by Scott Wilson
After the Home itself, the stable was the largest building on the property. It was built out of dark oak wood with a pointed roof, and it had a gaping door large enough for the horses to be led in and out. Parked outside were three carts, one for Caden to fill with manure and spread in the fields, and two for the Mothers to bring animals and crops to sell in Salem. The Mothers had promised Caden that if he was still at the Home by age fourteen, then he could ride into town with them. Now that would never happen.
Inside the stable were four stalls; three of them had a horse inside. Two of the horses, pale Mara and black Reabon, were standing with their eyes closed, heads resting over the short compartment doors, trying to sleep. When Caden walked in, the sudden light from his lantern made Mara snort in disapproval.
“Sorry,” Caden whispered. He opened the gate to his own compartment and attached the lantern to a peg on the wall. Then there was a knock. A hoof against wood.
From the stall next door Deber, the third horse, poked her head over the wall. Her long, milky-white face was full of excitement, and her tongue was sticking out to the side. She looked like an overgrown puppy who had been waiting all day for Caden to come back, just like she did every night.
Caden forced a smile. He pet Deber’s warm, velvety nose, and she gave a happy neigh. Unlike Mara and Reabon who had been at the Home since before Caden arrived, Deber had only been there for eight years, ever since Caden started living in and running the stable. As far as Deber was concerned, Caden was her mom, master, and best friend all rolled into one.
“I’m gonna miss you, girl,” Caden said. “Here, I brought something for you.”
He reached into his overalls pocket and pulled out the ear of corn from dinner. He couldn’t eat it. He didn’t have any appetite. When Deber saw it, she whinnied with joy. Caden could hear her hooves dancing in the hay. He held up the corn, husk and all, to Deber’s mouth, and she happily gnawed on it with her massive teeth, enjoying every last kernel.
Caden watched her with a smile, but gradually it faded away. After tomorrow, he was never going to see Deber again. And now, being adopted meant that there was one other person he had no chance of ever meeting either.
With Deber still busy grinding her teeth on the cob, Caden pushed away the bed of hay behind him, exposing the stable’s brick foundation. He stuck his fingers into the cracks around a loose brick toward the bottom, wiggled it back and forth, and pulled it out, revealing a small wooden box hidden inside. Caden set the box in his lap and opened it. Inside were his treasures: a pair of shattered glasses with metal frames he’d found in the fields, and a long black rectangle with colorful buttons all over it. One of them was labeled “mute.” He’d love to use that one on Dom.
But the last treasure in the box was by far the most important. Caden took out the small glossy piece of paper—his most prized possession.
It was a photograph of his dad.
Chapter 3
The Photo
Caden held the photo delicately in his fingers, as if it would disintegrate if he dropped it. The edges had grown yellow and warped from years of humidity, mildew, and finger oil. But Caden didn’t care about the border of the picture, only the person in the center of it.
His dad looked exactly like him, only a few years older. He had the same shaggy blond hair, lanky body, and was even tanned all over, just like Caden. The only difference was his father’s piercing blue eyes, which put Caden’s gray ones to shame. He was wearing a simple white cloth shirt, and behind him was what Caden imagined the heavenly afterlife inside Metl looked like: a mountain of Iltech. It didn’t seem like his dad was using any of it though. The Iltech was piled randomly, as if it were garbage. Caden could even recognize some of it—a computer there, a camera here, a CD there—but there was so much more he had no clue about.
The part that Caden found the strangest was his dad’s expression. He didn’t look happy. If Caden had been around all that Iltech, without any Mothers to hold him back from touching it, he’d be happier than Deber on apple day. But his dad simply looked surprised, eyes wide and brow furrowed, as if he was gazing outside the photograph, confused why Caden was still looking at him after all these years.
When Caden had turned five, Mother Mildred took him aside outdoors, far away from all the other Nobodies. Caden had assumed she was going to lengthen his punishment for touching the spoon. Instead she pulled out the wooden box and photograph from her robes and showed it to him. She told him that when he was dropped off as a baby, this was the only thing that had been left with him. The other Nobodies were usually brought in with nice clothes or money from their old families, which the Mothers held onto for adoption days and emergencies, but all Caden had was this—safely blessed—photograph.
Caden was mesmerized by the photo. Mother Mildred had shown off a camera in religion class a few days prior, so he kind of understood what a “photo” was. But it could’ve been a drawing of his dad made with charcoal and he would’ve loved it just the same.
Mother Mildred had intended only to show Caden the photo for a minute then put it back in the Mothers’ room for safekeeping, but Caden didn’t want to part with it. He held it close, refusing to let it go. Mother Mildred told him he couldn’t keep it; Nobodies weren’t allowed possessions. And even if he tried to hide it, the others would find it and destroy it. The picture may have been safely blessed, but it was still Iltech, and the Nobodies would want it gone.
That was when Caden made a suggestion: what if he slept in the stable? He would be all alone and could hide the photo there so nobody would find it. Mother Mildred laughed at the idea, but Caden was serious. She let him try it, expecting him to give up and come back inside after a night or two. Eight years later Caden was still in the stable.
