Brass Heart Floating

by L. C. Mortimer

  Brass Heart Floating

  L.C. Mortimer

  Copyright 2017 by L.C. Mortimer

  Even the coldest heart can melt.

  Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Author

  Books

  Lost in the Apocalypse

  The Forgotten

  Just Another Day in the Zombie Apocalypse: Episode 1

  Two

   One

  I slid into the first cab that stopped.

  By the time I scooted over to the left side of the seat and peeked over the driver's shoulder to see his arm, it was too late. Another traveler hopped in the cab with me and closed the door. I had no way of getting out then, at least not until I reached my destination. With the rain falling the way that it was, I was not interested in walking.

  With a sigh, I angrily told the driver my address.

  "311 Candle."

  "And you, Sir?" The driver asked in his monotone voice, but the man didn't seem to notice or care.

  "9th and Broadway."

  "Very well."

  The cab pulled away from the curb and I stared out the window, not talking to the driver or the man riding with me. The last thing I wanted to do was start up a conversation with someone who was obviously pro-metal. From the passenger's obvious lack of caring about our driver, I could tell that he must support the MAR: Movement for the Advancement of Robotics.

  In other words, he wanted a world of cyborgs instead of a world of humans.

  And I didn't.

  The driver's serial number had been stamped on his left forearm: the only way to honestly distinguish between man and robot. Humans were forbidden from getting tattoos on their arms, but there were still teenagers and MAR supporters who did so in an effort to confuse and irritate the people around them.

  The cab stopped at my address.

  The small screen in front of me flashed the total amount for the ride: 19 lasdos. I held up my wrist to the screen until the tiny barcode scanner beeped.

  The screen flashed "Tip Amount" and I entered "0" before getting out of the cab. I did not thank the driver or offer a goodbye.

  "Thank you for riding," he said before I slammed the door.

  I was soaked by the time I got into my dilapidated building. With a sigh, I slowly trudged up the narrow staircase. When I reached the fifth floor, I was tired of walking. I held my wrist to the scanner by my door and, when I heard the beep and the unlocking of the latch, I went inside.

  Life in Yoralil had not been what I expected, and I missed the simplicity of Eliksburg. At least there, you had a sense of belonging. You had a sense of routine. You had a life that was full of order and calmness. There was none of this metal-man stuff to deal with. There was just a world of togetherness.

  As I kicked off my shoes and hung my jacket across the back of a chair, I felt an overwhelming sense of regret. It had been my decision to leave Eliksburg. No one had made me. Despite thinking that it would be a good choice, though, I felt myself constantly yearning for something else. It wasn't that I wished I could return to the slower world of Eliksburg, not specifically. I simply felt like I couldn't find something that made me feel content.

  Yoralil had promised a progressive lifestyle that would make your dreams come alive. What I didn't know when I accepted my job here was that your dreams also included your nightmares, and mine was cloaked in a skin suit and stamped with a number on the arm.

  I wondered what would have happened if I had ended up somewhere else, instead. Arcadial, perhaps. Or even Newmek. Not all cities had cyborgs in them. Some cities just had robots. Some were still on the verge of creating their own tin people. Some, like Eliksburg, had banned the tech altogether. Each community was its own little world, its own little entity.

  And I had stupidly picked the one with metal heads.

  With a sigh, I collapsed on my bed. I was exhausted from my day. Working in the basement of what had once been a library but was now a historical relic always wore me out. The cold, lonely environment was the worst way I could imagine to spend a day. It didn't pay well - only 25 lasdos an hour - but it was safe. I didn’t have to worry about anyone bothering me or, more importantly, anyone talking to me.

  The 11th Street Library was a place that most people didn’t know about. My office was located in the basement of the building, where I spent my days sorting through old paperwork and boxing up discarded books. No one owned paper books anymore. Those had long ago become extinct. The ones that were considered rare would be scanned into a database before being destroyed. There was simply no place for the physical copies in the world anymore, not when you could just read one on your computer.

  Still, the work was routine and dusty. I spent most of my working hours sneezing. When I wasn’t sneezing, I was sneaking peeks into the stories from days past. I found myself imagining I was being whisked away to a different world, to a different life, to a different place. It wasn’t that I was trying to be ungrateful for what I had. Things just seemed so much simpler in the stories.

  I closed my eyes and tried to remember for the millionth time why I had ever bothered to move here. The city was bustling and busy and fast. Everything moved constantly. Moving to Yoralil had been the first time I had wandered out of Eliksburg and though it was naïve, I hadn’t expected things to be so drastically different. That small, hometown feel was nonexistent. No one knew anyone. You were all just strangers passing. You were all just lonely people being lonely together. And some of them didn’t even have beating hearts.

  It was tragic.

  ***

  I woke up, still fully dressed, and glanced at the clock on my nightstand. The numbers blinked brightly, reminding me that it was time to start my day, reminding me of where I was: a world that needed clocks and schedules and boring jobs.

