Clockwork Villains Read online

  He tilts his head slightly. “Impossible.”

  One word, no explanation.

  I shake my head. “And why is that?”

  “Because Dominic is a hologram, and you are an illegal alien. This is actually his buffer memory.” A woman appears just off to the right with both hands in the pockets of her long coat. She’s tall and wearing heels that would make my feet suffer for days. Her hue is a deeper shade of green.

  “I’m not a very patient person.”

  She nods. “Clearly.”

  “And I don’t like not knowing what is going on.”

  The woman shrugs, snaps her fingers, and in that instant two chairs appear in the middle of the room. “Please, have a seat.”

  I watch as she sits and waits for me to do the same. The hologram—Dominic—disappears without another word. Looks like I don’t have a choice in the matter. I take a seat and fidget when I realize the chair is too stiff. The moment that thought goes through my mind, the cushion softens.

  “I’ve authorized some privileges for the time being—sensory comfort.” She straightens her back. “Now then, I’m going to be rather blunt. You, Piper Sloan, are here because you boarded a train and triggered our firewall failsafe. All without a ticket. As such, you are ineligible to receive citizenship at this time.”

  I lean forward. “Is this RigMire?”

  She shrugs. “Yes and no. Both answers are correct.”

  “And who are you, exactly?”

  She smiles. “I’m the officer assigned to assess whether or not you are permitted entry to the main datastores or to the trashbin, if you will. It is one or the other; there is no in-between.”

  I lean back in my seat. “Do you enjoy being this mysterious?”

  She nods. “I do, yes. Perks of the job.”

  I take a deep breath and sit in complete silence. I’ve got this feeling that the more I talk, the more trouble I’m going to be finding myself in.

  She snaps her fingers and a table appears between us. “You know about the algorithm, yes?”

  Of course I do.

  I choose not to answer her. My silence doesn’t seem to make a difference—she continues regardless.

  “This is your time to make a case for why you should stay. Citizenship must be earned, and something tells me that your file won’t be any help in swaying my decision to—” Without warning, her form flickers. The expression on her face is one of discomfort. “Dominic?”

  The hologram appears beside her. “Yes, Ms. Cato.”

  Her form flickers again. “What is this interference?”

  The hologram closes his eyes. “Uncertain. Running preliminary diagnostic now.”

  She fades away, leaving an empty chair and an expressionless hologram. I stand, walk over to it, and reach out. It looks as if my hand should go right through him, but I can feel the fabric of his jacket.

  The sound of sizzling emanates from the ground beneath my feet and as I go to take a step back, Dominic collapses,his body twitching every few seconds. He looks like he needs help, and as I move to reach out and assess what’s going on, he freezes.

  “Piper?” The hologram quickly picks itself up off the ground as the walls fade from white to grey to red. “Ah, there you are.” He reaches out his hand. “This place is... rather strange, but I think I can navigate us to—”

  I shake my head. “Hold up... Robbie?”

  The hologram smiles. “Of course. Were you expecting someone else?”

  Truth is, I don’t know who I was expecting. The walls shift to a very dark red and then slowly fade to black. Robbie claps his hands together, and a doorway appears in seconds. He looks so comfortable—like he’s done this before.

  “We’re in a program. One that’s becoming rapidly unstable. Sorry, that’s my bad.” He sighs. “Piper, this is more my world than yours, I’m afraid. Do you trust me?”

  Robbie has been in my life for as long as I can remember. He’s always been the closest thing to family I’ve had. Although the questions have just started piling up and I have no idea what’s really going on, trust might just be the only viable option here.

  “I do.”

  Robbie smiles. “Good, then let’s go. This back door should get us somewhere we can catch our breath, so to speak. I still don’t understand the origins of that phrase.”

  He walks through the door first and disappears without so much as looking back. I take a deep breath and follow. My surroundings change just as quickly. I stop as my boots scrape against what feels like asphalt. A gust of wind carries the scent of cinnamon buns with it, and tall towers light up the skyline. I’m staring at a city—one that feels nothing like the room we were in before.

  “Piper.” Robbie changes his appearance slightly; gone is the red jacket and whistle, and in its place is a navy sweater and a pair of glasses, just like the ones my father used to wear. The shape of his face has changed slightly as well. He looks... quite handsome, actually. “We should move.” He snaps his fingers and the door fades away.

  “Where to?”

  He just starts walking. “Forward seems like a good start.”

  One foot in front of the other.

  I follow without question.

  3

  THE COLOUR OF LIFE

  THE SOUNDS OF SCREECHING TIRES FILL MY EARS, but there isn’t a vehicle in sight—there isn’t anyone in sight, for that matter. I hope I’m not losing my mind. Robbie walks just a step ahead of me and I can’t help but feel a little uneasy. He’s never had a form before—never been anything more than the circuits in the walls. How do I know he’s really that same mainframe?

  Cinnamon buns.

  “Piper?” He stops and motions towards the middle of the street. His facial features have shifted slightly. “I want to try something. This place is familiar—to me, at least. I think I can integrate with the core code.”

  I pause and watch as the moustache disappears from his face. “Robbie, how are you...?” I’m not sure how to ask the question.

