Broken People

by Ioana Visan

  Cole fumbled around, obviously not knowing what to do. He tried, but the signal got lost on the way and her arms only flexed once. It wasn’t working. Then, she heard a splash. Cole had let his real arms flop on the gel inside the recovery cases. Using the metal arms of the transporter, he handed her a complicated piece of machinery made of several mobile parts that looked nothing like a key.

  She took it. No, that hadn’t been her. She had wanted to, but Cole had been the one who moved her arms. It was a bad idea because her fingers squeezed the key too hard and came close to bending it. Easy. She doubted he could hear her thoughts, but her willingness to cooperate had to somehow translate through the connection because his movements became more confident and precise when he manipulated the key.

  Aurore took a back seat and interfered only when he was clearly doing something wrong. She strengthened an impulse here and there, relaxed a grip, or rotated a wrist as she looked for a more comfortable position, but nothing major. Together, they used several tools on the key until Cole was happy with it, and then they inserted it into the lock.

  The hardest part had just begun. Turn, push, press a tiny button her fingernails could barely grasp, turn again, wait for the click … No, it wasn’t the right click, wait again … There it was, turn, push, press, click. It felt like playing a symphony she couldn’t hear, but she played along because the pain was slowly returning, enveloping her mind like a haze, and she wanted it to be over. And then there were no more clicks.

  “I think it’s open,” Aurore said when the transporter shakily retreated from the door. Her golden fingers gripped onto the metal edge so she wouldn’t slip off, aware she was still connected through the wires and couldn’t move away. The last thing she needed was brain damage.

  Dale pulled on the handle, and the door silently opened in front of them. Bright lights went on inside the vault, revealing a long series of metallic drawers and boxes on all sides.

  “Take those off.” Nicholas gestured towards her head, and Spinner hurried to remove the wires.

  He sprayed something cold on her scalp again, which brought back the numb sensation.

  “Are you all right?” Nicholas asked, his dark eyes filled with concern. He offered her his gloved hand to help her get down.

  “Yes,” Aurore said, relieved not to have that foreign presence inside her mind anymore. She touched her head. Her fingertips came back smeared with just a bit of blood. “I’m fine.”

  Behind them, Spinner was locking Cole’s arms in the regenerative cases. He must have also shot him with something because the transporter rose to its regular height and gestured with the metallic arms for them to go inside. Cole wanted to see what was in the vault.

  So did Aurore, albeit for different reasons. She wanted to get her boxes, and she was also curious to see what Dale was after.

  Rake and Spinner were already checking the drawers when Aurore stepped over the threshold. The path between the piles of boxes left enough room for her to pass, but she heard the transporter’s leg hitting the boxes behind her. It couldn’t get too far inside.

  “Take what you need.” Nicholas gestured around like he owned the place. He grinned when their gazes met. He didn’t own it, but it was close to impossible for anyone to stop them at this point.

  Shaking her head, Aurore slipped farther into the room.

  She found Dale in a corner, working on a small safe encased in the wall. He had connected a device to the keypad next to the lock, and he watched, concentrating on the numbers on the screen. When they blinked, he frowned, put the device back into his pocket, and pressed the keys.

  It was Aurore’s turn to frown. From where she stood, it looked like he was entering the digits corresponding to her date of birth. Aurore stepped closer.

  The door popped open with a click. Dale pulled it wide and stared. With a sigh, he lowered his head then, ever so slowly, turned to face her. “I’m sorry.”

  His apology sounded genuine, but Aurore didn’t understand what he was apologizing for. “What is it? Let me see.” She moved around him and looked into the safe. Coldness seeped into her bones.

  47

  Anya’s muscles were starting to cramp. That alone told her they had been gone for too long. Although she anxiously wanted to know what was going on, she didn’t move. The statue act was second nature to her after playing it for so many nights, but it didn’t mean she enjoyed it. She envied the menzataxor for its freedom, even while being chased by a giggling Rosie.

