“Pip.” My father is next to me instantly with his drink in one hand and the one I left on the side table in the other. “You need to tell me—”
I knock the glass out of his grasp. It plummets over the balcony and I watch it fall, but don’t hear it shatter as it hits the ground below. “You know, I don’t think my story really matters to you. Correct me if I’m wrong.”
“You are.”
I chuckle. “You say that, but actions speak louder than words, and inactions are just as prevalent.”
“I need to understand how you got here if you didn’t agree to the terms and conditions.” He pulls the memo pad out of his pocket. “How did you even get on the train? Did you earn a ticket?”
“No, of course not. Bartenders don’t earn tickets. We just pour drinks and listen to what other people have to say.”
For the first time since he appeared in this room, my father expresses emotion—real emotion. He looks over with a hint of sadness in his eyes. “You’re... you’re a bartender?” The memo pad in his hands disappears. “But... why?”
I lean against the railing. “Why? What do you mean why?”
“I mean, you’re my daughter. You have talent and ambition. Earning your ticket should have been easy with my name alone.”
I shake my head. “How much of an asshole are you? Your name created an unobtainable barrier, and I spent many nights staring at it without any idea of how to get there.”
“But this should have been easy—”
“For who? You? Maybe.”
“For Robbie. I built him for one purpose, and obviously he failed.”
I take a deep breath. “Robbie has nothing to do with this.”
My father starts tapping his pen against his thigh. “He has everything to do with this. I created him to take care of you.”
I nod. “And he did. He got me out of bed every morning, cooked me three balanced meals that tasted relatively decent, and made sure I took every opportunity that came my way.”
My father shakes his head. “If he did that, then—”
“He also made sure I knew who you were, even though you were never around.” Silence fills the air between us as my father makes his way back inside. That probably hurt him—at least, I’m hoping it did. I want him to understand that being alone is hard and painful. Robbie did what he could, but he also is a house, not a human. “So, that’s it? Not going to respond at all?”
He sighs. “What do you want me to say, Piper? It was my time to go, and I left you with everything a father is supposed to provide. I gave you a roof over your head, made sure you didn’t starve, and left you with a caregiver to see to your well-being. My obligations as a father were fulfilled.”
I storm back inside. “Your obligations as a father? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“One of RigMire’s greatest minds, and one of the only reasons the world hasn’t gone to shit. I thought you knew that.”
I recognize the woman sitting in my father’s chair as the same one who greeted me when I first entered this giant hardrive. What was her name?
“Ms. Cato, punctual as usual.” My father pours himself another whiskey. You’ve met my daughter.”
She smiles. “She’s a slippery one. She and her friend were proving to be quite troublesome there for a bit. Speaking of which, where is the rogue program?”
My father shrugs. “Had a run-in with Georgie.”
She nods. “Well, then, I trust he won’t be any trouble for the foreseeable future.”
“A safe assumption.” He takes a sip of his drink.
They’re talking like I’m not there. Part of me wants to have a tantrum like a small child, but the rational part of my brain is telling me to just sneak out and leave.
“She tells me she didn’t sign the terms; is that true?” My father swirls his whiskey.
Ms. Cato sighs. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”
He sets down his glass. “Seems pretty simple to me. She either agreed or didn’t. If it’s the former, then we shouldn’t be having this conversation at all.”
“Miles—”
My father shakes his head. “Explain it to me. No need to go slow. I’m pretty sure I’ll understand, either way.”
I step out of the room without either one of them noticing. There has to be a way out of here. I need to find Robbie and make sure he’s ok. I take a deep breath, but stop at the sound of someone clearing their throat.
“Let’s not do this again, please. I’m quite done with playing cat and mouse.” Ms. Cato puts a hand on my shoulder and suddenly I’m back in the middle of my father’s study.
11
THE GHOST OF A GIRL
NOW MORE THAN EVER, I feel as if my life is spiralling one way and I don’t have the tools with which to change it. I thought stowing away on the train would lead me to the life I wanted—one in which I would be able to prove my worth to myself. It’s never been about gaining the acceptance of others, not really, anyway. I wanted to see my father, yes, but when it actually happened I came to an epiphany; I never needed this man, not even a little.
Even now the conversation between him and Ms. Cato has continued. Both speak as if I am an object—a commodity to be bartered for.
“Send her back.” My father pours himself another whiskey. “No consent, no entry.”
Ms. Cato shakes her head. “It’s not that simple.”
“And why not?”
She sighs and looks directly at me. “There is nothing to send her back to.”
The silence is immediate, and I start backing away until Georgie appears next to me with a tray tucked under his arm. He maintains a neutral expression as my father sets down his glass.
“You’re making excuses, Elizabeth.”
She sighs and looks at me. “Basically, we’re at an impasse here. You are not our standard of citizen but we can’t send you back the way you came because there isn’t so much as a shell to put you in. Despite whatever your impressions of us are, we are not inhumane. Sticking you in a drive cube and leaving you on the surface would go against your rights as a human being, but maybe it would serve as a character-building experience. You did break the rules, after all.”
