The Defiant Spark

by Annie Percik

  ‘It’s hardly your fault. How were you to know? And you’ve got just as much right to be annoyed with Abelard as I do. Probably more. You’ve known him much longer and he didn’t let you know he was okay either.’

  ‘Yeah. We’ve been talking about what it would be like to be artisans for years. But apparently he doesn’t want to share it with me now that it’s happened to him.’

  The brain-e-fact security guard didn’t query their rapid reappearance as they exited the lev-e-fact and they left the building without interference. Outside they stood awkwardly on the street.

  ‘It was nice to meet you, at least,’ Jen said eventually. She cringed inwardly at how weak it sounded as the words left her lips.

  Mateo huffed a self-conscious laugh. ‘Yeah, you too. I guess I’ll see you around?’ He lifted one side of his mouth in half a smile as if acknowledging the lameness of his own statement.

  Jen smiled sadly back. ‘It doesn’t look like it.’

  ‘Hey, you don’t have to be involved with Abelard to be friends with me.’

  ‘Thanks, Mateo.’

  They looked at each other for a long moment.

  Then Jen said, ‘Okay well, bye then.’

  ‘Bye,’ Mateo echoed and they went their separate ways.

  Jen thought back over the events of the day and marvelled at how ridiculous they were in hindsight. How could she have imagined that a respected company like Gadg-E-Tech could be involved with kidnap and murder? Abelard should have let her know he wasn’t interested in her, but he didn’t owe her any more than that. By the time she arrived home she had almost convinced herself to laugh the whole thing off and store it away as an amusing anecdote to tell her friends on their next girls’ night out. It might have been fun to get to know Abelard better, but you couldn’t always judge a guy on first impressions.

  * * *

  Brain-e-fact Ten-Forty-Seven had just finished unloading one of the large dish-e-facts in the kitchen when he picked up a request broadcast over the internal Gadg-E-Tech mana network for a tray of food to be delivered to a human on the residential level. He sent an acknowledgement and went to work. Various dinner items were already in production so it was easy for Ten-Forty-Seven to select some and put them together on a tray. He added some orange juice and a pot of coffee and placed a cover over the top to protect it all on his journey upstairs.

  Ten-Forty-Seven travelled up to the twelfth floor of the building. He located the correct room, balanced the covered tray on one ceramic arm and knocked on the door.

  A male human voice called from the other side, ‘Come in!’

  Ten-Forty-Seven opened the door to the suite and entered the room. There was a young human seated on the sofa tying his shoelaces, though his torso was bare. His skin was pale brown and he had lots of thick dark curls that crowned his head. He looked up from his task and smiled at Ten-Forty-Seven. The brain-e-fact’s mouth was constructed to resemble a human smile so he was already providing the correct facial response.

  ‘Good evening,’ Ten-Forty-Seven said. ‘Mister Jonathan Worthington-Price sent me with your dinner. Where would you like the tray?’

  The young human gestured at the coffee table so Ten-Forty-Seven moved smoothly forwards and deposited the tray as instructed.

  ‘If you need anything else you can summon another brain-e-fact by pressing the call button.’ He indicated the panel on the wall by the door. ‘Good day.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ the young human said.

  ‘Can I be of further assistance?’ Ten-Forty-Seven asked.

  The young human stood up and approached him, circling him slowly. ‘Wow,’ he breathed. ‘I saw some other brain-e-facts down in reception when I arrived but I’ve never been this close to one before.’

  ‘We are exclusive to Gadg-E-Tech.’

  ‘I can see why they’d want to keep something like you to themselves. Can you stay and hang out for a bit while I eat?’

  ‘If you want me to stay in the room with you I can wait. But I can come back later to pick up the tray.’

  ‘No, I’d like some company over dinner. Can you sit with me and chat for a while?’

  ‘I have never been asked to chat before, but I will try.’

  ‘Great.’ The young human sat down on the sofa and uncovered the tray. ‘This looks delicious! Take a load off and tell me more about this place.’

  ‘Take a load of what off what?’

  ‘I meant sit down.’ The young human laughed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise you’d take me literally.’

  Ten-Forty-Seven moved to the other side of the sofa and sat down gingerly. He perched on the very edge of the seat, his arms raised slightly to provide balance.

  ‘That’s better,’ the young human said around a mouthful of food. ‘My name’s Abelard Abernathy. What’s yours?’

  For a third time the young human – Abelard – had asked Ten-Forty-Seven a question and the brain-e-fact did not understand his meaning. This whole conversation thing was proving quite problematical.

  ‘What is my what?’

  Abelard looked at him, fork paused on the way to his mouth. ‘Oh come on! That was an easy one surely. What’s your name?’

  ‘I do not have a name.’ Ten-Forty-Seven tapped his ceramic chest where a number was inscribed in the shiny surface. ‘All brain-e-facts are identified by their unit number. My number is Ten-Forty-Seven.’

  ‘You don’t have names?’ Abelard’s brow furrowed. ‘So all those brain-e-facts I’ve seen around the place are only ever referred to by a number?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s a bit harsh. Do you mind if I give you a name, just between us?’

