Brass Heart Floating

by L. C. Mortimer

  The appearance of Yoralil had disintegrated in the years prior. Perhaps it had been lovely once, but I never got to see that. No, the Yoralil I knew was run down and in a state of disarray.

  It shouldn’t have been.

  The advancement of robotics should have meant Yoralil was better than other places. Stronger. The city should have been ahead of its time, yet the unrest between the cyborgs and the humans was increasing to the point where nothing else could be done.

  No one could move past the issue of whether or not cyborgs should even exist.

  How were they supposed to work together in unity to move the city forward if such a simple thing was so unbearable?

  I didn’t like the cyborgs anymore than anyone else. Perhaps I hated them more than others. Laura certainly didn’t mind them. Kyle hadn’t. I was different, though, and I was alone. To me, the cyborgs represented something I could never have. They were part of a world I would never belong in. I had come to Yoralil for a fresh start, yet the cyborgs that permeated the city were vying for the same jobs as me. They were renting the same building as me. They were doing all of the same things, which meant I had competition I would not otherwise have, and I resented them for that.

  By the time I reached Jack’s home, I was nearly twenty minutes late. Not the best first impression for a job. I’d have to apologize profusely. I was embarrassed when I knocked on his door, and even more embarrassed when he gave me a solid once-over. I was soaked, and I knew I looked shabby and poor. It had rained on the way, and my winter coat was thin. It was all I could afford at the moment.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I began, but he held up a hand.

  “I know the place can be difficult to find,” he said gently. “I trust it won’t happen again.”

  “It won’t.”

  I stepped into the narrow entryway and Jack took my took. He hung it on a coat stand and guided me from the hallway into a large living room with floor-to-ceiling bookcases and a large fire roaring. The room was warm, and for the first time in a very long time, I felt comfortable. I felt my body relax as I moved to sit down on the sofa. Jack sat across from me.

  “I suppose you have some questions about what we’re going to be doing here,” he said, and I nodded. I understood the basics, but I wasn’t sure exactly what he needed me to do. There were books absolutely everywhere: on the sofa, beneath the sofa, on the chairs.

  “A few,” I admitted, and Jack smiled. He was a handsome man: not that I noticed that sort of thing. I had no time for or interest in dating. I had come to Yoralil to make a life for myself: not to find a husband. I understood it was strange for a woman of my age to be unmarried and alone, yet I couldn’t find it in my heart to pursue something romantic. My dreams were too big for that sort of thing, and I doubted a man could help me pursue them.

  “Shall we have some tea while we discuss the project?” Jack asked, and I nodded. He motioned for me to follow him, and he led me out of the room full of books and into an adjoining dining room. Beyond that was a kitchen.

  “Your house is lovely,” I commented, unable to bite my tongue. My entire apartment would have fit twice over in the room full of books. A house like this was so huge I feared I’d become lost. Yoralil was not known for its large homes, nor was it known for being affordable. I had only looked at two apartments before selecting the one I now rent, and even then, I only chose it because it was the one I could most easily afford.

  That wasn’t easily at all, though.

  “I recently inherited it,” Jack said. “Please, have a seat.” He motioned toward a set of stools, and I slid onto the nearest one. My eyes continued to roam the kitchen as he prepared tea. He moved with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before. Jack had a certain confidence about him I found quite appealing, but I wasn’t sure why I felt that way.

  I wasn’t often romantically inclined, and I wasn’t interested in any sort of relationship with Jack, nor was I under the impression he thought of me in that way. Still, I found myself drawn to him the way a cat is drawn toward a clock box. I wanted to look at him, figure him out. Jack was a mystery to me.

  “I don’t plan to keep the house,” Jack said. He set two saucers and a teapot on a tray and motioned for me to follow him back to the main room.

  “Why don’t you want it?” I was surprised. The home was large and spacious. If he wanted a family someday, it would be the perfect place for Jack to live with his wife and any children they might have. If he didn’t want a family one day, it was still the perfect house. It had been gifted to him upon someone’s death, so he didn’t even have to worry about paying for it.

  It was just his, and he didn’t want it.

  Jack sighed, but was quiet until we were both seated in the main room. I fought the temptation to look at the stacks and stacks of books that were everywhere. It was going to be quite the project, I thought, and that was good for me. It meant I’d get a decent payday. It meant I’d be able to make enough to survive a little bit longer until life in Yoralil became too much for me.

  “There’s more to life than ease of living,” Jack said slowly. “The person who died…we were very close,” he said. “And I can’t quite bear the thought of living here without that person.”

  A lover, then. He had lost his lover. I nodded quietly and began to pay very close attention to the books. I wasn’t quite sure what to say to Jack. I wasn’t sure at all.

   Three

  Jack was disappointed in his decision to hire Gertrude. She wasn’t nearly as intelligent as Laura had led him to believe. Gertrude seemed pleasant enough, but he knew her type far too well. She was a human, but he would bet anything she was against MAR. He would bet anything she didn’t even understand why.

