The Thieves of Nottica

by Ash Gray

  “Well, aren’t you ah brave little toaster,” Morganith muttered, her dark eyes dancing over Lisa in curiosity and surprise.

  Rigg looked at Lisa anxiously. “What was so terrible about livin’ with the gov’nor,” she asked, “that you went through all that to escape?”

  Lisa’s eyes dropped to her knees, and Rigg noticed for the first time that she had a tiny bolt in each joint: two in each knee and two in each elbow. There were even bolts on her knuckles. She looked small and vulnerable as she whispered, “I have belonged to the governor all my life. His mother purchased me for him when he was an infant, to serve as his nursemaid.”

  “They boughta robot to breastfeed?” snorted Morganith and exhaled a wreath of smoke. “Evrard’s parents weren’t very bright, were they?”

  “Let her tell her story, Morganith,” Rigg scolded, and Morganith shrugged.

  “It is alright, Rigg,” Lisa said. She hugged herself. “It is not a pleasant story anyway.”

  “None of us have pleasant stories, Lisa,” Hari said. “We would understand. It sounds as if you need an ear.”

  “We’re offering an ear?” grumbled Morganith.

  Rigg glared Morganith to silence, and the halfling took another bitter pull on her cigarette, averting her eyes.

  “W-Well . . .” Lisa stared straight ahead. Her eyes went blank and rolled back with a click. They watched as light beamed from her eyes in twin streams that flowed into one white square. Images appeared in front of Lisa, hovering like the stills from a movie projector. They watched as Lisa happily cared for a small infant, who they could only assume was the governor. The infant wore short pants, a coat, and tiny ankle boots. It clapped its pudgy hands, and when Lisa lifted it into the air, it threw out its arms and giggled.

  Lisa’s eyelids clicked open and shut, and another scene played out. The infant had grown into a boy, vicious and cruel, who pulled Lisa’s hair, broke her at will, or called out her factory code to shut her down while she was talking. The stream of images ended with Lisa sitting upright in a chair, her head snapped to the side and oil tears pouring from her eyes as she was repaired by a man in a welding mask. Rigg couldn’t imagine what it was like, having to care for ones own abuser, and she was sad to see oil tears falling from the real Lisa’s eyes as they projected the film.

  Lisa’s eyes clicked again, and a third film began. This one depicted the governor as an adolescent, handsome and just as cruel. Lisa was dusting a bust in the library when he walked up and grabbed her from behind. He spun her around and gave her a backslap that sent her to the floor, then he unbuttoned his pants with a rough jerk. The film abruptly stopped. Lisa’s eyes clicked and rolled forward in her head again, revealing the golden spheres as they leaked tears of oil.

  Hari passed her kerchief to Lisa, and everyone sat in silence for a time, listening to the mournful whistle of the wind. Lisa dabbed her eyes and sniffled quietly.

  “I don’t even like gearheads,” Morganith said after a while, “and I’m disgusted.” She looked at Lisa. “Hey, bucket head, you may not be one of us, but you’re welcome to stay with us. We won’t give you back to Evrard.”

  Hari frowned. “We were never going to.”

  Morganith rolled her eyes. “Come on, Hari! What choice did we have? If we took her with us, the gov’nor would’ve tried claimin’ her back.” She shook her head. “I’ve no intention of letting that happen now.”

  “So am I to be your property then?” Lisa demanded of Morganith.

  Morganith looked at Lisa in surprise. “No. You’re to be our friend . . . Lisa.”

  “Then that means she’s one of us,” Rigg brusquely pointed out.

  Morganith shrugged and took another indifferent pull on her cigarette. “Fair enough.”

  Rigg smiled at Lisa, and her heart fluttered when Lisa shyly smiled back.

  “We know so much about you,” Hari said to Lisa, “seems only fair you should know somethin’ about us. What did Evrard tell you before he sent you to us?”

  “He said you were the ones who stole his lockbox,” Lisa answered, “and he gave your address.”

  Morganith’s lip curled. “That was it?”

  “That was it,” Lisa repeated.

  “Oh, hell no,” said Morganith in disgust and chucked her cigarette stub in the fire. “We are the Keymasters, Lisa. The most notorious thieves in all five fucking realms. That time the president’s mechanical leg was stolen in her sleep? That was us.”

