Tin

by Padraig Kenny

  Reeves cleared his throat and stood to attention, holding his notebook out as he read from it.

  ‘Mr Gregory Absalom, by the powers vested in me by His Majesty’s government, I now sentence you for the crime of operating without an engineering license, and also for the particularly heinous crime of conferring sentience upon a mechanical unit which conformed to the accepted dimensions of an adult human being. I hereby compel you to hand over and/or dispose of all your assets within thirty days from this date or face the full rigours of the law. You are also banned from the construction of any mechanical device for the rest of your life. Failure to comply with this order will see you consigned to one of his Majesty’s prisons for a period of not less than fifteen years. You will consent and comply with this order immediately.’

  Reeves nodded at his companion, who stepped forward and nailed a sheet of paper on to the door of Absalom’s shed. Satisfied with this, Reeves put his notebook into an inside pocket of his coat and nodded in Christopher’s direction.

  ‘Mr Dunlop, take him.’

  For a moment, Jack refused to believe what he was hearing.

  Dunlop took Christopher under each armpit and started to drag him towards the van.

  ‘NO!’ Jack screamed.

  Gripper leant forward and let out a great bellow of rage.

  Jack started to run towards Christopher. He was dimly aware that he had sent Round Rob spinning to the ground, but he didn’t care. He had to get to Christopher. He had to stop them.

  Dunlop spotted Jack rushing towards him. He unceremoniously pushed Christopher to the ground and started to reach inside his mac. Jack collided with him and the man pushed him back. Jack almost lost his footing, but he regained his balance and charged forward again.

  Dunlop took a long metal rod from the holster on his right hip. There was a click, a sudden FZZZCRAK sound, a blinding blue shock of light, and Jack felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest. He went flying backwards and hit the ground, skidding to a halt at Estelle’s feet.

  He tried to scream but he couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come. Estelle’s face loomed above him, and Manda threw herself at him and started shrieking, ‘Jack! Jack! You killed Jack!’

  Jack started convulsing, his limbs and head spasming wildly. He was vaguely aware of Gripper’s screams of pain and rage, another SHRAKK sound and the fizzing of blue lightning and sparks.

  He managed to raise his head far enough to see Dunlop forcing Gripper backwards with the rod. There was another sudden FRZZAK and Gripper bellowed and flapped at the air with his claws. He had no choice but to retreat. The man casually re-holstered his stick and picked Christopher off the ground.

  Jack watched as Christopher was dragged across the yard towards the back of the van. His friend’s eyes looked hollow and lost until he blinked, and it was as if a switch had suddenly been flicked. He started screaming. He tried to break free of Dunlop’s grip, but the man was too strong. Christopher was kicking and screaming, trying to gain purchase with his heels and failing.

  And in the midst of it all stood Reeves, quiet and still, his eyes dark and soulless.

  There was one last scream from Christopher and then the doors of the van slammed shut on him.

  Jack lay on the ground, his fingers spasming in and out like crab’s pincers. Estelle held his head. She was crying. He couldn’t see Absalom. It was just as well. He hated him now, and once again his head juddered forward as he tried to speak. Round Rob was tottering towards them. The two agents were opening the doors of their van.

  Reeves looked at them all one last time, then climbed into the passenger seat.

  The van drove out of the junkyard and its lights quickly faded into the distance.

  The only sound in the yard now was of sobbing.

  The next morning, Jack was tightening a nut on his left hip with a spanner when Rob and Manda entered the workshop. Gripper was standing watching him. Rob immediately realized what he was doing.

  ‘Why are you putting on a new pair of legs?’

  Jack didn’t hear him at first. He was too busy struggling with the nut. Gripper said something, and Jack looked up at Rob with an uncharacteristically angry frown.

  ‘What?’ he said.

  ‘Why are you putting on new legs?’ asked an unfazed Rob.

  ‘No reason,’ said Jack. ‘It’s just that the other ones . . .’

  Rob and Manda both nodded.

  ‘It was because of the stick from last night with the lecktristy in it, wasn’t it?’ said Manda.

  Jack said nothing, but Rob could see his chin trembling.