  Unfortunately, people got bored when the menzataxor wasn’t nearby. It wouldn’t take them long to come up with silly ideas like asking the Nightingale for an encore. Anya was a ballerina—a great one, according to the critics—but she hadn’t been able to sing a single note her entire life. Better let them think she was some kind of cyborg, like Robot Girl.

  The minutes passed slowly, too slowly for someone waiting. From time to time, she locked eyes with Serioja, but he didn’t know any more than she did. And, unlike her, he didn’t mind taking a backseat and letting life pass him by. Life had broken him in more ways than that fall on the head had, and there were no prosthetics for the brain.

  She saw the guards first, the navy uniforms moving at the periphery of her vision. Why were there suddenly more guards around? Who had called them? Something must have happened. Oddly enough, they didn’t hurry right to the grand staircase. That gave her hope. Maybe they didn’t know exactly what was going on. Whatever the case, they needed to be delayed. She had to buy Nicholas more time.

  Picking up on her inner turmoil, the silver and obsidian of her mask swirled like crazy, making her face tingle underneath. Anya cursed Big Dino’s order not to carry around phones. If she had had one, she could have asked the Nightingale to sing, and that would stop the navy coats’ invasion. The device lodged in her throat had a limited range, but the Nightingale couldn’t be too far away.

  Serioja caught her eye and watched her intently as if asking what was wrong.

  Anya glanced repeatedly at the guards. Do something! Stop them!

  With a nod, Serioja signaled the stilt men to follow him. Dressed only in a yellow vest over his flesh-colored costume with muscles painted on it, he stepped out into the cold. It was time for the backup plan.

  Millimeter by millimeter, Anya rotated her head to the left to be able to look out the window. Serioja was already up on the bar held by the stilt men, jumping, flying, and catching the bar with his bare hands. The height, twice as high as what they used at the circus, brought a frown to Anya’s mask. Too high. A strong wind would send either him or the stilt men flying to the ground, and a fall from that height … Anya didn’t want to think about it. Even Rake and Spinner couldn’t fix him after such a fall.

  Several people had gathered to watch him, more lining up along the windows facing the yard. It looked similar to the show earlier in the evening, except the music, fireworks, and extra lights were missing. Too dark. A shiver spread down Anya’s spine. Serioja was turning too quickly, putting on a show. The magnets in his wrists would prevent him from missing the bar, but all of that effort was wasted on an audience unable to appreciate the act’s beauty.

  Anya would have shaken her head if it hadn’t been for her need to keep still. She made a mental note to scold him for his theatrics. She didn’t need to worry about him, too. The situation was bad enough as it was, and it became even worse as the audience was getting bored, despite the clowns juggling glowing balls.

  Serioja must have felt it, too, because he clapped his hands while still in the air before doing another flip and hanging by one hand.

  The public parted on the right side to make room for Fei Lin. She stopped next to the closest stilt man and looked up. After the third revolution, she jumped. The robot couldn’t fly, but a good impulse would bring it over the bar and land it on the other side. During the second jump, she found time to slap hands with Serioja, then do a flip of her own.

  Show off. Anya rolled her eyes.

  But it
worked. The guards had stopped to watch. Too bad the diversion couldn’t last. Someone was bound to notice they had gotten lost on the way and call them back to order.

  Meanwhile, Serioja went on with the show. He became bolder, flying around the bar as if preparing for the end of the routine, which culminated with him sitting on the bar. What was the fool doing? He wasn’t trained for this.

  The clowns had dropped the balls and watched, their mouths open.

  Serioja bowed at the crowd, waved in Anya’s direction, and let himself fall.

  Fei Lin jumped a second later, in a desperate attempt to catch him. Serioja turned in the air, and she missed him by a fraction.

  Anya closed her eyes so she wouldn’t see him crushing against the pavement. The crowd’s roar confirmed that he had. Her mute cry passed unnoticed, and the mask sucked in the warm tears trickling down her cheeks. She didn’t move. Nothing could touch the Swan. The guards were busy, dealing with the injured man, but that couldn’t last, either. She needed to be there, ready to reveal herself if needed.