  “The time the tram disappeared from Montcarlin?” added Hari with a grin. “That was us.”

  “The time the art gallery in Coincrest had its grand opening,” added Rigg, sitting up with pride, “and the walls were bare-assed? That was us.”

  Lisa laughed girlishly. “Wow,” she said, looking in awe from face to face. She shook her head. “I mean, I knew you were the Keymasters. I had heard the stories --”

  “But you didn’t think they were true,” finished Morganith for her.

  “Yes,” Lisa admitted sheepishly.

  “Even still,” said Hari, “you don’t know who we are. And the stories you’ve heard about us as people were likely exaggerations.”

  “Remember that story about how I could fly?” said Rigg wistfully. “That one was cool.”

  “But you could fly if you wanted to, Rigg,” Morganith said and waved a dismissive hand. “You’re just scared of heights.”

  Rigg glanced at Lisa, silently wishing Morganith hadn’t blurted that unfortunate fact in front of her. She was glad when Lisa didn’t seem to have a reaction either way.

  Picking up on Rigg’s embarrassment, Hari threw a handful of grass at Morganith that was laughingly batted away.

  “Hey!” Morganith cried, smiling as she shielded herself with both hands. She snatched up a fistful of grass and hurled it back. Hari screamed girlishly and blocked with her arms.

  Rigg smiled at her friends. Since Arda’s death, it had been so long since any of them had played together. The four of them had often felt like siblings, despite the fact that Hari and Arda were the only two actually related.

  “Tell Lisa how you came to join the Keymasters,” Hari said to Morganith, dusting herself off.

  “What? Why?” Morganith demanded irritably.

  “Because she doesn’t know who we are,” Hari said in exasperation. “If she’s gonna stay with us, should we expect her to travel with strangers?”

  “No,” Morganith said stubbornly, frowning as she brushed the grass off her lap. She waved an irritable hand at Hari. “You tell stories. I won’t.” She didn’t look at anyone.

  “Fine,” sighed Hari. She looked at Lisa. “As you may have guessed,” she said, tapping one of her curled horns, “I’m an Alteri demon. My sister and I grew up inna junkyard on the outskirts of Crumpledown – that’s a city over in Fixitt,” she explained, jerking her head in the direction of Realm Fixitt. “Most demons live in places like that, and since there’s nothin’ else to do,” she grinned, “we tinker. I was tinkerin’ since before I could talk. Managed to refurbish an old television once and we had some racist propaganda to look at for a while,” she laughed sadly, “before the Hand found out and came and destroyed it.” She scrunched her wrinkly nose. “They don’t like people makin’ unmonitored televisions, see. You gotta have ah license for that sorta thing. Common folk makin’ automatons of any sort is illegal.”

  “You can make . . .” Lisa touched an uncertain hand to her chest, “. . . people like me?”

  “Hari can make anything,” Rigg said proudly, and Rivet clicked in cheerful testimony on Hari’s shoulder. “If you break while you’re with us, you’re in good hands.”

  Lisa smiled at Rigg. “And if any of you break, I will take care of you,” she said, looking happily from face to face. “I am programmed with medicinal knowledge and am equipped with gauze in my ankle compartments.”

  Morganith snorted. “You ain’t puttin’ your metal mitts on me, darlin’.”

  “You’ll change your tune whe
n you take another bullet in the ass,” Rigg said.

  Lisa slowly smiled and cocked an eyebrow. “Another?”

  “Anyway,” said Hari, glowering at Morganith. “My tinkerin’ drew the attention of the Hand a second time. A Crow came to the junkyard with a warnin’ that I should stop all buildin’. My father begged me to stop, but I didn’t listen to ‘im. I was angry. I hated the Hand for makin’ us live in squalor in the first place. I knew when I was eighteen, I’d be sent to the boilers under the city, to slave there for the rest of my natural life.” She shook her head darkly. “I was lucky, though. In some cities, they send demons as early as five years. ‘Start ‘em early,’ they say.” She glowered. “I kept makin’ things almost outta pure spite, to let the Hand and their crony Crows know I wasn’t afraid of them. When I didn’t stop . . .” her lip trembled, “. . . more Crows came with guns and ropes. They took every adult male Alteri, lined them up . . . and shot them. My father included.”

  Lisa stared at Hari with large, sad eyes, her entire body still, her cheeks glistening with oil tears.