At first the other children pestered Caden about why he slept outside, and with him never explaining the reason, rumors spread. It was common knowledge that Caden wasn’t a Nobody, so everyone assumed that was it. They didn’t know the truth, that Caden was happy to spend every night in the drafty stable if it meant he could be alone with his dad.
Tonight was the last night. Caden wondered what would happen to his photo after tomorrow. He had to bring it with him. His overalls pockets were deep enough to hide it, and maybe he could find a loose brick somewhere at Mr. Stercus’s house. But if he and Dom had to share a bedroom …
Caden shuddered at the thought. All these years he’d been secretly hoping that his dad would come back for him, that he would take him away to his real family. But now Caden was adopted, forced into a new family, one he could never leave without forfeiting his soul and becoming a criminal. His dad had had thirteen years to show up, but he never did. Now Caden had to admit the truth that he’d been dreading all this time: his dad was either dead, too far away, or just didn’t want anything to do with him.
But Caden knew the last one wasn’t true. His dad had left him one other thing, a short message that showed he did care. Caden flipped the photo over. On the back, written in thick black letters, was a simple but powerful phrase from his father.
“I’ll always love you.”
Suddenly there was a knock. This time it wasn’t hooves.
Caden snapped back to the present. It was probably Dom, coming to get an early start on tomorrow. Caden shoved the photo, glasses, and “mute” button-thing back in the box, but as soon as he turned to put it away, the light from a lantern lit up the stable. Someone walked right in front of his stall.
It was Annika. She was dressed in a nightgown, and her eyes were darting all around. When she saw Caden sitting in the hay, she gave a little jump.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t see you there.”
Caden hoped his face wasn’t giving away that he was desperately trying to hide something. He didn’t know how to act; he’d never had visitors at the stable before. He pushed the box into the hay next to him, hiding the photo out of view.
“It’s fine,” Caden said qu
ickly. Annika shuffled awkwardly.
“I’m sorry for coming out this late. It’s just, I really wanted to say thank you. For earlier today. I wanted to say something at dinner, but it was embarrassing with … with Dom around.”
Caden could sympathize. Whenever he’d been punched, tripped, or tossed into the manure cart by Dom, he’d always just taken it and avoided doing anything that could rile him up again. Caden wanted to commiserate with Annika, but instead his years of being ignored by the Nobodies and talking mostly to animals suddenly showed itself.
“Does Mother Mildred know you’re out here?” he asked, realizing how stupid he sounded only after the words came out. Annika had come to the stable at night to thank him, and all he could talk about was Mother Mildred? He tried to save himself. “I mean, you know. You don’t want to get in trouble or anything.”
“Oh. Yeah. It’s fine,” Annika said, not looking like she minded Caden’s terrible conversation skills. “I asked her if I could come, to make sure you were okay. How are you doing? She said you were fine, but I can’t believe it.”
“Don’t worry. It takes a lot more than that to hurt me,” Caden said, relieved he didn’t sound like an idiot. He pointed to the horses. “I’ve been kicked by these girls more times than I can remember and—”
“What’s that?” Annika asked. She was staring at the haystack. Half of Caden’s photo was sticking out of the wooden box. A jolt of panic ran through Caden. He yanked the photo away and threw his hands behind his back to hide it.
“It’s nothing.”
Annika came closer. “Can I see it?”
“No.”
“Is it a photograph?”
At hearing the word “photograph,” without any fear or hate in her voice, Caden’s worry vanished. Annika was looking at him with wide, curious eyes. No one ever talked about Iltech calmly like that.
“You know about photographs?” he asked. She nodded and half a smile crept up her face.
“My mother used to have them, back at home. Her camera was the reason …” Annika’s eyes darkened. “Well, you know.”
Caden couldn’t believe it. A Nobody was talking to him about Iltech and not running away.
“She had a camera? Like, a real one?”
“Yeah, but she never used it. We mostly looked at old photos. She had a whole box of them, full of photos of people we didn’t know. But we liked looking through them, making up stories about them.”
Caden’s brain was whirring so fast he couldn’t keep up. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. How did the camera work? Where did she find it? But the only question that came out of his mouth was the stupidest one of all.
“How did your mother get caught?”
That’s when Caden saw it, the same look of heartache that all the other Nobodies had whenever he talked about Iltech. Annika’s face went dim and she looked down at the ground. Caden had gone too far, and he knew it. He stood up and held out the photo to her.
“I’m sorry. Don’t worry about it. Here, you can have a look if you want.”
Annika’s face brightened. She set the lantern on the floor, shuffled into the cramped stall, and took Caden’s photo in both hands, examining both the front and back.
“Do you know who it is?” she asked.
“It’s my dad.”
“Oh. Oh wow. But I thought, I mean, everyone says that you’re not a Nobody. That you never knew your parents.”
“It’s true, I don’t know them,” Caden said with a shrug. “All I have is this photo. I don’t even know his name.”
Annika looked at the back of the photo, where the message was written, then handed it to Caden.
“Names aren’t important if there’s love,” she said, sounding more confident than Caden had heard her all evening. He waited for her to say something more, but she didn’t. He decided that meant it was his turn to speak.
