The Thieves of Nottica

by Ash Gray

“The Hand is after everyone!” Morganith shouted, and the captain dropped his hands and simply stood defeated. “Every minute, every second of every day!” Morganith went on bitterly. “What the hell happened to you, Kito? You didn’t used to run scared from one fucking Crow! The Kito I knew woulda blown that whole port apart and took up into the sky, no fear, no regrets! What happened to givin’ the finger to the Hand, huh?”

  The captain swallowed hard. “Times have changed, Morganith,” he said softly, unhappily, and offered Morganith his mechanical hand. “You have no idea how ruthless the Hand has become --”

  “As if they weren’t ruthless before,” interrupted Hari derisively. “You mean ruthless to your people.” On her shoulder, Rivet clicked with righteous indignation.

  The captain looked at Hari and Morganith with his mournful black eyes. “Their wrath has extended to humans now. They don’t just take names, they execute.”

  “And yet here you stand,” said Hari, “alive.”

  Kito swallowed hard. “Barely. I was caught, and they t-tortured me for information, drugged me for months – I can not let that happen again.”

  Morganith’s mouth twisted in a derisive smile. “Oh, I see. You realized your human ass was in real danger, and suddenly, it wasn’t so fun playin’ rebel-pirate anymore.” She aggressively ripped her sleeve back to reveal her own mechanical arm, which – unlike Kito’s – was old, rusty, and worn from time. “You see this? I didn’t get it because I was caught playin’ out my human savior fantasies. I got it from thousands of years of pollution due to a human invasion that has ground my people into dust. And unlike you, I don’t get to just run away when it gets tough.” She glared at Kito for a beat, who stood in quiet shame before her. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said, pushing roughly past him, “. . . I stepped in gum.”

  When Hari came to check on Rigg, she stood in the doorway with her arms folded and complained about Kito. Rigg and Lisa both listened without comment, and as Hari was talking, Rivet scuttled down her coat and across the bed to Rigg. The tiny robot clicked sadly and rubbed its metal side against Rigg’s skirt, lamenting her injury. Rigg smiled and stroked its smooth, gleaming middle.

  “. . . and I spent all these years,” Hari was saying, “thinkin’ Kito was the one human who understood why we needed ta challenge the Hand. Turns out he’s afraid just like everyone else.”

  “He had ‘is arm cut off, Hari!” Rigg burst, suddenly exasperated by all the anger and arguing. “He’s not like us. He didn’t spend his entire life facin’ these dangers.” She shook her head. “He never knew real fear before now.”

  “And now he knows,” Hari said solemnly. “Now he knows what it’s like to be a demon.”

  Rigg sighed. “Yeah. Now he knows. So can’t you and Mor lay off ‘im?”

  “I know you don’t like watchin’ us fight,” Hari said apologetically, “but we can’t just wave aside everything that’s happened and go back to the way things were. I know you want that, Rigg, but it’s not that simple.”

  “I’m pissed at ‘im, too,” Rigg insisted, “but I think he’s been punished enough.”

  Hari’s brows creased slightly in an incredulous frown. “Punished? Our very justified anger over his attempt to abandon us at the pier isn’t punishment.” Hari started to go, and Rivet sprang into her pocket with a click. “I’ll be down at the bar if you two need me. You should come when you’re feelin’ up to it, Rigg. Dinemi still serves good drinks. Might help with the pain.”

  “Alright,” Rigg said, knowing she already had a flask in her coat. “We should reach Ironmire in three hours,” Hari said. “Try to get some rest . . .” She glanced at Lisa. “And say your goodbyes. Kito has promised you a place on his ship, Lisa. Said you could stay with him while we were seein’ the gov’nor.”

  “Thank you, Harilotecca,” Lisa said warmly. “I mean it. For everything.”

  Hari’s eyes passed over Lisa’s hand, which was clutched fast in Rigg’s. She hesitated and smiled. “Notta problem, Lisa,” she said and turned for the door. “I’ll see you downstairs, Riggy.”

  Rigg watched as Hari left the cabin, quietly closing the door behind her. “I’m gonna get an earful from her later, I just know it,” she said wearily when Hari had gone. When Lisa didn’t answer, she looked over to find the automaton staring at her injury with large, miserable eyes. Rigg’s leg was stretched out on the bed, and her skirt had been pushed back to expose the wound, which was now bound with bloody bandages. It hadn’t hurt back when she was first shot – in fact, it had been completely numb – but now it was really starting to hurt. She took out her flask and took a long swig, watching Lisa from the corner of her eye. Lisa bit her lip and wrung her fingers, looking as if she might burst into tears.

