Ruby skipped down the stairs with an ease that Nell utterly envied. She rubbed her knees, thought: Soon, soon. Ruby called over her shoulder, “Don’t run away on me!” as if Nell had any choice at all in the matter.
“Sure,” she replied, still steadying her breathing. “Sounds grand.” Running. That was a long, inconvenient way off yet. Her sarcasm disappeared into the empty hallway.
Ruby appeared again at the bottom of the stairs and cleared her throat theatrically. “Miss Crane, in lieu of your oncoming wardrobe, it is my pleasure to present to you this fine, drizzly morning, the Premier Underwood Android Collection for Autumn and Winter.”
The kitchen door swung open with a flourish. Nell gasped.
Io emerged, but hardly as Nell knew him. Ruby had made him clothes.
His shirt was informal, a heather gray linen with tiny bronze buttons tailored to his form. Ruby had rolled up one of his sleeves. His trousers were charcoal, cut just above his ankles, as was the style in the city that year. A red woolen scarf was slung about his neck cavalier, and as he paraded the hallway, he flung a length of it over his shoulder, delighted with himself. Ruby applauded his performance, and Nell was breathless with laughter. She clapped wildly as he pivoted, and Ruby fussed around him.
Io still looked like six and a half feet of metal. He was still mismatched and clunky, still almost faceless. But Ruby’s wrapping him in good tailored fabric brought him just a little closer to being human, at least from where Nell sat. She put her hand to her chest as her creation danced about with her best friend. A wave of pride, and relief, rolled through her. Life could look like this. The sound of laughter in the halls of the Crane house didn’t have to be so scarce, didn’t have to feel like a threat. She looked at the still closed door to her father’s lab. She hoped he could hear them. She hoped he was curious.
“Well?” Ruby demanded, teasing. “On a scale of, let me see, one to Ruby, you are a genius, where have I landed?”
Io began to ascend the staircase toward her. “Do you like it, Nell?”
Nell nodded, grinning, and he sat down beside her on the stairs. She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, holding her delight. The fabric of Io’s new clothes smelled fresh and clean.
“I like it, too,” Io said to her quietly. “Very much.”
Ruby stood at the bottom of the stairs, hands on her hips, very pleased with herself.
“Next, I’ll be setting you up with a jacket. I have just the tweed in mind. Maybe a hat with a dashing brim for the winter? You’ll be the talk of the whole city. Forget your body; everyone’ll be asking who composed that dapper ensemble!” Ruby whirled toward the front door in a pantomime of her future success, thanking invisible fans for their esteem and compliments. “Why, yes! I do sew everything myself!” and “No, no, these hands aren’t augmented!”
She blew kisses and leaned against the hall door. “Nellie, I hate to tell you, but I get the feeling my star is going to rise even higher than yours! The Marvelous Miraculous Ruby Underwood!”
And then, as if the universe had got wind that they were having just a little too much fun, an unusual sound came from out beyond the front garden.
A purr of engine, the riff of a vehicle pulling in, pulling back, parking. A car. Outside. Ruby’s and Nell’s eyes connected. No one in the Pale had a car.
“Open the door,” said Nell, the chime suddenly ricocheting through her body, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.
Ruby wrapped her hand around the knob and pulled. The day opened up before them. Nell couldn’t see what Ruby could at the bottom of the garden, so she stood up and took some creaky steps down the flight of stairs.
A white albatross of a car. A woman removing a case from the boot. Dread rose over Nell, the heap of unanswered letters in her mind’s eye.
Nan was here. Her recent silence had been a summoning.
“Close the door!” Nell called out, and Ruby slammed it shut.
“Io, go to my room!”
Io looked down to Nell, and Nell looked up to Io. He registered her urgency and rose quickly to disappear across the landing into Nell’s room.
Five rhythmic and stern raps at the door. Rat-tat-a-tat-tat.
“Nell, it’s your grandmother!” whispered Ruby, clasping her hands over her mouth as though the word were a curse, or a spell gone wrong, as if she’d conjured her up herself.
“Let her in,” Nell said. “Let her in.”