  48

  All the color had run out of Aurore’s face. She stared inside the safe, her lips parted, not saying a word. Next to a sphere the size of a man’s head that was chained to the wall sat two sets of transparent, rectangular boxes.

  Dale felt bad for her. She had obviously waited for this moment for a long time. The disappointment must have been crushing. “Do you still want them?”

  Aurore looked at him like she didn’t understand the words.

  “Do you want them?” Dale asked.

  She started. “Yes, of course I do. This is not the right place for them.”

  Those were no treasures. Sure, they were one of a kind, but like she’d said before, they were not valuable to anyone but her. And now, not even to her. They were nothing more than a painful memory. Dale nodded and picked up one of the smaller boxes. It weighted more than expected. He stepped away from the safe.

  The knife throwers were making their way to the back of the vault, so he handed the box over to Spinner. “Take it to the transporter. There are three more inside.”

  An arm floated gently in the green liquid filling the box. Through the transparent wall, the perfectly formed arm was visible—a child’s arm.

  “Wow…” Spinner glanced at the contents of the box, then at Aurore, his eyes lingering on her hands. He shook his head and placed the box under his bulky arm. “Give me the other one, too.”

  Rake picked up the boxes containing the legs.

  “I can’t believe Big Dino screwed up this badly,” Spinner said while they walked towards the exit.

  “It was an experiment. It had never been done before,” Rake said with a shrug, and the edge of one of the boxes clattered against a drawer. “There were bound to be a few glitches.”

  “That’s a big glitch!” Spinner said.

  Like a five or six centimeter long glitch. Big Dino had regrown the limbs from close to nothing, having them reach the exact state as the ones destroyed, but they hadn’t aged a day since. They couldn’t replace the golden prosthetics. They were unusable.

  “Bring the plasma cutter!” Dale yelled after them.

  “This is what you came for?” Aurore frowned at the sphere made of a material she didn’t recognize, covered in rusted bits of metal. “What is it?”

  “It’s a power source.” Dale pulled on the chains. They didn’t budge. He needed fancy gas powered bolt cutters capable of slicing through titanium diamond steel links. “It’s supposed to be able to power a small city.”

  “Supposed to?” Aurore arched an eyebrow.

  “Up until recently, it was believed to be a myth,” Dale said. “Then we heard a rumor there might be something similar inside the Hrad. We had several talks with the mayor, but he never admitted its existence.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?”

  “The European United Nation Council.” There was no point in hiding anymore. He was here. The proof lay in front of him. “The martial law hasn’t been instated here, so we couldn’t barge in and take it. We had to find another way.”

  “Steal it…”

  “If that’s what it takes…” Dale shrugged. “It’s not like he’s using it.”

  “That’s … not entirely correct,” Spinner said on his way back to them. Neither he nor Rake carried the plasma cutter.

  “It’s powering her prosthetics.” Rake nodded at Aurore. “You can’t take it.”

  “Big Dino will have all of our heads if you do,” Spinner said.

  “I would listen to them if I were you, Mr. Armstrong.” Ternchiev’s voice came from along the aisle, preceding his slower body. “Now…” He stopped to huff and pressed a hand against the left side of his chest. “Will you be so kind as to join me outside for a proper conversation? It’s suffocating in here.” He took one look at the empty space in the vault and pushed the door closed. “Now, people! I’ve had enough of your games.”

  Rake and Spinner took a step backward. Aurore fixed her uncle with cold eyes.

  Dale didn’t move. This couldn’t be. Why was the mayor here? How did he know?

  “Mr. Armstrong, I’m running out of patience here. I’ve got one hundred policemen outside, so don’t even think about resisting.” Ternchiev pointed at the exit and herded them all back to the vault room.

  Six men in uniform surrounded Cole, Cielo, and Renard, who had regrouped by the window. Hands hovered near holstered weapons.

  “Mr. Renard, I believe you’re needed in the yard,” Ternchiev said. “One of your crew members has been injured. My people will make sure you get everything you need.”

  Four officers herded Renard to the exit. He exchanged a look with Cielo, patted Cole on the shoulder, making him wince, and left the room with an easy stride.