  “Lisa,” Rigg said, pausing with the flask. She laughed. “It’s alright.”

  Lisa shook her head. “No, it isn’t! You were s-shot because of me! Because I was with you! I p-put you in danger.”

  “No,” said Rigg firmly and looked Lisa hard in the eye. “I was shot because the Hand is a danger to everyone and everything.” Her eyes softened and she touched Lisa’s cheek. “Understand?”

  Lisa hesitated and nodded wretchedly against Rigg’s caressing hand, but she sniffled with tears and stared to cry anyway. Sitting up against her pillows, Rigg pulled Lisa into her arms, and Lisa burrowed her hair under Rigg’s chin. Rigg listened sadly to her sniffling, letting the hot oil stain her chest guard.

  “Hey,” Rigg said soothingly after a while, “you don’t stop cryin’, you’ll run outta oil. And then I’ll havta carry you around like an ironing board.”

  Lisa laughed through her tears. “I’m s-sorry,” she sniffled. “It’s just . . . I thought you were going to die.”

  “But I didn’t die.”

  “But you could have.” Lisa curled her fingers in Rigg’s shirt, as if for fear she’d slip away. “Before I met you, I lived everyday in hopelessness. I thought I would always be his slave, his . . .” she sneered, “. . . plaything. Then I saw you that day in your kitchen . . .” she laughed softly and her lips curled into a small smile, “and I realized I could be more. I could be so much more because you saw me as more. When you looked at me, you didn’t just see a robot or a slave. You saw me. You made me feel like . . . You made me feel.”

  Rigg smiled, smoothing down Lisa’s hair with an affectionate hand. “I no idea.”

  “What would I do if you d-died?” Lisa wondered, staring with large eyes into space. Her cheek smashed against Rigg’s arm as she snuggled closer and whispered, “Where would I go? What would I have to live for? You’re the only thing I ever wanted.”

  Rigg smiled sadly. “You’ll want other things.”

  Lisa looked Rigg in the eye and slowly smiled. “No. I won’t.”

  They smiled at each other for a beat, then Lisa rested her head on Rigg’s chest guard, and Rigg slipped her arms tight around her, resting her cheek against Lisa’s soft, synthetic hair.

  “I’ll try not to die,” Rigg said into Lisa’s hair. She shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll succeed. I’ve made it this far.”

  Lisa frowned. “It isn’t funny, Rigg. Where would I go if you died? Before the last few days, I’d never been out of the castle. And . . .” She pulled back, staring in horror at Rigg. “Even if you did live and somehow, I could protect you, I’d still outlive you. I would just go on and on --”

  “Lisa,” Rigg said soothingly. Her heart was breaking to see Lisa’s lip trembling, to see her so beside herself. She touched Lisa’s face. “We’ve got each other right now. Whatever happens, that’s what matters.” Rigg shook her head. “I won’t live my life in fear of tomorrow.”

  Lisa looked at Rigg warmly. “I wish I could be brave like you.”

  Rigg laughed dully. “Me? Brave?”

  Lisa frowned, as if Rigg should have known better. She touched the twisted burns on Rigg’s cheek and whispered fondly, “You’re the bravest person I know.”

  Seeing t
he naked sincerity in Lisa’s eyes, Rigg smiled.

  Lisa leaned down close and kissed Rigg on the mouth, and as their lips touched, her slender hand slowly pushed Rigg’s skirt up her brown thigh.

  ***

  Rigg awoke an hour later, lying naked with Lisa, content and refreshed, the pain in her leg still dully pulsing. She was on her back, and Lisa was snuggled warm against her, her soft synthetic hair brushing Rigg’s chin. Rigg stroked Lisa’s hair, listening to the whirling compass that was her heart. The compass arrow was spinning wildly: Lisa was happy.

  “I like listening to your heartbeat,” whispered Lisa, who had her ear against Rigg’s chest.

  “I like listening to yours,” Rigg said contently.

  Lisa smiled, but her smile slowly faded. “Rigg . . .” she whispered and hesitated.

  “What is it, Lise?”

  “I want you to do something for me,” Lisa said.

  Rigg’s hand stopped stroking. “I’m listening.”