  Still, he would give her a chance. He owed Laura, and Laura had seemed determined he give this job to her friend. Jack wasn’t so sure just how close Laura and Gertrude really were, but Laura was family to him: the sister he’d never had, the aunt he’d always wanted.

  “So the books,” Gertrude said, looking around the room.

  “The books need to be sorted, labeled, priced, and organized.” Books were not his thing. Jack had many skills, but understanding the intricacies of human artifacts like these were not something that appealed to him.

  Now, put Jack in front of a computer and he’d be just fine. He could create a program that would increase human productivity in nearly any field. He could make an entertainment program that would occupy people for hours. He could learn. He could absorb the information he found there readily and easily.

  Books were different, though. Books required you to touch them, to feel them. Books begged you to smell them. They wanted to be experienced in every way possible and although Jack did not read books himself, he understood what they were. At their very essence, books were alive.

  Anyone who ever created a book poured a little bit of their soul into it. Oh, authors might say the book was neutral: a work of fiction they’d simply imagined. That wasn’t true at all, and Jack knew this. He knew perfectly well that when someone penned a book, they poured their own experiences, their own ideas, their own dreams, and their own prejudices into that book.

  No, Jack did not have time for books.

  He did not have time for the quaint ideas of humans who wanted to perpetuate the belief that he should not exist. He was not simply the figment of someone’s imagination. Jack was real, and he was alive, and he planned to stay that way.

  “This seems like a straightforward project,” Gertrude said. She wouldn’t stop staring at the books. She looked hungry, like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. Her eyes had dark circles beneath them, and her cheekbones looked hollow. It was why he’d suggested the tea. Why wasn’t she eating?

  “Have some tea,” he said. Gertrude looked at him, obviously surprised, but she poured herself a cup of tea and began to sip it. This satisfied Jack.

  As soon as Gertrude had finished her tea and set the teacup on the tray, he began to explain
what he expected from her. This would work best if there were no preconceived ideas about their relationship. She was his employee now, and that meant she would follow his policies when it came to managing the project. If he didn’t like the way things were going, well, Laura could just take her back.

  “You will be on time tomorrow,” Jack said. Gertrude raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. “Can you provide me with an estimate of how long you anticipate this project to last?”

  “That depends,” Gertrude shrugged. “Just looking around at what I can see here, I’d guess it will be at least a month.”

  He sighed. He had feared she would say something along those lines. Laura had warned him this wasn’t going to be an easy task, yet Jack hadn’t listened. If only Laura had been willing to help him. Then he wouldn’t have needed to meet with Gertrude at all. He could have continued living in peace, continued doing his work, and he wouldn’t have had to be bothered.

  Humans were an exhausting sort. His late partner had not been that way. He had been different, kind. Gentle. He had been understanding, and he had realized Jack’s need for silence and privacy. There had been no arguments between them.

  At least, none until the man had disappeared.

  Bradley had been more than just a partner to Jack. He had been his creator. He had curated Jack, had built him with his own two hands, but then their relationship had changed. Bradley had valued Jack’s opinion. He had cared for him. He had protected him. Bradley had been Jack’s very best friend, and losing him had hurt.

  They had done everything together, but then he had been taken: no doubt because he’d been such an active part of MAR. Most of the humans didn’t like the idea of robots and cyborgs living in their city. Humans didn’t want things to change. They were scared, and scared people were dangerous people.

  Now Jack found himself in a precarious position. Could he trust Gertrude? Jack wasn’t sure, but he was going to find out soon enough. For right now, he had no choice but to trust her. Laura trusted her, had vouched for her, and even though the realization that Gertrude could betray him lingered in his thoughts, for today, he was going to believe in the human.

   Four

  After an hour of instructions from Jack, I finally went home. While I usually struggled to fall asleep at night, I found that after being surrounded by books and a new, interesting project, sleep came easily. Too easily.

  When I woke, I hurried through my morning routine and arrived at work right on time. Laura wasn’t in yet, so I went to my desk and sat down. Instead of starting to file right away, I thought about Jack and about the project I was going to help him with.

  It would last a month, which was the same amount of time I’d be at this position, unless something happened and they decided to keep me on. Laura couldn’t offer me any hope or discouragement on that front. I understood, but it would have been nice to know what to expect when it came to the future.

  “Hello, sunshine,” she said, suddenly manifesting in front of my desk. I jumped, but recovered quickly. Laura just laughed. “You always were a jumpy one, Gertrude.”

  “It’s one of my life goals to keep you entertained,” I told her.

  “How did everything go last night?” She asked, taking a seat across from me. It was strange. Laura and I were cordial enough, but I wouldn’t consider us friends. We certainly weren’t close. It’s the same reason I was confused when she recommended me to Jack.

  “Quite well,” I told her. “Thank you for recommending me for the position.”