  ‘Estelle said the lecktristy makes things not work properly, and that your legs—’

  Jack flung the spanner on the ground and roared: ‘It wasn’t because of that, Manda! It wasn’t that at all!’

  Manda lowered her head and clutched her teddy bear to her chest. Nobody said anything for a moment, until Gripper made a gentle scraping sound with his jaws. Rob looked at him and then at Jack.

  ‘Is that true?’ Rob asked.

  Jack just clenched his jaw and bent down to pick up the spanner.

  ‘It was lecktristy,’ whispered an awestruck Manda.

  Jack turned the spanner over and over in his hands without looking up.

  ‘What was Mr Absalom screaming about when he knocked over everything in his office? Refried repulsion?’ Manda whispered to Rob.

  Absalom had spent the night hiding in his shed. Then, just after dawn, they’d heard an awful commotion inside. Rob and Manda had heard him roaring and throwing things about. This went on for half an hour. After that there had been silence.

  ‘Manda . . .’ said Jack, sighing with frustration.

  Manda looked at him. ‘Are you going to shout at me again?’

  Jack looked guiltily at her. ‘No, Manda, I’m not. I shouldn’t have shouted at you in the first place. Sorry.’

  ‘‘Pology accepted,’ said Manda.

  Jack’s eyes were dark and pained-looking, but he still managed a weak smile.

  Rob looked at Jack’s legs. Without even thinking about it, he held his right eyebrow in place with his index finger as he raised it.

  ‘Are those your fancy legs? Are you going to a party?’ he said.

  Jack shook his head ruefully. ‘No, I’m not going to a party, Rob.’

  ‘Where are you going, then? You look like you’re going somewhere.’

  Gripper stood up. He bellowed something and beat his chest three times with his right fist. CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!

  ‘Really? Really really?’ said Rob, spinning between Gripper and Jack so hard that he almost hit the floor.

  Despite his earlier irritation, Jack managed to give a sly grin. Gripper bellowed again, even louder this time, and he beat his chest harder with his fist.

  ‘Yippee!’ yelled Manda.

  Rob stared dazedly up at the roof, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. He grinned at Jack. ‘So what do we do? How do we . . . ?’

  ‘We talk to him first,’ said Jack.

  ‘You listen here, Jack my lad, this . . . you’re not going anywhere . . . I’ll be damned if, if, if . . .’

  Absalom had been pacing in front of them in the yard, but now he stopped and squinted suspiciously at Jack.

  ‘Those aren’t your legs,’ he said.

  ‘They’re his fancy going-away legs, Mr Absalom,’ chirped Rob.

  Absalom paced up and down even faster now, wringing his hands as he ranted.

  ‘Well now, this is a fine how-do-you-do and no mistake! This is a proper way to show gratitude, isn’t it? After all I’ve done for you. Well now, you’ll be sorry,’ he roared, pointing his finger at them. ‘No one is to leave this yard. Absolutely no one. My word is final on this matter!’

  Absalom straightened up, snapped his collar up around his neck, and gave them all a contemptuous sneer before turning on his heel and heading towards the shed. The shout that followed after him rang out across the yard:

  ‘G
regory!’

  All eyes went to Jack. Absalom froze. There was a stillness in the air, and slowly the engineer turned, a look of disbelief on his face as Jack spoke in a steady, even voice.

  ‘We’re going, Mr Absalom. We’re going to find Christopher and you can’t stop us.’

  Absalom tried to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. His breath frosted in the air and his shoulders went in and out like the wings of a bird.

  Jack nodded at the others. ‘It’s time to go.’

  Jack turned towards the truck and the others started to follow. He was surprised by the silence, and it was only when he opened the door of the cab that he heard a ‘Wuh . . . wuh . . . wait’ behind him.

  Jack climbed up into the driver’s seat and was about to shut the door when Absalom grabbed the handle and held it open.

  ‘You can’t!’ Absalom shouted. His eyes were wild and desperate.

  ‘Yes, we can,’ said Jack.

  Gripper helped Rob and Manda into the passenger seat, while Absalom gabbled at Jack.

  ‘I won’t allow it!’ he shrieked.