CHAPTER 15
As Nan Starling walked into the Crane house, something in the architecture seemed to shift to her will. She illuminated the hallway. The cobwebs suddenly became ashamed of themselves; the dust cowered at her gaze. Under her eyes, the house reminded itself it had once belonged to her. Her assistant and the white car disappeared. She carried a single case, leather, quilted, cream, not even big enough to imply she was staying for long.
She was cloaked in dove and fog linen, the barest suggestion of rain on her shoulders, glimmering on her silvery hair. Short and soft bodied, she was the brightest thing for miles. The creases in her face were deep but elegant; her brown skin was still supple for all her years.
She turned first to Ruby, taking her all in. “Well, well, Miss Underwood, how you’ve grown. You look fit for work! Whatever have you been up to with your pins and tape?”
Nell didn’t say anything. Nan hadn’t clocked her yet. Nell hadn’t seen her in a long time, only her ink on paper. She seemed shorter to her, smaller. An impulse ran through Nell to tear down the stairs and throw herself upon her grandmother, to inhale the incense and cotton of her, to find safety in her arms, but she held strong.
Her eyes flicked to Julian’s door. He’d be coming out soon. He’d have to, now that Nan was here.
“Miss Starling—” Ruby began, but Nan interrupted.
“Oh, I’m well beyond miss, dear. Nan, I’m just Nan now. That’ll do just fine.” Her voice was accented with the grandeur of the Pasture, glinting like the edge of a coin.
“I—I was making—I was about to measure Nell for some new clothes,” Ruby stammered, all her flare fizzled out. Ruby had been in the way of Nan Starling only a couple of times that Nell could recall. She held far more reverence for the dowager, for the oracle than Nell did.
“Penelope.”
Nan looked across the hallway and up the stairs to her grandchild.
Nell stood on the stairway, her hands clasped together, chiming alarm.
“Aren’t you going to come down to me? Say hello?” Nan demanded.
Nell placed one hand on the banister and slowly began to lower herself down the rest of the stairs. “I’m sorry if I’m slow. I’ve had an operation.”
Nan had grown older since Nell had last seen her, but her presence still felt celestial, as if her glow would have been too big for any room, and the closer she got, the more Nell could feel her pull.
“I know about the operation,” Nan said, watching her descend, “though you should be well back up on your feet by now.”
“I am well back on my feet. I’m still just a little slow.” Nell found herself childlike, indignant, and moved faster to prove herself. She made it to the ground and over to the old woman. Nan’s arms were already extended, awaiting embrace. Nell leaned into her chest, buried her face in her grandmother’s neck, the scent of her perfume and sacred powders filling her nose, too much, too dense.
“No matter now, girleen,” Nan said, patting Nell’s back fondly. “As soon as we get you down to the estate, you’ll be leaping around in no time. Lots of space to heal. The air will do you some good.”
“Sorry, did you just say—are you taking Nell to—” Ruby piped up immediately. Nan was unperturbed and gently released Nell from her embrace.
Nan’s eyes were dark pools now. “I presumed Julian had filled you in. Does this mean you’re not packed?”
Nell blinked at her and shot Ruby a look. Ruby shook her head, mouth slightly agape.
“That boy,” Nan said, as though she w
ere remarking on a ten–year-old who’d accidentally broken a window. Her composure was pristine; her tone, clipped. “Well, since he’s got his head under the bonnet of some project or other day in day out, I suppose he can’t really be trusted to deliver information in a timely and appropriate manner. He and I agreed that after your little incident you should come stay with me. You’ll better recover out of the way of any errant . . . machines.” Nan just about hissed machines like a curse, the name of a demon.
“What did he tell you?” Nell asked. Her pulse thundered. Nan must know everything. Nan must have seen all this somehow in tea leaves or in a mirror; she must know Io was just a few feet away.