“Well, it doesn’t really matter now,” Caden said with a sigh. “Starting tomorrow my dad is Mr. Stercus. And my brother is Dom.”
To his surprise, Annika narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “That’s not true.” She pointed to the photo in Caden’s hands. “That’s your dad, Caden, and he always will be. No matter what they say.”
Caden was taken aback. This did not sound like the same girl who had been thrown around like a sack of potatoes earlier today.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Don’t give up on him.” Her face looked like it was on fire in the dancing glow of the lanterns. “Your dad is going to come back for you someday. Just like my mom is coming back for me.”
Caden had to hold back a laugh. He knew he shouldn’t think this was funny, but what Annika was saying was ridiculous. In the thirteen years Caden had spent at the Home, no one’s parents had ever come back for them. All the Nobodies, Caden included, wished for it, but it had never happened. Nor would it ever happen. Even if their parents were released from wherever they were being held, it didn’t matter; only a pure household could adopt a Nobody. And yet here was Annika, telling Caden that her mother was coming for her with as much conviction as if she were telling him water was wet and Metl was round.
“How do you know?” Caden asked, hiding his skepticism.
“My mom saved me once, and I know she’s going to do it again.”
Before Caden could ask Annika what she meant, she picked up the lantern and stepped outside the stall.
“I have to get back. Thanks again and good luck tomorrow, Caden.”
With that, she was off. Caden watched the lantern bounce toward the Home, and a moment later he was left alone with his fading light and the horses. Mara and Reabon gave gruff snorts, happy the late-night visitor had finally left. Deber nudged Caden’s shoulder. Caden patted her on the head, ruffled her snowy mane, and sat back down in his pile of hay. Figures. Just as he finally made a human friend at the Home, he had to leave.
Caden collapsed into his haystack, hoping sleep would come quickly. The last thing he wanted was to lie awake all night, tortured by thoughts of what tomorrow would bring. He closed his eyes, letting himself be soothed by the rhythm of the horses’ breathing one final time.
Just as Caden felt sleep coming on, the sound of something clanging brought his eyes back open. It wasn’t a sound he heard often in the stable. Scuttling bugs and mice were common enough, but not things that sounded heavy and made of stone.
The clang rang out again. And again. Caden sat up. There was something familiar about the sound. It sounded like …
Caden’s heart stopped. It sounded like the Iltech spoon hitting the floor.
He grabbed his lantern and stood, ready to confront whatever was intruding into the stable. But he didn’t even have to leave his compartment. The intruder walked right up in front of Caden … on seven metal legs.
It was a spider. A metal spider with a spherical body the size of Caden’s head, and legs as long as tree branches. It looked up at him with seven glowing red eyes and twitching mandibles.
“Hello, Caden,” the spider said in a distorted voice. “I am here to inform you that you are going to destroy the world.”
Chapter 4
Spyder Unit Model Number 20219-B
Terror gripped Caden. He could only think one thing: he had to smash the spider. He ripped off his boot and raised it above his head, ready to strike, when the spider spoke.
“Please do not crush me,” it said in a monotone, metallic voice. “It would be more difficult for me to convey information to you in a damaged state.”
Caden stopped, boot held in midair, eyes glued to the spider. The seven shiny legs protruding out of its spherical body fidgeted up and down, and its red eyes flashed on and off. Deber wasn’t sharp enough to realize the spider was out of the ordinary, and the other horses were still trying to sleep. Caden was alone with it, his heart pounding against his chest like a stone hammer.
“What are you?” Caden asked, his voice quaver
ing. He was still ready to slam the boot at a moment’s notice.
“I am Spyder unit model number 20219-B.” As the spider spoke, its mandibles oscillated back and forth. That didn’t help its case for not being smashed.
“What are you talking about?” Caden demanded. His mind raced. “What are you doing here? Why can you talk? And why do you have seven legs? What are you?”
The spider looked at Caden with all seven eyes lit up, as if carefully thinking about its response. As soon as Caden thought that finally bringing the boot down would be a good idea, it spoke.
“Question overload. Please try again. Also, I have already answered the question explaining what I am. Do you require me to repeat the answer?”
Caden stared at the spider. It was horrifying, like a monster out of a nightmare. But there was something about its calm voice and the way it looked like a confused animal that was disarming. Caden lowered the boot. He stepped closer and leaned in to get a better view. The spider watched him, its metallic fangs twitching.
That was when Caden realized what he was looking at.
“Gotama’s Ant,” he whispered in awe. “Are you Iltech? Real, working Iltech?”
The spider’s face rotated in confusion. “Terminology unclear. Define ‘Iltech.’”
“You know,” Caden said, feeling tingly with excitement. “Metal stuff. From the past.”
“Question still unclear. Everything is from the past. Including what I just said. And what I just said then. And what I just said then. And what I just—”
Caden couldn’t take it any longer. He needed to know. He reached out and touched the spider on one of its shiny legs and stroked it up and down. It was smooth, just like he remembered the spoon feeling, but warmer. This Iltech was alive.