  Jack tried to pull the door closed, but Absalom held fast and was about to force himself into the cab until Gripper intervened by gently placing a giant hand on the engineer’s chest.

  ‘You can’t do this, Jack. You belong to me.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘We belong to no one now, Mr Absalom.’

  Gripper clambered into the back, and there was the familiar sinking sensation as the truck creaked under his weight. Jack concentrated, stretched, and gave a sigh of relief when his new telescopic legs extended far enough to reach the pedals. Manda clapped with delight. Absalom flashed her an anguished look and then looked pleadingly at Jack.

  ‘Jack, please,’ he moaned.

  Jack turned the key in the ignition, and the engine stuttered and rumbled into life.

  ‘Goodbye, Mr Absalom,’ he said.

  As the truck moved off, the engineer made one final scramble to grip the door handle, but only succeeded in tumbling to his knees. He watched helplessly as Jack and the others drove out the gate. Jack looked in the wing mirror and saw his forlorn shape, tiny, lost, and sobbing amid the mounds of junk, and he felt a momentary pang of guilt.

  Jack could feel Rob looking at him as he drove. He turned briefly to see him biting his upper lip, then look away hurriedly when he realized Jack had noticed.

  ‘What is it, Rob?’ asked Jack.

  Rob buried his head in his shoulders, and looked at Jack warily.

  ‘Nothing,’ he mumbled.

  Jack sighed. ‘Come on, Rob. Out with it.’

  Rob seemed to consider things for a moment, then he blurted: ‘Aren’t you scared?’

  Jack smiled. ‘Course I’m scared. It wouldn’t be natural if I wasn’t. If I had a heart it would be hammering right now.’

  ‘But we have to do it anyway,’ said Rob defiantly, looking out through the windscreen at the road ahead. ‘Because he’s our friend.’

  Jack clenched the steering wheel. ‘Exactly.’

  There was a silence for a moment, which was eventually broken by a tiny voice:

  ‘I’m not scared.’

  Jack grinned. ‘Good for you, Manda.’

  Manda gave her best ‘I mean business’ look and scrunched her teddy bear tightly to her chest. Jack chuckled.

  ‘So where do we start?’ asked Rob.

  ‘Adenbury,’ said Jack.

  Rob gave him a confused look. ‘Christopher’s in Adenbury?’

  ‘No, silly, we have to pick someone up first.’

  The three miles to Adenbury seemed to fly by. Jack was being honest; he did feel frightened, but he also felt a strange rush of exhilaration the further they went along the road. He felt in control and in charge, and the small life he’d known in the junkyard was gone. He could feel his life expanding, becoming part of something bigger.

  The village was quiet this morning. The first person they met was a milkman driving his horse and cart over the bridge. The only other person who seemed to be up and about was the local postman, who gawped at them and almost fell off his bike in shock when he saw Jack driving the truck. Jack supposed they weren’t used to mechanicals around here. Cars were probably a rarity here as well. Although he knew for a fact that it wasn’t uncommon for someone like himself to drive around the streets of London.

  They pulled up outside Mrs Barnaby’s guest house. It was a large solid building with a dozen windows. Manda was particularly taken with it.

  ‘Is this where Estelle lives?’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ said Jack.

  ‘It’s like a palace,’ she gasped.

  Jack smiled as he parked the truck just outside the front gate. The road was quiet as they climbed out. Gripper made moves to follow them, but Jack told him to stay in the truck. They walked up a zigzag path of crazy paving made from creamy stone, Manda drinking everything in.

  Jack knocked on the door. It was a deep burgundy, and had obviously been recently painted. Rob nudged him and nodded towards his legs. It was only then that Jack realized he was a foot taller than he should be. He retracted his legs just before the door was opened by a sharp-faced maid. She frowned at them over a pointy beak of a nose.

  ‘What you want?’ she said.

  ‘We’ve come to see Estelle,’ said Jack.

  The woman looked from one to the other, and then to the truck, where Gripper made a moaning sound as he stretched. Her frown deepened.

  ‘Where’s your owner?’ she said.

  Jack opened his mouth to speak, but Rob cut across him.

  ‘We don’t have one any more,’ he said cheerily.