  She waved her hand and shook her head, looking around nervously. “It was nothing,” she said. For a moment, I thought she was going to say something else, but she must have remembered the recording devices placed throughout the building. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to them, but eventually, being recorded becomes so mundane and routine that you tend to stop thinking about them unless you have something to hide.

  Privacy was something other people had. Not people in Yoralil. Back home, where I was raised, the idea of being recorded would have been enough to give anyone in town nightmares, but Yoralil was different. People here were more modern and trendy. They were more comfortable with the way the future was changing. Not only were there cyborgs and robots everywhere, but there were recording devices all around.

  I hated it, but I kept my thoughts to myself as much as possible.

  Even Laura didn’t know I hated the tin men. Political talk was never pleasant, so I kept my ideas to myself. I didn’t need my boss to know I thought the world would be better if it was run by humans. Laura and her brother had been close, so I knew she was most likely a supporter of MAR.

  “Are you doing okay?” I asked quietly. I couldn’t bring myself to actually form the words I wanted to say. If I had been a good friend, I would have asked if she needed anything. I would have offered her a hug. I would have taken her hand. If I had been a good friend, I would have promised Laura that everything would be okay, but I wasn’t a good friend.

  I was just me.

  I was just Gertrude Morgan: temp.

  I was just a small town girl with big city dreams who had gotten much more than she had bargained for.

  Now I was paying the price for all of that. It was fine, really. Everything would be fine. I just had to hold on a little bit longer and soon, everything would turn out okay.

  “I’m all right,” Laura said politely, but her thin lips were pressed tightly together, and I knew she didn’t really feel that way. She ended the conversation by getting up and leaving the room. I got her point. She was tired, and she was done.

  I felt the same way.

  I stared at the piles of books around me. What had once offered peace and happiness now held only sadness and despair. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. All I wanted was to find freedom and contentment and some semblance of normalcy. None of that could happen now, I realized.

  It had taken too long for me to understand my reality.

  ***

  When I reached Jack’s place that night, I glanced at my time piece. I was on time, for once, and I felt proud of myself when I knocked on the door. Getting to his place wasn’t easy or simple, and at this point in my life in Yoralil, I had to focus on the little things. If I was able to accomplish something as hard as being on time, I had to believe I could accomplish anything.

  I straightened my skirt and blouse before climbing the stairs to his home and knocking on the door. Jack answered promptly, and he smiled at me. I didn’t notice yesterday how nice his smile actually was. It was calming, somehow, and gentle.

  “Welcome back,” he said. Then he glanced at the clock on his wall, and he nodded. “Right on time, Miss Morgan.”

  “I did my best,” I told him.

  “Excellent.” He stepped back and allowed me to walk into the house. I entered quickly, hurrying into the room with the books. “Cold?” He asked when I stepped in front of the fireplace, but I shook my head. The truth was that it had been a long time since I’d been in front of a real fire. It had been a long time since I’d been anyplace warm.

  “It’s just…”

  “Gertrude?”

  “Your house is very warm,” I said quietly. It was a personal piece of information to share: much more personal than I shared with other people. I wasn’t just admitting that I often felt physically cold. I was also admitting that I felt other things, darker things. I felt things I didn’t want to tell anyone about.

  I felt cold.

  All of the time.

  There was a certain disconnect that came from being new to a place. You didn’t have the friendships, the responsibilities, the connections that rooted someone to their home. You had taken scissors to your roots when you left home, and now you were isolated and alone.

  I understood this and had gotten used to it. For me, this was simply a part of my new life in Yoralil.

  That didn’t make it any easier to deal with, though.

  Jack looked at me for a long time before he spoke. Someth
ing about the way he watched me made me uncomfortable. There was nothing inappropriate or lascivious in his gaze. That wasn’t why it made me fidget.

  No, it was that when Jack looked at me, it was as if he could see right through me, and I hated that feeling. It was a vulnerability I wasn’t used to: an emotion I wasn’t sure I could handle.

  Jack looked at me like he could see right through me. He’d known me for only two days. He couldn’t possibly understand who I was or what I was going through. I’d worked for Laura much longer than that, and even she didn’t know all of my secrets.

  “Why don’t we sit by the fire?” Jack said after a long while, and I nodded. We went to a sofa near the fire and sat side-by-side in the comfortable space. He said nothing as we sat there, warming ourselves, and I wondered how long Jack had been alone. He seemed more comfortable with the idea than I was.

  He seemed completely at ease with himself, with the world around him.

  “When did you come to Yoralil?” He asked.

  “Six months ago.”

  “It isn’t what you expected.” It wasn’t a question.

  “No.”

  “You don’t like it here.”

  I figured Jack was from Yoralil. He probably grew up here with his same group of friends. He probably had never been the new person. He didn’t know what it was like to wake up and wonder if you were going to be socially awkward or weird or behave in a way that made people look twice at you.

  He didn’t know what it was like to be different.

  “Life here is very different than Eliksburg.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “About Eliksburg?”

  “About moving.”

  I cocked my head and looked at Jack. He seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say.