  Rivet clicked sadly and nuzzled its warm metal side against Hari’s neck.

  “They didn’t even let us bury the bodies,” Hari said in disgust, her eyes fixed on the fire. “They strung ‘em to the back ova truck and dragged ‘em all the way to Crumpledown, where they put the bodies on display. It was meant to warn other demons of what happens when they don’t obey the Hand.” Hari fell silent, and Rigg could see her chin shivering, as if she was holding back tears. She never cried in front of anyone. Even when Pirayo’s men attacked her, she screamed, but she never cried. Rigg wished she could tell Hari that was it okay to cry.

  “When Da-ta was murdered,” Hari said (and Rigg knew that “Da-ta” meant “Father”), “Arda and I left the junkyard. No one there blamed us for what happened, so that wasn’t the reason. We all knew it was the fault of the humans and their Hand. Arda and I realized we wanted to live life free of the Hand’s tyranny. We wanted more than to toil in the boilers under the city. We left the junkyard and never looked back. A few others came with us, and we formed the first Keymasters.” Hari smiled, remembering. “There was Squilly, who could pick any lock. And Nel, who always seemed to have an impossible number of pockets. Marty, she could climb anything and hack any camera, which helped us get past top security in those early days.”

  “You never told us about them,” said Rigg with interest. “What happened to ‘em?”

  “Yeah,” agreed Morganith, who was listening intently. “I only knew Marty,” she added, glancing at Rigg and Lisa. “She retired when she got married. Wanted ta settle down . . .” Morganith shook her head in bafflement. “I still can’t believe she left us to go work in the boilers and lay eggs.”

  “Eggs?” Lisa repeated in blank confusion.

  “Alteri demons lay eggs,” Morganith calmly explained.

  Rigg glanced at the round belly hidden behind Hari’s overalls. Even after six months, Hari was likely carrying an egg the size of an orange, thus the relatively small swell of her belly.

  “Squilly died onna job,” Hari said somberly. “Picked ah lock that gave ‘im ah bolt. He was always kinda sick and frail. His heart couldn’t take it.”

  “And Nel?” Rigg prompted.

  Hari smiled sadly. “Nel and I . . . were lovers.”

  “And she left you,” Morganith said and nodded. “We got it, Hari. You don’t havta go into it.”

  Lisa’s large, innocent eyes blinked. “But why did she leave you?” she asked Hari baldly.

  Morganith sighed. “Damn bucket heads have no restraint – if Hari wanted to tell that, she would’ve.”

  Lisa dropped her eyes apologetically. “I am sorry.”

  “No, it’s alright, Lisa,” said Hari gently. She gave Morganith a scolding look. “Nel left me because she wanted a sexual relationship,” Hari explained. “I didn’t want that.”

  “What did you want?” Lisa asked with large eyes.

  Rigg looked at Lisa and wondered how much she understood about sex. Being tortured by the governor wouldn’t have given her any real understanding. It suddenly occurred to Rigg that Lisa probably didn’t even understand love.

  “I just wanted affection,” Hari said with a shrug. “Love, romance. Nel wanted love and she wanted sex as well, and there’s nothin’ wrong with that. We were just two people who wanted different things, which never would have made us happy . . . so she left. It cost more to get divorced than it does to get married, so technically . . . we’re still married.” Hari played absently with her wristwatch and her lips curled in a smile. “Nel was ah brilliant mechanist,” she said dreamily. “She could take an old radio and make it bake bread.” She laughed, and so did the others. “Before she left, she gave me Rivet.” She glanced at the small, spidery robot on her shoulder, which clicked and chirruped proudly. “I gave Rivet some mods here and there, but she’s mostly Nel’s brilliance. Said it was her way of helpin’ me . . .” Hari smiled sadly, “. . . even when she wasn’t there.”

  Rivet chirruped sadly and rubbed against Hari’s neck.

  “Where is Nel now?” Lisa asked quietly.

  “I heard she started her own syndicate off in Copperstone,” Hari answered. “Heard they got pretty good, but nothin’ close to the Keymasters.”

  “Yeah, I heard of them,” said Morganith with a smile. “I was even sent out to arrest them once but never caught ‘em. What were they called? The Locksmiths? Somethin’ like that.”

