Clockwork Villains

by T. J. Lockwood

  I nod. “If you say so.”

  Sasha lets out a deep breath. “Today is July first.”

  The silence intensifies. Six months? It doesn’t feel like that much time has passed. I start fiddling with my hands.

  Robbie sees the habit and reacts. “Piper, just breathe. I’m right here.”

  He’s talked me through these moments many times before, but this is the first time I feel him right next to me. He’s not just a voice, he’s a person, and right now all I want is for him to keep telling me to breathe.

  13

  THE HACKER'S ARRIVAL

  “TIME IN THE MAINFRAME IS ALWAYS TRICKY TO CALCULATE. Depending on size and processing speed, a day can feel like a few seconds or hundreds of hours. Most times it’s the latter, though.” Sasha snaps her fingers and a pitcher of water appears with several mugs on a small table between us.

  Robbie adjusts his glasses. “We think you were kept in storage for a while before you they activated your code in RigMire.”

  I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry—how long exactly?”

  Sasha pours herself some water. “Probably up until three days ago. That’s when Robbie and I found your signal.”

  I pause. “Look, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but who are you, exactly?”

  She leans back in her seat. “I was travelling with... some people and I got left at the side of the road. Came across MagHaven, but the city was pretty barren. I scavenged for a while before stumbling into here and finding Robbie. I was lucky; I’m not really good at taking care of myself.”

  Robbie shrugs. “I think you’re getting better. At least now you know how to use a can opener.”

  I smile. “I’m sorry, what?”

  Sasha looks away. “Hey, that’s not fair. I used to have someone who did those kinds of things for me.”

  I pour myself some water. “Must have been nice.”

  She shakes her head. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I’m joking, kid. You gotta lighten up.” I’m not very convincing. I bet she can see right through the anxiety I’m trying to hide.

  Robbie leans forward. “It’s been tough, but we made it. Everything is going to be alright.” An audible ding goes off. “Excuse me, please.”

  I watch as Robbie fades from his seat, leaving both Sasha and I to sit in relative silence. She looks so young and yet she can manipulate all of this with ease. It’s people like that who fit in well in RigMire. She takes another drink of water.

  “Does that do anything?”

  She pauses. “What do you mean?”

  I lean forward. “This isn’t real, right? Anything you consume here doesn’t affect your body.”

  She nods. “Yeah, it’s more a habit. Food for thought, I guess? I can consume anything here and it doesn’t affect my body.”

  “Where is your body, exactly?”

  “Still in the kitchen. We’ve only been in here for a few seconds.”

  In that moment, everything flickers. Sasha drops her mug and everything goes dark.

  “Sasha?” I reach out, but there is nothing.

  “I’m not sure what’s happening.” Her voice sounds like it is degrading to static.

  A loud crash echoes as the space lights up again. She’s gone, and I feel my heart pounding at the thought of being alone.

  Every second feels longer than it actually is. Time is different here.

  My brain was not built for all of this. I’ve been thrust into the heart of a tech world with a guide I can only open sometimes and friends who could easily leave me in the dust. I don’t have any problems with being alone, but a lot of the time it’s like I’m being abandoned.

  How do I open that keyboard everyone seems to have?

  I snap my fingers, clap my hands together, and even try to concentrate on what I want, but the thing doesn’t appear. Where did my program guide go? I begin a semi-frantic search, but my pockets are empty and the last time it was in my hands was when I snapped it and returned to the kitchen.

  Suddenly I see it, there in my hand at the base of my thumb is the picture of a rook. It’s like a small tattoo etched into my skin. I rub my finger over it and am startled by a very audible ping.

  The keyboard appears in front of me and suddenly the room looks just a little bit different—as if the walls, the floor, all of it were made up of tiny numbers.

  I press the enter key. It feels like a real keyboard; the click and travel are almost identical. Everything turns red each time I press enter.

  At least this is progress. I still have no idea what I’m doing, though.

  “The conduit is the property of the Suo Corporation. By law, you as an asset are required to disclose your location.” The voice is unfamiliar. A woman.

  I look around, but can’t tell where it’s coming from. It’s as if the sound is everywhere all at once.

  “My apologies, miss. I was not privy to such knowledge. Doctor Sloan—” Robbie’s voice.

  The female voice interrupts him. “—is a citizen of the Twelve and still required to aid in all matters concerning the Maverick’s authority. I’m not going to ask again. I must speak with him. It’s an urgent matter.”

  I start pressing random buttons on the keyboard. A small string of letters and numbers appears in front of me. It’s like I’m playing a video game. Still, every time I press enter, the string disappears and the numbers making up the room flash red before settling down. I have no idea what I’m doing.

  Robbie speaks again. “Doctor Sloan is a resident of RigMire and has not contacted MagHaven in some time.”

  The woman sounds agitated. “So, you’re telling me that the man hasn’t contacted anyone in how long? His daughter is listed as a resident here. Where is she?”

  I press the escape button. Within seconds, the walls change. I’m back in the kitchen. There’s a large dent in the fridge and the sliding door leading to the foyer has scorch marks around the frame. The cube I’m situated in has been moved. I’m over by the dishwasher now.

