“Robbie.”
He notices it too. “I’m not sure what’s happening.”
The patrons in the bakery all stop within seconds. Even Flora and Pappi pause mid-step.
Alice appears beside us. “I... umm... well...”
In a matter of seconds my gut instinct is to run. This shift is familiar, it mimics the moments just before the first punch is thrown in a bar fight. Everything around us gives off an air of danger.
Pappi reaches for something under the counter. “Rogue bytes.”
Those still inside quickly leave until only the five of us remain. Flora locks the door after them. I frantically snap my fingers, but nothing happens. This would be the perfect time to disappear.
“I think you have some explaining to do.” Pappi points to a button on the counter. “Give me a reason not to press this.”
I go to speak, but stop as Robbie pushes off his stool. “Because if you do, I’ll rewrite the root algorithm this building is standing on. Gone, just like that. Irreparable.”
Pappi shakes his head. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
No one moves as Robbie lets the remainder of his brownie fall to the ground.
5
THE FICKLE ADMINISTRATION
ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT SKILLS TO HAVE is to know when to cut your losses. My father used to say that business acumen was a side effect of selling his inventions. There will always be people trying to take advantage of a situation if you let them.
Reading people is an art form. I might not be smart or innovative, but I can usually figure out how to speak in a way where I end up with what I’m after—a talent I picked up from years of tending bar.
Robbie is different, though; I can’t read him—not like this. His reaction is out of character, at least I think it is. How does a machine act in a world of humans?
Pappi hasn’t broken eye contact. The button inches from his hand is menacing. I know it’s irrational to fear a button, but I do. I thought we were getting our bearings straightened out.
“Pappi?” Alice steps up to the counter. “Maybe we should take a breath—”
“No.” Pappi shakes his head.
She looks nervous. “We really don’t need—”
Robbie claps his hands and a small—almost transparent—command terminal appears in front of him. “You humans are accustomed to bluffing. I am not. I will corrupt and reformat this space. It is in your best interest to believe me.”
Flora steps away from the door. “All of this is bad for business.”
I take a deep breath and look down at my hands. “You called us rogue bytes. Why?”
Alice pauses and looks back and forth between Flora and Pappi. “Your new arrival status has worn off. You don’t have a designation. You’re criminals—a myth. Oh dear, I only skimmed that section of the program guide.”
“I’d bet my shop that you don’t have administrative access. Only system moderators do.” Pappi points at the button. “Your poker face is good but mine is—”
Robbie begins typing in the air. Within seconds the lights flicker and one of the industrial ovens fades until there is only an empty space where it was. “Humans need administrators to talk to the system. I do not.” He continues to type. “The system and I understand each other just fine as is.”
A loud bang echoes from the locked door. Flora jumps back. “Vincenzo...”
Pappi doesn’t falter. “You think you’re the first to intimidate me?”
Robbie closes his terminal. “The probability of that is relatively low. I don’t care about the past, only about the present. Piper and I are going to disappear, and you will not inform whatever authority is outside that door of anything. I hit you, you fell, and that oven...” he pauses and points to the empty space, “...has been on your list to replace for months.” Robbie snaps his fingers and what looks like a small doorway appears beside him. “Understand?”
The door opens as Robbie grabs my arm and pulls me through. It disappears behind us and for a moment I’m stunned. Everything around us appears translucent. Like the terminal.
I pull my arm away as he stops in his tracks. “Robbie, we have to go.”
“No, this is perfect.” He looks a little bit faded as well, with the outlines of numbers visible beneath his skin. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I were looking at a ghost.
“What did you do?” I get a glimpse of my arms. They’re just as faded as he is, but there are no numbers. “Robbie?”
He looks distracted. “I... I didn’t realize. How could I not have?”
“Robbie?”
He walks forward and kneels next to his fallen brownie. “Rest in peace, delicious little square.”
Alice is talking to Pappi, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. It’s like I’m watching a holovid on mute. Three figures enter the bakery, each with their features obscured. If anything, they look like grey shadows scurrying around the racks.
The button on the counter remains unpushed.
“Why can’t they see us?” I reach out to touch a shelf, but my hand goes through it.
Robbie sighs. “Because we’re hiding behind a layer of code. This whole place—even our bodies are made up of it. Anything can be programmed with the right knowledge.”
“And you have the right knowledge?”
He nods. “I’m a machine, Piper. This place is very similar to the servers in the house.”
“It’s just bigger.”
He smiles. “Exactly.”
I try to lean against a stool, but stumble through it instead. “So what now?”
“We’ll have to stay here. I’ve isolated the code. It’s safe, but it also means we’re a little trapped. It’s ok, though. Whoever these guys are, they don’t look like they can interact with the command terminal. If they could, they would have activated a doorway.”
“So, you’re like a wizard, then?”
“I don’t understand.”
I smile. “You can work magic here. No questions asked.”
He pauses. “There is no evidence in existence that suggests magic is real, Piper.”
“So literal.”