My father nods. “But the city broke a bigger one. The offences are not comparable.”
I take a deep breath. “You’re talking like there are no options.”
She shrugs. “RigMire has never had any reason to build a prison so we have nowhere to put you. The heart of the matter is that you can’t stay here, but kicking you out isn’t a viable option either.” She pauses. “What can you contribute to our society?”
I let the question sit with me for a few moments. If I’m being honest, that question has been sitting with me for a long time. I’ve never thought of an answer.
I take a deep breath. “I’m curious, Ms. Cato; how does one judge one’s worth to a society?”
She sighs. “Oh, come now, there isn’t a citizen in MagHaven who doesn’t know of the algorithm.”
I nod. “Yes, but what are the parameters of the algorithm? Are the contributions exclusive to the economy? Functionality? Or is there an emotional angle to be considered as well. I may not be the smartest or the most hands-on person, but I know people. I know their aspirations and their fears—I know how to talk and I know how to listen.”
My father chuckles in his seat. “No one is disputing that.”
I ignore him. “I don’t understand why people would choose to willingly give up their bodies for this existence anyway.”
My father shakes his head. “You came on the train, but you didn’t watch the welcome video, did you?”
Ms. Cato turns to Georgie. “I think we’re going to need the theatre room.”
Georgie bows. “Of course, ma’am.”
I watch as the bookshelves disappear, revealing a large screen in their place. I can’t see the projector, but video appears on the screen just the same.
The image of the train hologram,
Dominic, fills the picture. He is smiling as he addresses us. “Welcome, ticket holders. If you are here, then you have proven yourselves to be the best and brightest of MagHaven. The algorithm has selected you to take the next steps in human evolution. This accomplishment should not be taken lightly and we encourage every passenger to celebrate for the duration of travel.” The picture shifts from Dominic to a bird’s eye view of RigMire. “Both MagHaven and RigMire were originally constructed by the Suo Corporation in an effort to combat the growing climate shift which threatens to re-shape the planet’s surface. While humanity has adapted to such changes in the past, the certainty of survival from this one has projections of being marginal at best.” The picture shifts to a white room. “RigMire is a community created to save lives. By earning your ticket, you have proven that you have the skillset necessary to help rebuild the world. Your safety and security is our number one concern.” Dominic reappears in the room. “Entrance into RigMire means that you will survive and help save countless lives. Before docking into the city, please be sure to read the terms and conditions set out in the next room. Doing so will ensure your place in history.”
And with those final words, the video stops. Georgie takes away the empty bottle of whiskey next to my father’s glass and replaces it with a fresh one.
“Are all the residents of RigMire employees, then?” I look to Ms. Cato. “Or am I missing something?”
She smiles. “No, that’s exactly right. I’m glad you understand. To date, we have the highest population of any other city within the Twelve. We are saving lives.”
I shake my head. “How is that exactly? By existing digitally?”
She nods. “Here we can program anything our minds desire. I want to change my appearance? Code. I want to shamelessly eat an entire chocolate cake? Code. Here I am entitled to luxury in exchange for lifetime employment. When the time comes to help rebuild, every last citizen must do just that. This is the calm before the storm.”
“There must be a better way. This elitism is sickening.” I turn to my father. “What about all the people deemed unworthy? If RigMire is really about saving lives, then why isn’t this opportunity offered to them? Surely the hard drives have more than enough room.”
My father pours himself another drink. “The truth of the matter is that not everyone should be saved. We can only invest in our future. Small manageable numbers who contribute or a mass of people who will do nothing but increase numbers. There is no shame in weeding out the worthless.”
I pause. “And what if someone doesn’t agree to the terms? You just vaporize them anyway?”
Ms. Cato collects herself. “An error which won’t happen again, I assure you. We’ve already got a third of our tech resources devoted to figuring out what went wrong.”
This is a lot to take in, and something tells me I don’t have time to fully adjust. Despite all this information, nothing has changed in regards to my current status as a digital refugee.
I take a deep breath. “Where does this leave us, then?”
My father and Ms. Cato exchange looks before she speaks. “That is a very good question.” She stands and types something into the keyboard in front of her.
I pause. “So if this disaster happens, how would we rebuild? Can we interact with the survivors? There must be something. You wouldn’t have used that language if we were destined to live in this fantasy space alone.”
Ms. Cato pauses briefly, looking at my father.
He smiles. “Perhaps we’ve found our solution...”
In that moment it feels as if everything begins to slow right down until my father stops mid-drink and Ms. Cato stops typing mid-stroke. I step forward, but neither one of them moves.
“A solution? What kind of solution?” I ask, but neither one of them reacts.
“Are you Piper?” A teenage girl appears behind me; unlike everyone else I’ve come across so far her hue is split. Both her arms are ghost white while the rest of her emits a crimson that matches my own.
I nod. “Yeah. Who are you?”
She offers her hand. “My name is Sasha. Robbie sent me to come find you.”
Then an overwhelming flash of light fills the room and I feel a familiar unpleasant sensation—burning. It feels like I’m losing my body all over again.