  The woman turns towards me. Her face is obscured by a helmet which looks to be connected to a black and navy suit. The getup is tactical. I don’t know who she is, but she looks dangerous.

  She presses a button on her left sleeve, and I watch as the helmet retracts until I find myself staring into sad eyes. Her demeanour is tough, but she looks mildly exhausted. “What is this?”

  I don’t move. “I have no idea.” Was that my voice? It sounds like I’m talking through the speaker of a walkie-talkie.

  She looks down at the cube. “Are you transmitting or stored?”

  I don’t say anything. In my peripheral vision, I get a glimpse of Sasha peeking out from the pantry. She looks terrified.

  The woman walks forward and kicks the cube slightly. My image flickers. “I’m going to go with stored. Strange, but not completely unusual. State your name.”

  I pause. “Piper Sloan.”

  Her eyes widen. “Interesting, very interesting.”

  I don’t recognize the flag on her sleeve. “I... uh... it’s been a rough couple of days. Who are you, exactly?”

  Sasha steps out of the pantry. She doesn’t look scared anymore. If anything she’s moving with confidence. “Calista?”

  The woman looks at Sasha as if she were going to attack, but stops almost instantly. There’s something there—recognition in both their eyes.

  After a long pause, the woman leans against the counter. “Sasha.”

  It’s easy to tell when people have history. More is spoken between the lines than out loud. I don’t know how Robbie feels, but under normal circumstances I would leave the room and give these two some space. Such things aren’t an option though, not anymore. All I can do is watch and try to piece together a story.

  14

  THE SIGNIFICANCE OF HISTORY

  SOMETIMES LIFE FEELS LIKE A SERIES OF SCENES intertwined into a narrative only the principal cast can understand. I’ve heard a lot of people’s stories and put in my two cents wh
en they asked, but this is different. There is no script—no right thing to say—just two people with unresolved baggage. You don’t have to know what’s going on to see that.

  The woman named Calista holds herself confidently. I don’t recognize her uniform, but she looks like she’s military, but then again, maybe not. I don’t see any weapons, just a gauntlet around her right wrist.

  “What are you doing here?” Sasha looks scared. Everything about her posture says that she’s ready to run any second now.

  “My job.” Calista walks back towards the refrigerator. “This place is a ghost town. Where is everyone?”

  Robbie appears on the screen above the fireplace. “MagHaven’s population has not dipped. There should be thousands of people minding their own business.”

  She nods. “Key word is should.”

  Sasha shakes her head. “The streets have been empty for a while.”

  Calista looks towards her. “Damn. Another distraction.”

  She presses her left wrist, activating a small projector. Her arm must be mechanical. I don’t see any signs of a portable computer. A miniature image of a man forms on the table. His tint is light blue.

  “Captain, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He looks as if he is preoccupied with something else.

  Calista pauses. “Hello, Henry. I’m sorry to bother you, but I don’t think pleasure is the appropriate word.”

  He shrugs. “One day you’ll call me with good news. What can I do for you?”

  “Are you on assignment?”

  He nods. “I am.”

  She starts pacing. “Classified?”

  “Of course.”

  “We have a situation; can you get away?”

  Henry’s audio cuts out for a long stretch, then he shouts to someone behind him before addressing the Captain. “I’m afraid not. This matter requires my full attention.”

  She sighs. “I understand. We may have a Code Omicron on our hands.”

  He looks as if he’s propped himself up against something. “How many?”

  She looks at Sasha. “If I’m right, forty-two thousand.”

  The audio goes silent again.

  The man named Henry disappears from the feed for a moment.

  I let out a very audible sigh. “What’s going on?”

  The Captain turns her attention to me. “MagHaven should be bustling, but all I’ve found is one traveller, a probably illegal AI, and a citizen transferred into a data stream. That means we have a lot of missing people which I don’t really have time to investigate.”

  “Calista?” Henry’s audio cuts back in. “The Maverick wants you to call in.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Of course he does.”

  He continues. “My assignment should be concluded within the hour. Activate the Ocelot’s beacon and I will join you afterwards. Wait for my arrival.”

  She doesn’t respond right away. “I understand.”

  “Calista, I mean it. If this is as serious as you’re suggesting, the vendetta you’re on must be put on hold.”

  “Fine, just get here quickly.” And with those words, she closes the link.

  Sasha makes her way over to me and wastes no time picking up the cube I’m stored in. Robbie disappears from the screen and for a moment the lights flicker.

  “Please excuse me, I have another call to make.” The Captain disappears into another room.

  Sasha looks worried. “Do you know where Robbie’s server is located?”

  I nod; she’s adjusted my projection to be only slightly larger than the one coming from Calista’s arm. “There’s a locked door in the basement. I’ve never been inside.”

  She keeps looking towards the door the Captain walked through. “You’re sure it’s there?”

  “No, but it’s my best educated guess.”

  She nods and heads down the hallway. “Then let’s go.”

  Her demeanour changes. I’ve seen this behaviour before—rushing while pretending to be calm and collected. We reach a door at the end of the hall, passing my father’s old office along the way. The pad on the door requires a numerical key.

