening to? Is that not a phone?” He pulls out his own narrow device and I wonder why he didn’t just get a neuro implant like most uppers. He certainly could afford it.
“That’s just for music and just the good stuff,” I explain.
“You really like music, don’t you?” he observes.
“How would you know?”
He coughs out a small laugh. “Well if by the way you were clawing for your headphones yesterday or the immediate humming you took up during the slightest lull in conversation is any indication…”
I thank the cold for hiding the blush I can feel clawing across my cheeks. “It’s my lifeline,” I spill and my eyes go round with the confession.
To my surprise Charlie doesn’t scoff or laugh. “How so?” he asks seemingly genuinely curious.
“It lets me be somewhere else or at least shift the “here” into something else. Like walking the streets in the dead of night isn’t as scary with a funky dance beat reminding you to stay alive,” I admit, my voice getting softer and softer. And killing enemies in a turf war isn’t as awful when it’s set to a dance track that has you tapping your feet and throwing knives to the beat, I think darkly. Yosef disapproves of my surrendering my hearing in any situation, especially dangerous ones, but it’s the only way I can do it. Without the music I simply froze until I was either attacked or hauled to safety so instead he lets me keep the music and coordinates his plans to compensate for it.
“You’re something else, Maddy,” Charlie replies just as softly. “Do you know that?”
Eight
“Eggs! I need eggs!” Castor calls out with all of the authority of kitchen commander. “Nyx, don’t you dare let the toast burn again!”
“Here’s the eggs,” I pant, fresh snow still caught in my hair.
“Thanks,” Castor manages before snatching them out of my hands. “That’s the last time I rely on KJ to buy groceries.