In that moment, one of the shadows approaches Pappi and presses the button in front of him. Everything in the bakery, including the isolated code we’re standing in, shifts from peachpuff to thistle.
Robbie shakes his head. “Well, that is unfortunate.”
I begin looking around frantically. “What’s happening?”
He sighs, opens his terminal, and manifests a nearly transparent cube in front of us. “Take a seat, please. I’ll be right back.”
I tilt my head. “Back from where? I thought we were trapped.”
He freezes in place. “In a manner of speaking.”
“Robbie...”
“You’re much more trapped than I am, though it can’t be helped. Your physiology is different. Trust me please, Piper. I shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.” He types something into his terminal and then disappears and for a moment I’m not sure what to think of it.
Alice points at the brownie on the floor as both Flora and Pappi are led to a couple of chairs. The man is strong, but I can see the hesitation in his eyes—he’s scared, and I’m not entirely sure why.
That is when I see one of the shadows touch Alice. She screams; at least, I think she’s screaming. I’m not sure whether the lack of sound is a blessing or a curse.
I take a seat on the cube and watch the scene unfold in front of me. There isn’t anything else I can do apart from that. The shadows move from person to person then from shelf to shelf before all three disappear into the back of the kitchen. Alice looks at Pappi and for a brief moment it seems as if they can read each other’s minds. The expression on her face shifts from fear to worry.
Her hand slides into her pocket, but Flora shakes her head almost instantly. I get that familiar feeling again—the eerie calm before the first punch. Then it is gone. Alice takes a deep breath, removes
her hand from her pocket, and waits.
The shadows reappear only a few seconds later.
6
THE GHOST IN THE MACHINE
ALICE HAD MENTIONED SOME KIND OF PROGRAM GUIDE earlier and for what feels like the last hour, I’ve been fiddling with the rook I had found in my pocket. Encrypted code she said. Where is Robbie? Maybe he could help me with this. Computers just aren’t my thing.
The scene before me looks like it is being performed by silent ghosts. The figures scouring the bakery are like reapers—hunched and searching for something I can’t see. Alice and Flora look nervous, but Pappi looks as if he’s about to break. His hands are trying to hide a subtle tremor. Flora rests her head on his shoulder and he seems to relax for a moment.
“My apologies, that took much longer than expected.” Robbie appears behind me with a backwards baseball cap on his head. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looked younger.
I take a deep breath. “Where did you go?”
He pauses. “Outside the city.”
“Back to MagHaven?”
He doesn’t speak right away. His facial expression doesn’t change, but the lengthy silence tells me he’s searching for words.
“Robbie?” I push off the cube. “It’s not a hard question. Where did you go?”
He sighs. “Back home. To the house.”
I smile. “That’s fantastic. How do you do it? Is there some kind of command you have to type into your floating keyboard? Wait, do I have one of those too or just you?”
“Just me, Piper, or rather those with the right circuitry. This is my interface. All I’m doing is returning to my body. Humans have separate tools.” He pauses. “I suppose it could look like a keyboard, but I’m not sure.”
His body? I hadn’t thought of it like that before, but I guess the house is the closest thing to a body he has. There’s a finality to his words. He has a body, but I don’t anymore. The memory of that hot searing pain fills my mind.
“It’s ok, you know. You don’t have to tiptoe around the subject.”
Robbie looks genuinely confused. “I don’t understand. What do you mean by tiptoe?”
I shrug. “It’s an expression. Means you can be direct with me.”
He nods. “Very well. You don’t have a body, at least not one I can locate. Even with the help of Miss Sasha, extracting your consciousness from RigMire’s mainframe will be challenging if you ever want to return to—”
“Miss Sasha?”
Robbie clears his throat. “Yes, ma’am. She... she has been a guest in the home for several months now.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Several months? What are you talking about?”
A loud crackle emanates from behind Robbie. He’s turning and typing almost immediately. For a moment our forms fluctuate from faded to clear.
“No, no, no.” Robbie starts typing faster. “They are breeching the encryption.”
“They?” I turn only to find myself standing face to face with one of the shadows from before.
Robbie takes a step back. “Piper, I’ve got to go again, but I’ll be—”
The shadow reaches out, touches my arm, and suddenly I’m standing in the bakery again. All eyes, including Pappi’s, are on me.
“Criminal!” He stands and waves a finger in my direction. “Do you have any idea how this inquiry is going to affect business?”
My aura is crimson—deep crimson.
“Robbie?” I turn and look back, but he’s not there.
Alice pushes off her seat. “Ok, you found her. We’ve complied with the defragment procedure. Please, can we just go back to the schedule now?”
The auras of all three figures fluctuate and then retract. I don’t understand. The woman holding my arm is dressed in military pants and a rather hefty looking vest. The two men next to Pappi are in similar attire. Their auras are all indigo.
“Defragging is a process. As citizens, you know that it cannot be interrupted. Our system says there were two fugitives. We have only found one.”
My arm, right where she is holding it, is starting to burn. It’s a strange sensation. She doesn’t react, but I can feel myself growing more and more uncomfortable.