“Penelope, I know there’s an android in the house. I appreciate your attempts at making a, well, revolutionary contribution—your father spoke very highly of your intent—but neither you nor this city is prepared for the changes that a sentient machine will bring about. Computers ruptured how people speak to one another; they tore away the stitching of how our society works. Whole towns of people didn’t speak a word aloud for years before the Turn, so greedy for information, for the silent sanctuary of their digital world! You think you’re missing a bigger conversation? The world out there is alive, but it’s silent. And consider the many people living on this island who would rather know nothing that came before the Turn. Think about the grief.” She grabbed Nell’s arm tightly. “Think about the horror in that history, Nell. And you’re going to dig it all up? You’re going to switch on all the dead and sick computers? Irresponsible, Nell. Some things are best left gone, best left switched off.” She released her grip and pointed to the kitchen door. “Ruby, go put the kettle on while I help Nell gather her things.”
Nan was matter-of-fact, no fuss, no nonsense, uprooting Nell’s life without the bat of an eyelid. She was not a woman to be disobeyed.
Ruby flashed Nell a look that signaled both “I’m sorry!” and “I’m out!” all at once and disappeared into the kitchen.
As Nan went to ascend the creaky stairs, Nell raised her hand to stop her. The word irresponsible thrummed through her body, and a courage overcame her, a terrible clarity. Nell peeled the Medi-Patch off her arm and folded it over itself, then placed it into one of her pockets. She was done.
“Io?” she called. “Could you please come downstairs?”
The tall robot, all dressed in his finery, peered around her bedroom door, then walked to the top of the stairs. Nell beckoned him forward. He cocked his head to the side. “Are you sure?”
“Quite sure, thank you. I have someone for you to meet,” Nell chirped, hoping to disguise her searing nerves with brazen cheek. Io descended without a moment of hesitation. Nell looked to her horrified grandmother, who had begun to back away quite slowly, her immaculate composure flickering.
Io said, “You must be Nan Starling. I am Io. I am very pleased to meet you.”
Nell noticed that Nan quietly produced from her pocket a small chain of crystals and began to run them through her fingers. Empowered by this tiny ritual, she stopped retreating and planted her feet firmly. When was the last time Nan had seen something—someone like Io? Never. She’d have been born just after the machines fell. He was an effigy from history books and cautionary tales out in the Pasture. His very existence was blasphemy, his head full of scrolling code, his life artificial and cold. The old woman kept the crystals in her hand and said, “Penelope, what have you done?”
“Oh, it’s quite all right, Nan,” Nell said, clasping her hands together to stop them from shaking. “Io is very kind. He carried me all the way from the old motorway when my chest broke down. He’s been caring for me during my recovery since Da is extremely preoccupied in his laboratory. Io has been nothing but a gentleman,” she said, more than a little for show, more than a little in spite.
“Thank you, Nell,” Io said. He placed a hand on Nell’s shoulder and squeezed it. He looked to Nan then. “Can we offer you a cup of tea?”
Nan just blinked silently, but Io was unperturbed. “Is that labradorite in your hands? It’s considered an excellent healing stone, and that obsidian is most definitely useful in warding off danger.” Nell felt a smile almost surface; Io’s calm was the perfect counterpoint to Nan’s repulsion.
Nan took a deep breath. “Yes, yes, that is correct.” Her voice was still steady and sharp. “Ruby is in the kitchen; she will have the tea prepared.”
“Io knows lots of things, Nan,” Nell started, thinking that maybe if she behaved as though she were still under the influence, she might get a little leeway. “He’s been making all the meals in the house. They’re always perfect!”
“If I could connect to the Internet, I’d have access to more,” Io chirped as they entered the kitchen. Over her shoulder Nell was sure she heard Nan gasp at the word Internet: heresy. Even the thought of it went against everything she had built her whole life in the Pasture around.
Nell supposed she should respect that or at least acknowledge the power and value that faith had to the healed. But of course they believed in a god out there. The jagged silhouette of the big smoky town didn’t even stain their horizon. They didn’t live in the city barely yet on its feet. Everything around them was beautiful. That’s what she’d loved about the world out there. How selfish a thing, but how true. What need had they for computers, for answers about the past, for androids? Prayers were enough for them. But that wasn’t enough for Nell.