  “Mor was ah bounty hunter,” Rigg told Lisa and grinned. “That was the job the Hand gave her after she got arrested for fightin’ a demon inna bar. She fought down a huge pureblooded Anikye – and this was before she got ‘er mech arm. The Hand figured they’d put her fightin’ skills ta use, use her to bring in some wanted criminals. She even arrested a few Crows that went haywire . . . I mean, they rebelled,” Rigg sheepishly corrected herself.

  Lisa didn’t seem to take offense. She looked at Morganith with large eyes. “You were a bounty hunter?”

  “Best bounty hunter in Realm Windlass,” Morganith said, though she didn’t sound very proud of the fact. She tapped a cigarette out of her case and slipped it behind her ear. “First, I was workin’ in the boiler with all the other halflings and demons,” she said, snapping the cigarette case shut. “Before I got that job, never thought I’d be grateful to the Hand for something. Suddenly, I could afford to feed myself and my family. I was livin’ with my parents at the time,” she explained when she saw Lisa’s surprise. “I wasn’t married or nothin’ like that. They were old and gettin’ along, so I needed the riggits. . . . Well, Mom was old. Demons live a long time. Dad was no where near old.” Morganith leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

  Rigg was relieved to see Morganith was finally at ease in Lisa’s presence. She couldn’t blame Morganith for being on her guard, though. Not only were the Crows automatons, but it was also true that many automatons were used by the Hand to spy on the people, especially on public transportation, where they were permitted to outright murder a person at the drop of a hat if they suspected criminal activity. Lisa belonging to Governor Evrard – one of the key members of the Hand itself – should have had them all a bit more on edge. But Lisa was so innocent and soft, it was hard to view her as a threat. Perhaps that was why she’d been sent in the first place, Rigg realized.

  “What sort of demon is your father?” Lisa asked curiously.

  “Why?” Morganith returned in amusement. “You takin’ notes for the governor?” She looked off. “My father is an Anikye demon and one of the best damn gunsmiths in Windlass.”

  Lisa’s eyes fluttered wide in surprise. Guns were highly illegal in Nottica, and only the Hand and their Crows were allowed to use them. People who dared to tinker anything close to a weapon were publicly executed, and those who were caught selling them under the table had their hands cut off. Demons especially were not allowed to make anything at all, let alone weapons. Rigg couldn’t see how Morga
nith’s father would even have the time to be an illegal gunsmith between working in the boilers from dusk to dawn and raising a daughter.

  “My parents are still over there,” Morganith said. “Every now and then I wire ‘em some riggits. It’s risky, but it’s worth makin’ sure they’ve got full bellies. Mom is still kickin’. Makes me wonder if she isn’t half-demon herself.”

  “How did you become a Keymaster?” Lisa asked.

  Morganith’s lips lifted in a half-smile. “I was put on the hunt for ’em,” she said with a laugh.

  “She nearly caught us too,” added Hari, grinning.

  “Yeah,” said Morganith, “after a while, we called ah stalemate. I didn’t think I’d ever catch ‘em. Then one day, I’m sittin’ in my office, and I look up . . . and they’re standin’ there. Turned themselves in for the bounty.”

  Lisa laughed girlishly. “No!”

  “It’s true,” said Hari. “We pretended to turn ourselves in and we let Morganith take us to the Hand. The second the Crows paid her, we stole the bounty, killed the Crows, and took off. Mor was forced ta run with us, and since the Hand thought she’d been workin’ with us the whole time, she became an accomplice against her will.” Hari laughed. “The Keymasters’ most brilliant job yet.”

  “I could’ve gone my own way,” Morganith insisted, looking a little annoyed by Hari’s boasting, “but I joined up because I realized the Hand was usin’ me like a tool, and what was worse, I was layin’ down lettin’ ‘em. I’d been given a better life, to hunt my own people at the expense of my own people, while they were still forced to slave in the boilers. . . .it was wrong.” Morganith stared thoughtfully into the fire. “Then Arda and I . . . we fell in love, and there was no turnin’ back.” She smiled. “I wanted to have children with her, but I realized . . . what kinda world would I be bringin’ ‘em into? A world where they can’t piss without a camera over their shoulder?”

  Lisa blinked. “Arda was a woman. You could not have had children with her.”

  Morganith hesitated and said irritably, “Anikye demons are intersexual.”