  “You should have told me!” Aurore said as soon as they were left alone.

  “My dear, you saw them. They’re no good,” Ternchiev said in a fatherly tone.

  “All those years, you let me hope when you knew it was all a lie!”

  “Yes, I knew. And I was heartbroken for you.” The old man sighed. “But it’s better to hope for something than have no dreams at all. Besides, you’re perfect the way you are.”

  “Fuck perfect. I want my arms and legs back!”

  “These are your arms and legs, my dear.” Ternchiev reached out to touch her arm, but Aurore shrunk from the contact. His shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry you’re upset. In time, you’ll see I was right, even if I didn’t handle the matter in a manner of which you approve.”

  The dark glare Aurore gave him let everyone in the room know she didn’t think such a time would ever come.

  Ternchiev turned to Dale, his fingers laced behind his back. “I’m not happy with you, Mr. Armstrong. When I first saw you with my niece, I hoped you were here for a different reason. I’m disappointed to be proved wrong. And for such a trivial reason.”

  “It’s not a trivial reason,” Dale said. He shouldn’t have wasted time arguing with the mayor. If only he could take the power source and run. But he had a feeling the knife throwers wouldn’t be on his side, and he couldn’t fight one hundred policemen, the knife throwers, plus people with talents like Renard and the Nightingale had, and expect to survive. So he tried to explain. “There’s a plane leaving soon and heading east. It’s loaded with bombs. It will try to nuke the enemy’s defense line. If it passes through, it will go as far as possible and, hopefully, reach one of their bot factories and destroy it. We have intel on several locations we’ve never been able to reach before.”

  “Before?” Aurore asked.

  “There were other attempts,” Spinner said quietly, realization twisting his features into a grimace.

  “Several. We send the planes as soon as they’re out of the factory. Unfortunately, it takes months to build navigation systems resistant to their electric pulses, and the shields never last long. The power source would help with that, too.” Dale glanced at Ternchiev. The mayor hadn’t said a word. />
  “How come we never heard of any of this?” Aurore asked. “It should have been all over the news.”

  “We don’t advertise our failures,” Dale said. “The population needs to feel safe. This war has been going on for years, and it will continue like this if we don’t put an end to it.”

  “Plus, it’s a suicide mission,” Rake said. “The planes don’t return.”

  “They don’t?” Cielo gasped.

  “No, and we never heard from the pilots after the crashes, but that’s not a guarantee they’re dead,” Dale said. “They could be held prisoner. That’s further reason to get there.” He gave Ternchiev an insistent look. “With that power source, we can ditch the fuel and fill the plane with bombs fitted with navigation systems of their own. Imagine such an invasion. The enemy will never see it coming. I can hit at least a couple of bot factories—”

  “Until you’re shot down,” Spinner said.

  “If I survive, at least I’ll find out what happened to the other pilots.”

  “It’s not a question of if you’re shot down, but when …” Rake said.

  “You are going to pilot it?” Aurore asked Dale.

  “If I get the power source, yes.”

  Aurore’s fingers twitched.

  “So, you see—” Dale turned to Ternchiev, “—we need that power source. Big Dino can fix her prosthetics to work without it.” He gestured vaguely in Aurore’s direction.

  “That’s a compelling argument, but no,” Ternchiev said. “She needs the power source, and even if you cut her prosthetics off, we need it for the town, too. Tough times are coming. I won’t have my people freeze to death another winter.”

  They stared at each other, but Ternchiev didn’t budge. His bonhomie and laissez-faire look was gone. He was all business.

  “Now, what am I going to do with you?” Ternchiev clasped his hands. “You’ll go to jail, of course,” he told Dale. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t expect you to be there long. I’ll inform the European United Nation Council we have you in our custody, and I’m sure we’ll come to a mutually satisfactory agreement prior to your release. As for you…” He eyed the knife throwers. “I know better than to try to detain you. Go and tell Big Dino I expect compensation for all the trouble you caused.” He pointed at Cielo and Cole. “These two will stay.”