  “Evrard has owned me for many years now,” Lisa said, swallowing hard. “He isn’t going to simply let me walk away --”

  “Lisa,” began Rigg soothingly, “you’ll be safe here with Kito --”

  “No, I won’t. Listen to me!”

  Rigg fell silent, and it suddenly occurred to her that Lisa had begun using contractions. Her once melodic monotone was now a riot of emotion. When she was upset, pain screamed from her voice.

  “I want you to open me up,” Lisa said, “and remove my databanks --”

  “Lisa!”

  “-- and keep them safe,” Lisa insisted. “I also want you to take my heart --”

  Rigg sat up, and Lisa did as well, clutching the sheets to her naked breasts. Lisa stared at Rigg, completely serious. Rigg looked at her in amazement.

  “Do you have any idea,” Rigg said after a pause, “what you’re askin’ me to do? You’re askin’ me to dismantle you!”

  “Yes,” said Lisa quietly. “I am.”

  “No. I won’t do this.” Rigg shook her head and moved to get up, but Lisa caught her arm. Her golden eyes were pleading. “Please, Rigg,” she whispered, her voice small and shaking. “It’s the only way to protect me from h-him.”

  “I can protect you without tearin’ you apart!”

  A black oil tear gathered in Lisa’s left eye. “No, Rigg,” she said gently. “You c-can’t.”

  It was difficult to hear the crack in Lisa’s voice, and Rigg dropped her eyes. “Alright,” she said wearily, “tell me what to do.”

  Lisa hugged the sheet to her chest and turned her back to Rigg, bowing her head. “Open me up,” she whispered. “Open the small compartment just behind my ear, then open my back panel. Take my databanks and my compass. Once you have taken both . . . I will shut down. Don’t worry about my body. Just . . . leave it here in the bed. But keep the rest some place safe. Some place Evrard won’t look. And . . .” Rigg’s heart sank when Lisa removed the key from around her neck and dropped it carefully on the pillow. “Keep that safe for me,” she whispered with a trembling smile. “Until we see each other again.”

  Rigg took a shuddering breath and blinked down the sudden rise of tears. “Alright,” she said, hating how hoarse with fear she sounded. She rolled up her sleeves and her right hand morphed into a screwdriver. Tears filled her eyes as she set to work unscrewing, the screwdriver whirling and whizzing, until both the compartment in Lisa’s back and the compartment behind Lisa’s ear were open. Lisa took shuddering breaths throughout the process, her eyes closed, her brows frowning, her lips parted, as if being opened were the sweetest pleasure, and Rigg smiled to herself, thinking that it wasn’t too unlike gently spreading Lisa’s thighs: both acts revealed the most tender and intimate parts of her.

  Inside her chest, Lisa’s compass was whirling faster and faster, while in the compartment under her ear, several long and narrow data files were plugged one after another, in a neat row. Those files contained Lisa’s memories, her feelings, her thoughts . . . her brain. Rigg knew the second she unplugged the data files, Lisa would shutdown. Her fingers closed on the first data file, and they were shaking so badly, she didn’t think she could pull it. She closed her eyes and bowed her head.

  “Go ahead, my brave Rigg.” Lisa laughed softly, nervously. “Rip it off like a band-aid!” She frowned. “I w-want you to know . . .” She swallowed and licked her lips. “I never felt so alive until I met you.” Rigg saw her cheek bulge in a smile.

  Tears flowed from Rigg’s eyes. She took a breath and unplugged Lisa.

  Chapter 11

  In-Betweenses

  Standing over the bed in their cabin, Rigg stood with her hands in her pockets, looking down at Lisa’s still body. She thought Lisa looked as serene as if she were floating in the pool of their sheets. Her eyes were closed, her hands were resting one over the other on her belly, and her black hair was a dark wreath around her heart-shaped face, thick as wool and curly, like thousands of little springs.

  “I’ll put you back together, Lise,” Rigg whispered. “I promise.”

  After staring at Lisa another beat, Rigg turned away. Heart heavy, she quietly closed the cabin door behind her and limped up the corridor, intent on getting a drink in Dinemi’s bar.

  Kito’s airship, Tin Pin, was a refurbished luxury liner comprised of a two-level gondola hanging from a balloon that was shaped like a bullet. The balloon had been patched over time and again and was rigged with mismatched sails and propellers, ropes and dangling yellow lanterns, while the ship’s looming prow was carved in the shape of a sun rising above wooden frothing waves. In its youth, the ship was marked Aurora and had been stolen by Kito when he was very young.