The laboratory door swung open so suddenly it crashed against the adjacent wall, and the whole house moved from the assault. Julian materialized, stepping casually into the kitchen as though he hadn’t nearly shook all the cups and saucers off the shelves. Ruby fussed about, tidying away her impromptu tailor’s suite and preparing for a swift exit. She was leagues out of her depth in this production.
Julian was a crow in a lab coat, gaunt, dark, hair wild. He didn’t even look at his daughter. He took off his gloves to shake Nan’s hand. “Nikita.”
“Six hours on the motorway, Julian,” Nan replied icily. “I didn’t expect a procession , but this isn’t exactly a welcome. You didn’t tell Nell anything.”
Nell shot Ruby a glance; the true awfulness of being present for a conversation about herself was only heightened by the embarrassment of its happening in front of Ruby.
“I only had her brought back around a few days ago. I was going to tell her when she was back on her feet. I didn’t expect you so soon.”
Julian was petulant, his arms crossed. Nell had never seen him like this before, making excuses, being scolded. He looked very young.
Nan was restored to all her former poise. “I told you I’d be here on the afternoon of the twentieth.”
Julian uncrossed his arms, then crossed them again. “I was busy.”
Without a moment to humor his petulance, Nan matter-of-factly stated, “I’ll be leaving with her this evening, so you’d best help pack her things given that she’s barely walking on her own. I’m surprised you left her to the android rather than provide adequate physical rehabilitation, Dr. Crane.”
Nell’s head swam. They were serious. Nan had intended to just swoop in, slap her father’s wrist for his neglect, tuck her into the white car, and whisk her away from her life, out of this house.
“Are you going somewhere?” Io asked, beginning to sit down, alarm in his voice. Nell shook her head.
“As it happens,” Julian interjected, only looking to Io for a moment before returning his glare to Nan, “Nell isn’t going anywhere, Nikita.”
“What do you mean?” Nan snapped. “You agreed to this weeks ago, Julian; you’ve had plenty of time.”
“Look, the new technology in her chest is an incredible example of the advances I’ve made. She’ll need to be displayed to the council as a further contribution. I can’t have her out in the middle of nowhere when I need her for work.” Julian was attempting to stay calm, but his voice was erratic. He didn’t want Nan here. Ruby looked as if she wanted to fall through the earth. Nell felt her eyes unf
ocus, rage a climbing pyre inside her. Displayed. Contribution. She felt it boil up to her throat in a scream but contained herself as her father kept talking.
“And as for the robot, I’ve been studying it closely since the incident. Nell’s not prepared for the impact it could have on her: these computers are programmed to be such good mimics that they can manipulate us into experiencing all kinds of feelings. Nell’s too naive for it, I can’t risk her getting notions about herself; she’s more valuable as a contribution than Io in the long run. I’ll be taking the sentience strip and resetting it and putting it to better use.”
As Julian spoke, Io reached out his hand and took Nell’s as she trembled with fury. Her father hadn’t been designing a friend for Io; he’d been constructing a replacement of his own design. Not only this, but outlining how to present his daughter to the council.
Nell his contribution. His greatest invention. More grandeur for him, more proof of his excellence. It rang even now in Nell’s chest: a victory bell. She wished she could undo the seams of her scar and take every inch of what her father had put in her out again, a bloody exorcism of steel.
But Nell kept her nerve. This was not the time to burn down the house, to rise up into a righteous storm. That had never gotten her anywhere. She’d get past him just how he got past her, again and again: closed doors and distractions.
“Can I please have a moment alone with Ruby, to see her off, say good-bye? Before we—we, get into this?” Nell had no idea how she managed to measure her voice—her resolve more steel than in her chest.
Nan and Julian exchanged a look. “Yes,” and “Of course,” they replied, and Ruby looked as if someone had just turned the key to release her from a room with a falling ceiling.
“Thank you!” she burst, making for the door. Io and Nell followed, her chiming a flaming cathedral all the while.
CHAPTER 16
The three of them stood in the hallway again, a huddle, as though amid the debris and aftermath of their runway, their parade.
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