I don’t know what’s happening. Without warning, I pull away from her and make a beeline for the door. No one moves as I struggle to get outside. I kick the handle twice before falling on my ass.
I don’t even realize I’m crying until the woman kneels next to me.
“What are you doing?” She looks at me—no, it feels like she’s judging me. “Stop this nonsense and get a hold of yourself.”
I shake my head. “You don’t understand. None of you do. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not...” I turn away. “I don’t want any of this. I just want to find my dad.”
She shakes her head. “Of course you wanted this. It was all in the fine print, remember?”
I don’t say anything.
She sighs. “Wipe your face and then let’s go.”
I move away from her until my back hits one of the racks. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”
The woman stands and motions for the other two men to come over. Each of them grabs an arm and pulls me to my feet. No one says anything for a long while.
“Unimportant; you are coming with me. End of story.” She pauses and begins typing in the air just like Robbie had done before. I thought he said only those with circuitry could do that.
The atmosphere in the bakery shifts as baked goods begin appearing on the shelves.
“I’m reinstating your business protocols. Please note that you are required to inform the commission if any sign of the other fugitive comes to your attention. I’ll have my bots check in for the next few cycles.” She then motions towards the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
Alice looks like she is going to speak, but doesn’t. There really isn’t anything else to say. The four of us step outside only to be faced with a barrier around the street. The woman begins typing and it dissipates almost instantaneously.
A portal-like doorway appears in front of us.
“Go on.” The woman speaks as the two men relinquish their hold. “I’d rather not have to drag you through.”
I do as I am told, and for a moment I am overcome with familiarity. As I step through, I find myself in a large open room. The woman and her associates follow as the portal closes behind us.
“Wasn’t that a little harsh, Talia?” That voice.
The woman shrugs. “You’re paying for authenticity and that is exactly what you got.”
I know who the man is by voice alone. He’s standing somewhere behind me. I refuse to look around. None of this feels right. It feels familiar, but not right.
“Dad?” When I finally do turn around, there’s no one there. Just me, the woman, and a big empty room.
7
THE MANIC MAINFRAME
"SOMETIMES I CAN'T HELP BUT WONDER whether or not I might be just a little bit crazy. During the years my father was gone, I took up the habit of talking to myself whenever Robbie was focusing on too many tasks to make conversation. There is only so much conversation a girl can have with her house anyway, but it’s different here. He’s different here. Can I even really call him a he? Machines are a mess of circuitry and gold-plated motherboards.
“I was instructed to show you around.” The woman’s—Talia’s—tone is calm with a hint of boredom.
I start pacing nervously around the room. “The voice...”
She nods. “Yes?”
“Where is it coming from?”
She points to the antique chandelier in the middle of the room. “It’s a neural beacon. Something Doctor Sloan has been working on for the last little while.” She pauses and begins typing into the air. “Anyway, we need to get a move on. I’ve got other jobs pending.”
This place is strange, and the people are even stranger. The more time I spend here, the more I feel as if I don’t belong. I always dreamed of getting a ticket and coming to R
igMire, but now I just want to go home. I’m not even sure if that’s possible.
Talia shows me the layout of this mansion with the enthusiasm of an injured turtle. Each room is empty—I mean, there’s furniture, but that’s about it. As I let my thoughts wander, I realize that this is no different than the halls I left behind in MagHaven.
“This is your room. Doctor Sloan has locked himself in the sub-basement laboratory for the foreseeable future, so I assume he is allowing you full access of the property until his return.”
“That is correct.” The voice speaks again.
I take a deep breath. “Dad?”
Silence.
Talia clears her throat. “If you need anything, ask for Georgie. Otherwise, I suggest staying on the premises. Your hue is still crimson.” She turns to leave.
“Georgie? Who’s that—”
A tall man with an orchid hue appears next to me. His vest is form-fitting and his shoes look too formal to be comfortable. “At your service, ma’am.”
Talia disappears, and for a moment neither Georgie nor I say anything else. I can’t stop staring at his sideburns. They make him look much older than his unlined skin would suggest. Come to think of it, I haven’t met anyone in this place who looks older than their mid-thirties.
“Are you... real?” I sit myself down in the nearest chair.
Georgie bows. “One’s definition of real depends on one’s views on the philosophical and the ethereal. By Doctor Sloan’s definition, I am a very real creation. Are you hungry? I am programmed to be proficient in countless forms of food preparation from dozens of cultures across the world.” He snaps his fingers and a chef’s hat appears on his head. “How about a ham and cheese omelette?”
That was my father’s favourite breakfast.
“Georgie.” I scan the room. “Are you integrated into the walls?”
He smiles. “I am integrated throughout the property, walls included.”
I nod. “I see, and where is my father?”
The chef’s hat disappears. “Doctor Sloan initiated the DND protocol five days ago and has not lifted any partitions. His whereabouts can be presumed but not confirmed.”
Clockwork Villains Page 3