12
THE PLACE CALLED HOME
SOMETIMES I THINK LIGHT IS SCARIER THAN DARKNESS. Seeing everything can be harder to take in than a panorama of nothing. When my eyes finally adjust to whatever that flash was, I find myself standing in a familiar white-walled room, but something is different. This isn’t the same one as before. I feel calmer—the faint smell of lavender fills the air.
“Sasha, you did it!” Robbie’s voice echoes. “If I had arms, I’d hug you.”
“I think I’m good, but thanks.” The voice comes from behind me.
I turn around and see the girl from before staring off at something I clearly can’t see. “Hello?”
She turns her attention to me. “Sorry about that. Are you hurt? I mean, do you feel strange at all?”
I take a deep breath. “I’m fine, I guess.”
She walks up to me. “Seriously, though, any discomfort? I need to know right now. Code is finicky.”
She looks young, but there is a sternness to her expression. She’s seen some things. People with eyes like hers have often told me interesting stories when I was tending bar. Not many of them ended well for everyone.
“No.” I pause. “I think I’m just... trying to get my bearings is all.”
She nods. “Understandable. I’m going to activate the binary sensors now.”
“Binary sensors?” The white walls instantly dissipate, revealing a familiar kitchen. Sasha still stands across from me. She has no hue. I look down at myself and see cyan. “Am I back home?”
She sighs and points at a small cube on the ground. “Kind of. Your code is currently being stored in this.”
The screen above the island turns on. “Piper.”
I smile. “Robbie.”
Just then my image flickers. I feel the surge shoot up through the cube. Sasha turns to a small computer on the table behind her. “Well, that’s not good.” She then turns back to me. “Your program guide in RigMire needs to be opened. Its encryption is messing with the code on this end—”
White light flashes again.
“I think it would be best to talk with Clarence. He still has a remote connection with his lab in the Ukraine.” Elizabeth Cato continues typing in the air is if nothing happened. I’m back in the room with my father.
Neither Ms. Cato nor my father say anything as I reach into my pocket and pull out the rook I’ve had since coming to RigMire. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with it. It looks and feels like a wooden chess piece.
“The Ukraine is out of our jurisdiction. Friend or not, they have no incentive to do anything at all.” My father sighs.
Ms. Cato continues typing in the air. “Ah, there it is, the infamous pessimism of Doctor Sloan. If you have a better idea, I’m open to hearing it.”
I trace a finger around every ridge of the rook, but nothing happens. Wait, what’s this? The seams don’t line up. Within seconds I’m twisting the top of the chess piece with as much force as I would a jar of pickles. I hear an audible snap.
Almost instantly the scene is frozen again and I feel a hand on my shoulder jerking me backwards.
“There you are.” Sasha leans against the island.
I’m back in the house.
Robbie’s voice echoes. “Piper, you opened the program guide?”
I can’t stop looking at my hands. I’m a projection. This is starting to feel weird. “I mean, maybe. I think I broke it.”
Sasha nods. “Whatever you did released the encryption. I’m not complaining about the method.”
Something is different. The kitchen isn’t like it was a few minutes ago—an empty plate sits on the table and Sasha is wearing gloves now.
I take a mo
ment to study my surroundings further. “When did you...” I’m not sure how to ask the question. “I mean...” It’s not just the gloves; she changed her clothes as well.
The screen on the refrigerator lights up. “We should explain the time differential.”
Sasha removes her gloves, rolls up her left sleeve, and touches the cube. I feel the familiar jolt as white light fills the room.
We’re in another space now. Sasha stands across from me, her aura has returned to crimson, but her arms are still ghost white. There are some really faint markings just below her elbow. I imagine there are probably similar ones on her right arm as well. Robbie appears next to me, and before I know it, he’s pulled me into a tight hug. He squeezes and I feel just the tiniest bit claustrophobic.
“Robbie.” I barely have enough breath in me to say his name.
He loosens his grip and takes a cautious step backwards. “My apologies, Piper.”
I smile. “It’s alright.”
Sasha claps her hands and three chairs appear in front of us. “This place is called is a remote server. There are thousands and thousands of them across the planet. About half of them are abandoned, though.”
I take a seat. “How do I keep jumping?”
Robbie looks at Sasha. “It’s remarkable, isn’t it?”
She smiles. “That’s my doing. My mom was a bit of a gearhead. I’m not nearly as good as she was, but I have the equipment to manipulate and access code faster than any computer.”
I nod. “So you’re superhuman, then?”
She looks away.
Robbie chuckles. “Exactly what I said.”
The three of us sit in silence for what feels like a solid minute. Inside, I feel that I’m getting close to a panic attack. Is this my life now? Hopping digital spaces, forced to observe the world from a cube? I need to get my mind on something else. A quick distraction, maybe.
“So, how did you two meet?” I roll my eyes the moment those words come out of my mouth. I sound like a third wheel during a date.
Robbie pauses. “A lot has happened. We should start at the beginning. You disappeared on January twenty-ninth.”
Clockwork Villains Page 5