  She looks down at me, but I have no answer for her. “Tell me you know—”

  “I don’t.”

  The lights flicker again.

  Sasha starts pushing random buttons. “Six digits. What’s your birthday?”

  I shake my head. “It’s not going to be my birthday.”

  “You have any better ideas?”

  I pause. “Why are we suddenly in a rush.”

  She looks over her shoulder. “Calista called Robbie an illegal AI. He might be in danger. I need to get him off the server.”

  “He’s not illegal. He’s family.” I look at the pad. “It won’t be my birthday.”

  The sound of free electricity surges behind Sasha, as the Captain steps around her and slams her left fist into the door. I watch as the sparks travel to the corners of the door frame. The pad shorts out and the door is open in seconds.

  Sasha jumps back and before I know it, I’m falling. An audible thud echoes as I hit the floor and slide toward the wall.

  The Captain’s left arm is definitely cybernetic. There’s no other way that much energy could be transferred safely.

  “I think you and I need to clear the air about a few things.” Calista passes Sasha and walks through the now-open door. The lights over her head turn on automatically.

  “I... I won’t let you hurt him.” Sasha reaches down and picks me up.

  Calista props herself up against the wall. “Who are you talking about?”

  Sasha half shouts her response. “Robbie.”

  “Who?”

  “The house.”

  Calista pauses. “You mean the AI.”

  Sasha shakes her head. “I won’t let you hurt him.”

  “Sasha—”

  “Like you hurt—”

  “Don’t you dare talk about things you don’t understand.” The Captain is angry, but in control.

  Sasha looks like she’s ready to break down and cry.

  I suddenly feel awkward—like I’m witnessing something I shouldn’t. Sasha is small compared to Calista, and whatever history lies between them is influencing some strong emotions. Still, the Captain remains poised. She turns towards the other end of the hallway, then back towards Sasha.

  “I’d never hurt anyone or anything unless they intended to harm others.” She then begins walking back the way she came. “I’m here for my brother, not to report an AI which has—to my knowledge—done nothing wrong.” She pauses. “Though I really should.”

  Sasha says nothing as the Captain sighs then disappears down the hall.

  I look up at the teenager trying to keep her composure. I want to tell her that it’s ok to cry—ok to show emotion.

  “Sasha?”

  She doesn’t look at me—doesn’t even say a word as she walks through the open door and makes her way down the stairs.

  15

  THE HUM IN THE DARK

  “EVERYTHING WHICH EXISTS IS BUILT ON SOME SORT OF FOUNDATION. This is true for things like buildings and Jenga towers, but also for the intangible, like emotions and spontaneous reactions. The cause and effect of moments are what make us who we are.

  Sasha walks and I bob slightly with each of her steps.

  I feel as if being in this cube has robbed me of any sort of physical foundation. It’s strange, really; I can see the home I grew up in so clearly, as if I were in the room, but when I reach out to touch something—anything—I’m a ghost. Nothing more.

  Everything I am, from the size of my projection to my very being, is determined by outside factors.

  I look down at my hand and press the rook at the base of my thumb. The keyboard appears again. It looks standard to me, but I have no idea what I should be typing. I want to see Robbie; he could show me what to do. He said his keyboard was different, but that’s never stopped him from helping me before.

  “Holy crap.” Sasha stops walking.
Her hand holds the cube upside down so I’m having a hard time understanding what she’s reacting to.

  I try to turn myself. “What is it?”

  She rotates the cube. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. It’s just... wow.”

  We’re both staring at a mess of circuits and boards. No, mess is the wrong word. It’s as if everything in front of us is made with microchips. The walls—the ceiling—everything but the floor is dark green with protruding gold filaments. A small monitor with an access panel is embedded in the far wall.

  Sasha lets out a deep breath. “This is insane.”

  I nod. “What exactly am I looking at here?”

  “I think this is Robbie.” She walks up to the screen. “This isn’t a server. I think the house literally is him. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  Without warning, the screen turns on and I can’t help but smile as Robbie’s face appears. He looks relaxed.

  “Oh, there you are. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” He pauses. “I haven’t... I mean, no one has visited me down here in such a long time.”

  Sasha nods. “This is just... beautiful. It really is.”

  Robbie tilts his head. “What a strange word. I’ve never heard it used in this context before.”

  There is a pulling feeling which appears now and then. It’s hard to describe, but it’s as if someone is next to me tugging at my sleeve. I don’t know how else to put it. Still, every time I look, nothing is there.

  Sasha walks up to the monitor and traces a finger around the edges. “Is Calista still upstairs?”

  Robbie pauses. “No, she is outside.”

  “Doing what?”

  The screen flickers to an image of Calista sidestepping—her hands up as if she were getting ready to hit someone. “I’m not sure. She is moving rather quickly. Dancing, perhaps?”

  She jumps to the side and a moderate crater appears where she was standing.

  This isn’t dancing.

  I look up at Sasha. “We have to go outside.”

  She shakes her head. “And do what, exactly?”

  “Figure out what’s going on? She’s moving like she’s in the midst of a brawl.”