  There was a pause while Ten-Forty-Seven considered the question.

  ‘If you want to call me something other than Ten-Forty-Seven, I do not mind. It is up to you.’

  ‘I’ll call you Terry then, if that’s okay,’ Abelard said.

  ‘That is fine.’ Ten-Forty-Seven lifted his head as an unfamiliar sensation flooded him. ‘I like it.’

  Abelard turned back to his meal. ‘So what do you do around here?’

  ‘I mostly work in the canteen. I serve the artisans when they come in for food and I carry food up here and carry empty trays back down again. Sometimes I load the dish-e-fact to clean the plates or help to prepare the food.’

  ‘That’s it? All you do all day is ferry stuff around and serve the food in the canteen?’

  ‘Yes. All day and all night.’

  ‘What?’ Abelard glanced up at him again. ‘You work round the clock?’

  ‘All the brain-e-facts do. We do not need to sleep or eat so we can work all the time. There are artisans here at all hours so there is always work to do.’

  ‘You don’t get any breaks?’

  ‘We spend half an hour in each twenty-four recharging our mana supply.’

  Abelard’s face twisted. ‘That doesn’t seem very fair.’

  Ten-Forty-Seven did not want to be the cause of a human’s distress so hurried to reassure him. ‘There is no need to worry. That is just the way things are. We were made to work so that is what we do. It is not a problem.’

  ‘But maybe it should be. Just because you go along with it doesn’t make it right. You seem like a good guy to me and it’s clear there’s a lot more to you than a normal artefact. You shouldn’t just have to serve artisans the whole time.’

  By this time he had finished his meal.

  Ten-Forty-Seven rose and collected the used plates and cutlery, stacking them neatly on to the tray.

  ‘I hope you enjoyed your dinner, Mister Abernathy. I will take the tray away now so you can get on with your day.’

  ‘Thanks, and call me Abelard. I’m going to be working at Gadg-E-Tech so feel free to stop me for a chat when you see me around.’

  Ten-Forty-Seven nodded. ‘I will do that.’

  ‘Oh, can you also do me a favour? Can you send some flowers to Alessandra Eriksen with a note saying I’m really sorry about what happened
? She works here too.’

  No human had ever asked Ten-Forty-Seven for a favour before but he assumed it was just like receiving instructions. He accessed the employee directory and sent the relevant commands to carry out the task.

  ‘It is done.’

  ‘Wow, thanks!’

  Ten-Forty-Seven turned and went to the door, opening it with one hand while balancing the tray with the other. He walked down the hallway to the bank of lev-e-facts at the far end, punched the call button and waited for the lev-e-fact to arrive. Once inside he pressed the button for the floor where the canteen was situated and stared at himself in the mirrored back wall. He looked in particular at the reflected digits engraved on his chest. The numbers had been his only label of identity since he had been activated. Until that evening.

  The doors opened on to the glass atrium of the canteen and Ten-Forty-Seven walked to the back of the open hall and through into the kitchen behind. He placed Abelard’s crockery into a dish-e-fact. He then stacked the tray with a pile of its identical fellows and turned to survey the bustling kitchen. There was a station open at the food preparation counter where several other brain-e-facts were arranging canapés on platters. Ten-Forty-Seven joined them.

  ‘Hello, Ten-Forty-Seven,’ said Sixteen-Twenty-Two.

  ‘I do not want to be called Ten-Forty-Seven any more. My name is Terry,’ said Terry.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jonathan re-entered the suite just a couple of minutes after Terry left.

  ‘I managed to catch up to Alessandra and convince her how important it is to teach you some bloody control. She’s right; you’re an absolute menace at the moment. She’s the best we’ve got but she’s not falling over herself to come back after you just set her on fire. You ought to watch yourself with her. She has influence. She’s not the sort of person you want as an enemy.’

  ‘Enemy definitely wasn’t what I was going for,’ Abelard said, his bedazzlement reasserting itself.

  Jonathan snorted. ‘Don’t even go there. Alessandra’s untouchable. She has a reputation for ruthlessness and with good reason. Besides, what about Jen? She’s much more in your league. And she came to face the mighty artisans to rescue you. Seems like you might actually be in with a chance there.’

  ‘Jen!’ The reality of her soft voice and kind eyes supplanted the wild fantasy images of Alessandra that had been romping through Abelard’s mind. ‘I have to explain to her what happened.’ He wished he could have asked the brain-e-fact to send her some flowers too, but he didn’t know where she lived and thought she might be embarrassed to receive them at her office.

  He staggered over to where his jacket was draped over the back of a chair and found his smart-e-fact in the inside pocket, but it was dead.

  ‘Huh. That was fully charged yesterday. It should have been good for at least a couple more days.’

  ‘It’s company policy not to allow network communication artefacts to work inside the building. Mateo and Jen thought you were in trouble because they couldn’t get hold of you. You can call from a hard line but it will be recorded.’

  The last thing Abelard wanted was an audience for what he imagined would be a painful conversation.

  ‘But if I step outside the building my smart-e will work again?’