  Kito had grown up in the land of Torin, a country east of Nottica, where the Regime’s influence was particularly harsh. In fact, it was so incredibly severe, it was known as the end of hope, a place where demons were kept in concentration camps until they proved they could fall in line, enduring their oppression in silence. Rebellious demons from countries all over Nimestil were shipped to Torin to be rehabilitated – those demons who proved too valuable to murder, anyway. Had Morganith ever been captured by the Hand, she would have been shipped off “to the Torins,” as it was said, for after years of loyal service to the Hand, she had proven herself too valuable an asset to waste. Humans were just frugal enough that they never wasted anything, even demon lives. If demons were killed, it was with the strict purpose of striking terror into the hearts of other demons.

  Rigg was surprised Kito hadn’t been shipped to Torin when he was captured by the Hand, as the concentration camps in Torin weren’t strictly for demons alone. Naturally, there were still more demons imprisoned than humans. It was often said that for every human in existence, there were ten demons in prison, locked away for having had the audacity to commit crimes that would allow them to survive an oppressive system. And yet, many more demons hadn’t committed any trespass beyond speaking out against the Regime, and their punishment was a preemptive response to future rebellion.

  How Kito had grown up in the midst of concentration camps in a place known as the end of all hope was beyond Rigg, but he grew up comfortably, with every opportunity in the world at his disposal. He had come from a very rich family in Torin and had begun traveling on a whim, wanting to see the world. It was during his travels that he met and fell in love with Dinemi, a demon, and it was then that he decided to rebel and fight the Regime. He took control of the luxury liner that had carried him to Nottica, commandeering it as his own and using it to smuggle goods back and forth across the Sevrile Sea. Before long, he became infamous for bringing items to demons and impoverished humans that had been expressly forbidden by the Hand. Because of Kito, demon children tasted chocolate for the first time. Because of Kito, demons shed their designated work clothes and wore nice things in the privacy of their own homes. Because of Kito, demons could carry concealed weapons to defend themselves against the Hand, against humans, against the world. And because of Kito, the Hand p
ressed down harder. When before cameras had been on the streets alone, they now appeared in the very homes of the impoverished, in their bathrooms, in their bedrooms, in their alleyways, and even in the sewers. But Kito was not to be discouraged. When he couldn’t bring illegal items directly to the people, he brought the people to the items. Such transactions often required a trusted intermediary, and that was how Kito and Arda came into business.

  Rigg made her way to the second floor, passing the open doors of various cabins, inside which crewmembers sat on hammocks, smoking, reading papers, and listening to their small gramophones whine out slow, jazzy tunes. The crew of the Tin Pin had always been relatively small given the fact that not many people were brave enough to openly rebel against the Hand. Secrecy was also the key to survival, so the fewer people on the ship, the better. Rigg recognized many faces, but didn’t recognize just as many others. It seemed Kito had been busy recruiting, which was strange, as hiring new recruits always meant the risk of giving a spy access to the ship.

  Rigg paused when she heard an unhappy mutter and backtracked, following the sound to a door she had passed. The door was slightly ajar, and Rigg pushed it open to reveal a dark pantry, crowded with barrels, boxes, and shelves of canned food. A single oil lantern stood on a stack of packing crates, and sitting on a barrel beside it, drinking from a wicker-wrapped demijohn, was Kito.

  The captain jerked his head for Rigg to enter. “Hey, kid,” he said, as Rigg limped into the pantry, letting the door gently swing shut behind her.

  Rigg thought Kito looked as badly as she felt. He was sitting hunched over, and with the spyglass pushed back onto his forehead, she could see the worry lines around his dark eyes. He looked almost on the verge of tears. Though Morganith and Kito had argued often over the years, Rigg knew that deep down, they loved each other and their friendship was as solid as their arguments were volatile. Morganith yelling at Kito – no matter that she had often done so as regular as flushing -- had likely hurt him deeply.

  Rigg couldn’t pretend she wasn’t just as bitter against Kito. While she hadn’t known Kito nearly as long as the others, she’d been a Keymaster for ten years and had known him for those ten years. He’d become something of a big brother, protective and affectionate. When he broke contact after Arda’s death, she told herself he was mourning, that he hadn’t abandoned them. She wasn’t certain she still believed her own lies.