  He smiles and touches his face. “My apologies. I’m playing with the holo-emitter matrix. It feels... well, gee, I’m not sure how to describe it. It’s like I could control everything if I wanted to. Everything is an extension of myself.”

  A large ding echoes like the warmup of a siren. Then, as we both look up, a voice speaks overhead. “Morning begins in three minutes and twenty-five seconds.”

  One by one the lights begin to illuminate in large towers all along the streets. They weren’t there before, were they?

  Robbie takes my hand and pulls me to a newly lit door across the way. “I don’t know what this is, but how about we find out?”

  I smile. “If you say so.” He’s acting more like a big brother than a mainframe caregiver.

  We step inside and the environment seems to shift like tiny pixeled puzzle pieces until we find ourselves standing in a bakery. The smell of cinnamon buns becomes faint in the presence of croissants and cookies. A few meters in front of us is a counter with three individuals rushing around behind it.

  One of them—a man with an oversized chef’s hat flopping to one side of his head—is the first to see us.

  “Flora?” He tries his best to flop the hat over to the other side. “Did you open the door? Why are you opening the doors before morning?”

  The shorter woman with hands covered in what looks like flour shakes her head. “Does it look like I could open the door? What does it matter, anyway? We can get a head start on business. You’re the one always preaching the quota.”

  Chef’s hat shakes his head. “That’s not the point. Any revenue we make between now and—”

  “Pappi, just ask them to wait the three minutes. I think they’ll understand.” A young woman carrying a small crate disappears to the back, but her voice still echoes. “If you’re worried about it, I’ll program some chairs.”

  Everything from the counters to the people has a slightly peachpuff hue. Robbie steps towards the rolling racks and pokes the l
oaves of bread on the slanted shelves. “Fascinating.”

  Two chairs appear to our left.

  “You must be new here.” The woman who was just carrying the crate appears behind us. “Welcome to the Blanched Almond—the finest bakery in this sector. My name’s Alice; please let me know if there is anything I can help you with.”

  I clear my throat. “How did you—”

  She smiles. “Know you’re new or appear behind you?”

  Robbie steps away from the racks. “How did you know to ask either of those questions?”

  “Well, first, you still have your colour.” She snaps her fingers and suddenly appears next to Robbie. “And second, we can all do things like this in our own mindspaces.”

  I sigh. “Colour?”

  She nods. “Oh, yes, you two are as green as they come—like little caterpillers scurrying about. I assume you’re waiting on assignment? After that, you get a mandatory hexcode.”

  Robbie offers a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Alice. Yes, we’re wandering around a bit—getting a feel for the place. Just got our tickets cashed this morning.”

  She shakes his hand. “My my, that is new. Come on, this must all be a little jarring. Where’s your program guide?” For a moment, Robbie looks like he’s not sure what to say. She pauses and pulls out what looks like a small marble. “Mine looks like this. It’s different for everyone, assigned during the transfer.” Without missing a beat, she presses the marble into her palm, leaving only the image of it behind as she pulls back her fingers. “Some people like tangible objects, otherwise it can be minimized into a dermal pocket.”

  It looks like a tattoo.

  Robbie reaches into his pockets and then goes to inspect his hands. “Hmm... I seem to have lost mine.” He’s not very good at lying.

  I quickly pat my own pockets and realize there is something in my left one.

  “Morning begins in ten seconds,” the voice from earlier booms.

  The man with the chef’s hat leans over the counter. “Alice! Stop flirting, we got work to do.”

  She sighs. “There’s never a dull moment in this place.”

  She vanishes as people begin appearing around us. Each has their own individual hue and they make their way around the bakery.

  Robbie pauses. “I don’t have a guide.”

  I reach into my pocket and pull out what looks like a black chess piece. “I’ve got this.”

  “A rook?”

  I nod. “It’s what I’ve got.”

  He takes it and starts rolling it around in the palm of his hand. “Fascinating. Very fascinating.”

  I roll my eyes. “You know, just saying that word doesn’t help me understand at all.”

  “Ever the impatient one.” He chuckles and begins squeezing both ends. “It’s a partially encrypted file. It’ll take me some time to examine the code.”

  “What isn’t encrypted on it?”

  He shrugs and hands it back to me. “Biometric data and personal details. That’s about it.”

  One by one, people come and go. It looks like they’re making purchases, but the goods seem to just disappear after payment. Not knowing everything is making me anxious.

  Robbie takes a seat and motions for me to do the same. “Piper, sometimes the best thing to do when exposed to new stimuli is observe the effects. Knowledge is power, after all.”

  I take a deep breath and do as he says. Everything feels like it is moving so quickly. Any lull is swiftly replaced with a flicker and then more people. The coming and going is constant. “Robbie.”

  He nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “How... how did you get here? Into this place, I mean. With me.”

  He doesn’t answer right away. It’s as if he’s choosing his next words carefully. “I had some help.”

  I lean forward. “From who?”

  “A young girl, but it’s a long story. I’ll tell you when things settle down a bit.”

  I believe him. His eyes emit this honesty I’ve never encountered before. Everything around him screams innocence.

  Innocence is a myth.