  ‘Yes, but we can’t let you leave while you still pose a danger to yourself and others.’

  The Gadg-E-Tech communications policy was pretty absurd if people could just step outside the front door and call whoever they liked without surveillance. But Abelard focused on the other aspect of what Jonathan was saying.

  ‘So you are keeping me prisoner!’

  ‘Only in the interests of public safety. We can’t risk an incident where Gadg-E-Tech could be blamed for letting a dangerously unstable individual loose in the city.’

  ‘I’m hardly Godzilla! And I won’t be loose in the city if I just step outside to make a call. You could come with me to make sure I don’t blow anything up.’

  ‘Not a chance. I’m no expert in mana control. I wouldn’t be much use if things really went wrong.’

  ‘This is ridiculous! You can’t keep me here against my will!’

  Jonathan squared himself in the doorway, stretched out an arm and beckoned with the fingers on that hand. ‘Come on then, if you think you’re hard enough.’

  Abelard’s overstrained body ached at the thought of even making it as far as the door. He slumped back on to the sofa in defeat.

  ‘Okay, you win. I’ll be a good boy and do as I’m told.’

  ‘Excellent choice.’ Jonathan grinned. ‘Now, how do you feel about getting out of this room and visiting the canteen? I know you’ve only just eaten, but we could get a smoothie or something. Do you think you’re up to that?’

  Abelard felt dreadful, from both physical exertion and emotional upheaval. But he was keen to find out more about Gadg-E-Tech and the best way to do that would be to explore the building and get Jonathan talking. He didn’t want to make his first foray amongst the artisans looking like a demented tramp, though.

  ‘Could I get cleaned up and change my clothes first?’

  ‘Definitely a good plan,’ Jonathan said. ‘I’ll go and scrounge up some clothes for you while you take a shower.’

  Fifteen minutes later, Abelard emerged from the bathroom to find a Gadg-E-Tech branded pair of sweatpants and a polo shirt laid on the bed. Jonathan was lounging on the sofa in the other room when he came back through.

  ‘Well, you look just about presentable.’

  Abelard glared at him. ‘Great. By the way, if you won’t let me leave the building for fear of me accidentally destroying the city, what’s to stop me blowing up the building from the inside?’

  ‘Uh, nothing I guess. But if I keep an eye on you I might be able to see it coming and tell anyone nearby to hit the deck before you go off.’

  ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’

  ‘Joking aside, I think we’ll be okay as long as we keep you away from charged artefacts.’

  ‘But this is an artisan head office building. Won’t there be charged artefacts all over the place?’

  ‘Good point.’ Jonathan looked uncertain. ‘Maybe we should stay here.’

  ‘No,’ Abelard said, kicking himself for putting a spanner in the works. ‘I want to get out of here, even if it’s only as far as the canteen. I’ll just be careful not to touch anything.’

  Jonathan chewed his bottom lip, but nodded. He led the way down the corridor at a leisurely pace, keeping an anxious eye on Abelard all the way. Abelard wasn’t sure if Jonathan was more worried about him falling over or spontaneously combusting. He just focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

  Jonathan hesitated in front of the bank of lev-e-facts, his hand hovering over the call button.

  ‘Oh, come on,’ Abelard said. ‘I’m not going to blow up the lev-es. I’ve used one several times every day since the incident at Jen’s office and nothing’s happened so far. And there’s no way I’m going to be able to handle the stairs.’

  Jonathan braced himself and hit the button.

  * * *

  Walter glared at Laleh across the table at Brother Theobold’s temple.

  ‘Sometimes I wonder what we’re actually trying to achieve here.’

  She stared back. ‘And you think making spontaneous artisans disappear would further our aims more than helping them be productive members of artisan society? The phenomenon in and of itself leads us ever closer to a time when the truth will have to come out.’

  ‘The world isn’t ready.’

  ‘I agree.’ Laleh’s eyes flashed. ‘But I don’t think it’s ready for artisan death squads either.’

  At the head of the table, Brother Theobold’s eyes widened. ‘Indeed no. We are trying to bring about a gradual progression towards greater freedom and equality. Our secret is not so terrible that we should contemplate strong-arm tactics to keep it. I’ve only ever wanted to keep people safe.’

  Walter turned t
o him. ‘Yes, but this engineer represents a far greater threat to our position than Gerald Simpson. Don’t you think the situation requires some more stringent monitoring?’

  Theobold looked to Laleh. ‘Isn’t your daughter in charge of the engineer’s training?’

  ‘Yes. Walter, you’ll be able to get whatever information you want from Alessandra. As will I.’

  So Alessandra hadn’t told her mother about the break-up. That was interesting. Perhaps it meant she wasn’t as secure in her decision as she had appeared.

  Walter smiled. ‘But Alessandra, skilled as she is, doesn’t fully understand the ramifications of what we’re dealing with. She won’t know what might be important to pass on to us. Have you given any more thought to bringing her into the Inner Circle?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Laleh said, her eyes now sad. ‘Let her live her life a little while longer before she has to contend with all this.’ She gestured at their surroundings and shivered, perhaps not just from the cold.