  In Eliksburg, things had been simpler. Clocks were a thing of the past: reminders of a world that was rushed. The mayor had outlawed them and instead urged citizens to simply enjoy their lives, to live reasonably, and to help out their fellow citizens as much as possible. Of course, everyone still used watches and clocks. They just made sure that the mayor never found out. Even the town guards, whose jobs required enforcement of Mayor Grai’s city policies, always seemed to look the other way when it came to things as silly as watch bandits.

  But in Yoralil, you had to be on time or you would be replaced. Luckily, I had one of the few jobs that were not yet being contracted out to the metal faces. It wouldn’t be long, though, I knew, before I was replaced, too, by someone who would do the job for an even lower wage than what I was already working for.

  I hurried up to the bathroom and glanced again at the clock. There would be water in my apartment for exactly 8 minutes. It would be enough time for me to quickly shower, shave, and brush my teeth. With the world experiencing water shortages like never before, water rationing had everyone being extra careful with their usage.

  The clock beeped and I hopped in, turning on the water, not waiting for it to get warm. It wouldn’t have enough time to get warm. I’d had hot showers as a child, but now there were only two temperatures for water: horribly cold and minimally bearable. Today’s shower was cold.

  My body was covered in goose bumps as I jumped out of the tiny stall and grabbed my robe. Tying it tightly around myself, I grabbed my toothbrush and began scrubbing my teeth as quickly as I could. When I was done, I poured two glasses of water and drank them both. As I was pouring a third glass, the water sputtered out. With a sigh, I left the half-empty
glass on my bathroom counter and finished dressing for work.

  ***

  I left my building at half-past nine. The walk would take me close to an hour, but I would still be at the library before my 11 o’clock shift began. The historical preservation project was supposed to last at least another month, but after that I might not be kept on staff. I did as much as possible to impress Laura, my boss, but even if she liked me better than all the other staff members, she couldn’t create money out of thin air. If there wasn’t going to be another project, I would have to find something else to do.

  My shoulder bag weighed heavily as I made my way down the empty sidewalk. I loved the shift I had landed since it meant that my walk to work was fairly straightforward. Most workers were either already at work or still at home, so aside from a few beggars and a few tin heads, I had a clear and easy walk to work.

  “Good morning,” I called out to Laura as I stepped down the cobblestone steps into the musky basement. Her office was across the hall from me, but I rarely went in unless I had to. Chances were that I beat her to work. I did most days. The scent of books and mold overwhelmed me as I ducked into the historical room.

  “Good morning to you,” a masculine voice greeted me.

  I looked up, surprised. In front of my desk, next a pile of abandoned books, stood a tall man holding a book.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, hanging up my bag and slipping my jacket off. It wasn’t usual that I got visitors in the basement, especially not in my tiny little office. My desk sat close to the door, and was angled so that I could see both across the hall into Laura’s office and into the rest of the room where several shelves of books still sat, waiting to be catalogued and packed away.

  “I hope so,” the man said. He remained standing, but looked confused or nervous. I couldn’t quite tell.

  “Why don’t you have a seat and tell me what it is you need?”

  He obliged. In fact, he lounged back into the seat so far that I wondered if he planned to take a nap. He was certainly making himself at home.

  “I need someone to help me with a cataloging project. Miss Hodgins told me you were the best.”

  Laura had recommended me? I was surprised. She hadn’t said anything about a special job, but I could definitely use the cash. Besides, it’s not like I had a life outside of work. I wasn’t exactly getting invited to parties or night clubs like most of the other girls my age. Nope, my life was pretty ordinary and boring, save for the occasional run-in with a tin face.

  “Did she now?” I inquired. “What type of project?” Before the man even told me, I found myself craving the job. I needed it. I wanted it. I could save up the extra money and get a ticket out of here. I was ready to go somewhere new. Anywhere. Not back to Eliksburg. No, just somewhere different. Somewhere robot-free.

  “I have come into possession of a rather large collection of books. Unfortunately, I have neither the qualifications nor the skills to sort them properly. I don’t know what they’re worth, or if they’re worth anything at all. I need someone to help me sort them, create a catalogue, and, if possible, to sell them.”

  I wanted in. I didn’t want to seem desperate, though.

  “What does it pay?” I asked.

  The man displayed no emotion or surprise when I asked.

  "35 lasdos per hour.”

  The shock must have shown on my face, because I thought he started to grin.

  “I would definitely be interested,” I told him quickly. “Absolutely. I mean, I work here from 11 to 8 most days, but I’m definitely interested if it’s something I could do in the morning before work. Even in the evenings,” I added. “I have no problem being flexible. Or even on the weekends. I can do weekends.”

  The man held up his hand and smiled. “Calm down,” he told me gently. “I have no interest in creating conflict between your positions.”

  Relieved, I sunk back into my chair, finally relaxing for just a moment. 35 an hour. I could save it all. Hell, I could buy food for once. As it was, most of my earnings went to rent. I was barely able to save anything after I paid my bills and the occasional cab fare. Forget about groceries. I lived off of dried noodles.

  “I’m Jack,” he told me.