  My father’s words echo in the back of mind. Maybe—just maybe—he was wrong.

  4

  THE AURA OF CHANGE

  IT'S NO EXAGGERATION TO SAY that I’ve been making decisions for myself since I was about twelve years old. Before that I deferred to Robbie, and while I was the one doing the talking, he has always been a welcome guide—a presence which assured me that despite what it looked like, I wasn’t alone. In real time he’s probably about as old as I am.

  My father always thought about the big picture. Everything he did—even if it looked like something insignificant—had a purpose. He always said Robbie was an exercise to see if he could do something ‘out of the box’ for once. Now I can’t help but wonder if he was planning this very scenario while I was still in diapers. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

  “Piper?” Robbie leans forward in his seat—his left wrist glowing a slight shade of olivedrab. “Do you want to stay here?”

  Alice occasionally glances over from behind the counter. The Blanched Almond hasn’t gotten any slower. It feels as if we’ve been sitting here for hours, but I’m sure that can’t be right.

  “Why do you think people are buying this?” I sigh. “The food, I mean.”

  Robbie tilts his head slightly. “Why wouldn’t they? I thought humans saw food as a necessity—a delicacy even.”

  I nod. “No, I get that, but why here and why now? We’re energy, right? Or memory, I guess... I don’t know. Do we even need to eat?”

  He shrugs and grabs a muffin from one of the trays next to him. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”

  “What are you—”

  He takes a bite before I can finish. The small concave crater in the muffin looks moist and Robbie’s sudden facial expression looks very similar to how I feel whenever I get my hands on a piece of chocolate.

  “Piper, you have to try this. It is... well, unlike anything I’ve ever tasted before.”

  I shrug. “You’ve never tasted anything before.”

  He nods. “Also a true statement. What are these little specks?”

  I lean in to examine the crater. “Blueberries, I think.”

  Robbie takes another bite. “Maybe you’re looking at this the wrong way. Maybe the food isn’t a need, but a want?”

  Without warning, the man in the chef’s hat appears next to Robbie. “I hope you’ve got some credits on you. This ain’t a charity.”

  “Pappi!” Alice calls from behind the counter. “Leave them alone.”

  The man turns and shouts something in a language I don’t understand.

  Alice shakes her head. “Pappi, English. Don’t be rude.”

  The woman next to her, Flora, shakes her head. “If you want, we have samples up here you are welcome to try.”

  I go to speak, but Robbie snaps his fingers and appears before her in less than a second. I should learn how to do that.

  The man sighs. “The women in my family are too nice.” He then turns to me. “Don’t even think of taking advantage of them.”

  I raise my hands. “I’m not like that.”

  He turns back to the counter. “How am I supposed to know? You’re a stranger. There ain’t no trust here.”

  “Pappi!” Alice calls out again and the man snaps his fingers before disappearing.

  A few moments pass as the activity in the bakery starts to die down. The bell at the door is relatively silent, and as I walk towards the counter I see just how empty the shelves are.

  Robbie pulls up a stool next to a small display opposite the counter. Tiny scrunched sample cups look as though they’ve been the target of a massacre. He looks as if he’s glowing a slightly different shade now.

  “I finally understand.” He turns to me. “This is why humans change size.”

  “Umm... actually, no. That’s not...” I pause in an attempt to choose the right words. “There are fact
ors beyond...”

  Robbie sets down another sample cup. “My apologies. I’ve said something offensive, haven’t I?”

  “No—I mean, maybe. Everyone has their own relationship with food. It’s hard to explain.”

  Alice appears in front of us. “I couldn’t help but overhear. Have you never had baked goods before?”

  Robbie looks to me as if telepathically asking what he should say.

  I take a deep breath and answer for him. “No, we grew up on the west side of MagHaven.”

  Her eyes light up. “So did we. Whereabouts?”

  I grab a sample cup and poke the sliver of bread. “Near the mountainside. We didn’t really go into the downtown area much.”

  She smiles. “Aww... it’s great you earned your tickets together. We lived near the river’s end and commuted to our bakery. Pappi was the first to earn his ticket. He may seem gruff but he’s a real genius with some flour and an oven.” She leans in closer. “But this stuff is just for the masses. His real talent lies with the premium pastry.”

  “Alice!” Pappi’s voice booms and before he gets another word out, she disappears.

  This is quite the strange family.

  Robbie looks stunned. “You mean there’s more?”

  I take a bite of the bread and smile. “This is pretty good, actually.”

  He nods and hands me another small cup. “Try this, though. I think it might be my favourite.”

  Inside is a small dark brown square with more than a little caramel drizzle on top.

  I smile. “Oh, a brownie!”

  “It is what I imagine heaven to taste like—if heaven were a food, and could be consumed. Am I using the metaphor correctly?”

  I take a bite and can’t help but smile. “I have no idea, but you might be right. This could be heaven somewhere.”

  We make eye contact and all I can see is a kid learning about his likes and dislikes. It’s strange—actually, no, I suppose surreal would be the better word. I go to lean against the counter, but stop as I see the green hue of my hand shift to more of a crimson. I look to Robbie; his skin is doing the same.