  Both the woman and Jack were about to say something, but Rob was off and running:

  ‘We’ve come for Estelle to see if she can help find our friend, Christopher. We thought he was proper, but he wasn’t, and some men came and took him, and told Mr Absalom that he had to give up his junkyard because he broke the law. That’s Gripper in the truck, he’s very strong. I once saw him lift a tractor. This is Manda, she’s the smallest, and this is Jack – those aren’t his normal legs, they’re just his driving legs. I’m Round Rob, I’m not up to much, or so Mr Absalom used to say, but you can roll me down a hill for sixpence and I won’t complain.’

  Rob stopped just as suddenly as he’d started, and he gave the woman a big open smile. The woman gaped at him. Nobody said anything for a while.

  ‘Is this a palace?’ asked Manda.

  The woman looked at them warily, then she jerked her thumb towards the back of the house.

  ‘Out back,’ she said, and shut the door.

  They all looked at Jack, who gave them a quick nod.

  They walked nervously around the side of the house and into the back yard. There was a long narrow shed filled with straw. A young goat was tethered to a post and a small mechanical boy was piling some vegetables into a cart.

  ‘Where’s Estelle?’ said Rob.

  At that, the boy looked up sharply and pointed towards the shed. They all stepped towards it, and it was Rob who first saw Estelle lying on the straw.

  ‘Estelle!’ he shouted.

  Estelle sat bolt upright, bits of straw stuck to her hair. ‘What? What?’ she said. She blinked when she saw her friends, and did a quick double take. Her face went paler than pale, then just as quickly it flushed to a crimson red. Her face was so red Jack thought her head might pop.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded, trying her best to assert her authority, but failing, because it’s hard to do such a thing when you’re trying to get yourself up into a standing position from a pile of straw.

  She brushed herself down, wrapped her coat around her and cinched the old leather belt she used to keep it closed. Jack caught a glimpse of the moth-eaten jumper she wore, and he noticed there were holes in her (odd) socks.

  ‘Well?’ she demanded. She was trying to sound forceful, but her voice came out as a shrill squeak. Her colour had calmed slightly, but she
was still a very vivid tinge of pink.

  Rob frowned. ‘Why were you sleeping on the straw, Estelle?’

  ‘Is that your bed?’ Manda asked.

  ‘Were you playing a game of hide and seek?’ Rob asked, with a big hopeful grin on his face.

  Jack decided to intervene. Estelle’s face was changing too quickly for his liking, and she looked like she was about to explode.

  ‘We came for you, Estelle. We want you to come with us and help look for Christopher.’

  Estelle gave them all a wary look. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you know stuff, and you’re our friend,’ said Rob.

  Estelle’s shoulders relaxed a little, but she still seemed defensive and wary.

  ‘I can’t just go,’ she said.

  ‘Why not?’ said Rob.

  Estelle looked genuinely flummoxed as she tried to think of an answer. ‘There’s . . . work,’ she finally blurted.

  ‘Is there enough?’ asked Jack. ‘You’re unlicensed, Estelle, and Mr Absalom was your main customer.’

  ‘I do odd jobs around here,’ said Estelle, and as soon as she said it, Jack could see she regretted it. She shifted from one foot to the other and looked like she’d rather be anywhere than here, with everyone’s eyes on her.

  Jack looked at the boy filling the cart. He must have been at least fifty – it was obvious from the way the tarnished, bronzed metal of his body peeked out from torn flaps of skin on his face. He emitted a creaking noise when making even the slightest movement.

  Jack looked back at Estelle; the expression of shame on her face was too much for him to bear. Jack felt sorry for Estelle, and he felt angry for her. It was clear what was going on here. Estelle couldn’t legally look for work as a skin-maker. She was a girl after all, and girls were prohibited from working in any part of the mechanical industry. She was doing odd jobs for Mrs Barnaby to keep a roof over her head; the kind of work that only mechanicals would do. Mrs Barnaby was obviously too mean to buy a new model.

  ‘Come with us,’ he said.

  Estelle looked unsure.

  ‘Please, Estelle,’ said Rob. ‘What if my nose falls off on the way? Who’ll stick it back on?’