  “Gertrude Morgan,” I replied. “But then, you already knew that.”

  “So I did,” Jack stood to rise. “When do you want to start, Miss Morgan?”

  “Gertrude, please. I can start immediately. Tonight, even.”

  “Tonight it is. Why don’t you meet me at the flat after work? Say, 9?”

  “Absolutely, sounds great.”

  “Fantastic.” Jack grabbed a pen from my desk and scribbled down the address. Handing it back, he smiled. “I look forward to working with you, Miss Morgan.”

  He walked away, and I shoved the address in my pocket.

  Things were starting to look up, after all. As Jack’s footsteps sounded off into the distance, I headed over to the shelves and grabbed a book.

  It was time to get to work.

   Two

  Laura breezed into work around noon. I grudgingly looked toward her office before I slowly pried myself from my seat. I needed to get into her dim, unpleasant space to clock in, but I’d need her to backdate my time slip since I had arrived before her. It bothered me more than it should that I was the one who would be out of a job soon, yet I worked so much harder than she did. At least, I thought that I did.

  “Laura?” I knocked lightly on the door. She waved me in, but didn’t look up from her paperwork.

  “What?” She was abrupt, which wasn’t unusual for her. Laura was not the friendliest boss, but she paid me on time and for the most part, she left me alone, so I couldn’t complain. Much.

  “I just need you to mark my time slip, please.”

  “When did you get in?”

  “10:45,” I told her.

  “You know I can’t mark your slip for before when you were scheduled,” she glanced up with a frown.

  “I know,” I hesitated. “I was scheduled to start at 11.”

  She wrote 11:00 on the sheet and initialed it before handing back my card. Laura didn’t say anything else as I left the room and returned to my office to get back to work. If this was going to be her attitude, it was going to be a long day. I couldn’t help but wonder what had put her in such a foul mood, but it wasn’t really my place.

  I grabbed a book from the shelf and started typing the name on my computer. I listed how many pages the book contained, what year it was printed, and who the author was. When I was finished, I placed the book in a box and grabbed the next one. I repeated the process over and over again. I didn’t look up until I heard a gentle knock at the door.

  “Quitting time,” Laura said, peeking her head into my office. I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. Sure enough, it was five past eight.

  “I hadn’t even noticed,” I said, placing the last book in the box. She waited as I turned off the computer, grabbed my bag, and left the room. The two of us walked side-by-side out of the building, where Laura locked the door and turned to me.

  “I’m sorry I was short with you this morning,” she told me. “Kyle is gone.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but quickly closed it.

  “It happened last night,” she said, quietly, standing against the building. We stood in the shadows. There was no one walking around this part of town, not at this hour, but we still stayed quiet. I knew now why Laura hadn’t said anything before. Everything we did at work was recorded. It was the law. All public buildings had constant monitoring to ensure no one behaved inappropriately. While this once may have meant public vandalism, it now meant you couldn’t talk about robots or overthrowing the way things were run.

  “Tell me,” I said, ignoring the way my throat was suddenly dry. Kyle was Laura’s brother. He was a huge proponent of living peacefully with cyborgs and robots. He said the world could never grow if we clung to old ideas that no longer mattered. He said we had to let go of the pas
t if we wanted to accept the future.

  “They came for him,” she whispered. Even though I know who she meant, I needed to hear her say it.

  “Who came for him, Laura?”

  Laura just shook her head. I knew what she was thinking: it didn’t matter now. Kyle was gone, and she was alone in the world. There would be no getting Kyle back. There would be no thinking that perhaps he had been taken for an interview and would be later returned. No, the world didn’t work like that, and Laura held no misconceptions that it did.

  “I’m sorry,” I told her. “He was a good man.”

  “I just…” Her voice trailed off, and tears filled her eyes. Kyle had been a part of MAR for a very long time. He had supported the idea that humans could live in harmony with the cyborgs, but that we needed laws to protect both species. Laura disagreed with him. She didn’t like robots anymore than I did, but she kept that to herself, even from Kyle. I only knew because one night, we’d been drinking together, and she’d let it slip.

  Laura didn’t drink again after that.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” I told her. We stood on the street together for a very long time, and then she said she had to go. I needed to leave, too, because it was my first night working for Jack. If I didn’t get to his place at a reasonable time, it was possible I’d lose the chance to work for him. I really couldn’t afford not to.

  I’d been starving, living off crumbs for what felt like an eternity. Jack’s offer was enough to help me move forward with my life. Maybe that would be in Yoralil. Maybe not. Only time would tell.

  I gave Laura a hug and watched her walk quietly away. She kept her head down as she moved past the dark buildings. I’d judged her too quickly, and I felt bad. No one deserved to have someone they loved stolen away from them. No one deserved to feel that pain. If my brother had been the one who was stolen away, I probably would be insufferable at work, too.

  With a sigh, I turned and headed toward Jack’s place. I knew the area he lived in, but I was surprised that he had requested me, of all people, to help him. Riveredge Drive was in an affluent part of Yoralil. Well, as affluent as any place could really be when you lived in a city like this.