He held his hands out in front of him but didn’t stop. His attention seemed focused on Justice, not them. “Put that away. There’s no time for such nonsense.”
Mender placed a hand on her shoulder but she didn’t put the gun away, only dropped her arm so it hung by her side. “What do you want, mister?”
The emaciated old man stepped out of the shadows but then stopped, as if uncertain about Liberty and the gun. He seemed satisfied that she wasn’t about to shoot an old man and moved forward, kneeling down beside Justice. He felt for a pulse and then ran both hands down Justice’s arms, along his legs and then up his spine to his head. Finally, he turned to Mender. “I think it will be okay if we move him to my place.”
“And where’s that, Old Man?”
The stranger turned to Liberty. “Move your hands to his mid-section, and when I say ‘lift’, we’ll all lift at the exact same time.” He turned to Mender. “You’re stronger than I am so you’ll carry his head and shoulders. I’ll carry his feet.”
Mender didn’t move but again asked, “And where is that going to be to, Old Man?”
“The name is Patch, and I’ll tell you where as soon as we’ve picked him up.”
Chapter Thirteen
Patch’s place was in the subbasement of the jar warehouse. Even with all three of them carrying Justice it had taken every ounce of energy to make it down the long flights of stairs. Mender and Liberty were already near exhaustion from their day of carrying loads of jars to their airships, so it hadn’t taken much to sap the rest of their strength.
While Patch worked on Justice, Liberty walked around the basement trying to take her mind off her brother’s condition. Justice’s complexion was pale beneath all the blood and his skin cold and clammy. She wanted to help, but when Patch asked her and Mender to give him room to work, that left her with nothing to do but walk between row after row of assorted strange objects.
The amount of light shining in the basement dazzled and amazed her. It glowed from hundreds of tiny glass containers, each on wires hanging from the high ceiling. The sight was so beautiful she couldn’t stop staring and wasn’t content until she’d tracked down how it was powered. Following the strands of wires to a back corner, Liberty eventually found a large rotating machine into which all the wires vanished. She examined the huge machine but had never seen anything like it before. Its inner workings remained a mystery.
Patch’s place resembled a workshop more than a living area. It was littered from floor to ceiling with strange inventions. She had no idea what most of the bizarre objects were supposed to be, but soon became engrossed in studying his collection of robots. Some were as large as an average man but most were about the same size as Boy. A few were even smaller.
Although eager to keep out of Patch’s way, Liberty couldn’t help but walk back to where he sat, cleaning Justice’s wounds. She hadn’t got close but Patch still glanced up as though she were interrupting him. She took the hint and wandered off again around the room a few times, repeatedly looking over to see if Patch had finished. Mender had found a spot out of the way, across the room on the floor, but even though he said nothing, he never took his eyes off what Patch was doing.
Totally helpless, Liberty felt like throwing up. What if he died? She should have made certain he was with them at all times. She was a terrible sister. Her father had taught her how to survive but he’d offered no words of wisdom on how to take care of others.
She didn’t hear Mender’s approach and was surprised when he spoke. “That little guy looks like Boy. I wonder if Patch built them all?”
“How’s Justice? Will he live?” Liberty held her hands behind her back and crossed her fingers. It was impossible to read Mender’s expression, but at least he nodded.
“Patch thinks so.”
Liberty reached out and touched his arm. She lowered her voice. “But how does he know if he will or not?”
Mender covered her hand with his. “He says his father, and his father, and his father before him were all doctors. He’s been trained but hasn’t had any use for the knowledge the last few years. It seems that years ago the city had several hundred people living here, but food was so scare they all left in search of better scratchings elsewhere.”
She removed her hand from his and looked over at Patch. He was still busy tending to Justice, paying them no attention. “I wonder why he didn’t go with them?”
“I suspect he prefers tinkering with his inventions down here than interacting with real humans.” He looked overhead at the lights. “I don’t know what these things are but maybe he would be willing to install some on our airships. Having a way to see in the dark would come in real handy.”
A low moan interrupted them and Liberty ran over to the still prone figure of Justice.
Patch didn’t look up. “No broken bones and he’s regaining consciousness. Once he’s able to answer a few questions, I’ll know for certain, but I feel confident your friend will make a full recovery.”
“My brother.”
Patch looked puzzled.
“Justice is my brother.”
It was nerve racking waiting for Justice to open his eyes but Liberty couldn’t stop smiling the moment he did. She volunteered to sit up with him during the rest of the night, to keep him awake while Mender and Patch got some sleep. Liberty asked Justice questions about his life, just to keep him talking really, and gladly told him anything he wanted to know about herself.
***
“How’s our patient this morning?”
Liberty patted Justice’s hand. “I think he’s all talked out.”
Justice’s face was a mass of cuts and bruises but his smile still dazzled. “My sister never shuts up. I’m about crossed-eyed, but she won’t let me shut my eyes for more than two seconds before she’s jabbing me in the shoulder, telling me to wake up. Can you make her go away?”
Patch peered into Justice’s eyes before turning to her and smiling. “I certainly will.”
Liberty and Justice looked at each other in confusion for a moment but then laughed.
Patch rocked back on his heels. “I’m not certain what’s so funny. Go rest on your airship, I’ll keep an eye on Justice until you return.”
“I’m fine,” Liberty said. “I don’t need any sleep.” She appreciated Patch’s help but was still uncertain about leaving Justice here, alone with him.
“He needs sleep and so do you. He should be able to return to the airship by the time you wake up.”
Liberty wanted to argue but the look Patch leveled made her hesitate, so she patted Justice’s hand and went to wake Mender. “Get up, Sleepyhead. Let’s go check on our airships. With any luck the storm didn’t blow them away.”
Instead of heading off to bed, she checked to make certain Airus hadn’t been damaged by the storm the previous day. Fortunately, even though she had had to search high and low for her hat and goggles, everything seemed fine. Even then, Liberty still had a difficult time winding down, Justice’s injuries continuing to worry her. To help settle her nerves, she rewound Boy as she talked to him. “Justice got hurt yesterday.” She sighed. “I can’t believe I let someone else get hurt. I’m beginning to think I was better off before.” She patted his head. “At least then, if anyone got hurt because I wasn’t paying attention, it would only have been me.”
Liberty sat on the edge of the bed. She rubbed the center of her chest, as if that would somehow help make the pain go away. “How can I ever hope to keep Justice safe? I can’t leave him locked in the storage closet all the time.” She closed her eyes and wished she could go to a time before she’d met Boy, Mender and Justice. She wished she could somehow un-love them all. Her father had been right. Loving only led to trouble and heartbreak.
She lay back on the bed but couldn’t get to sleep, no matter how hard she tried.
A couple of hours later, Liberty sat up. She grinned as she bounced up from the bed and rubbed Boy’s head. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywher
e.” She slipped her shoes on and ran all the way back to Patch’s workshop.
“Did you build all these robots?”
Of course Patch was surprised to see her back so soon, but he took the unexpected company in stride and invited her to join him in a meal of indeterminate ingredients. Whatever they were, they had been boiled into a lumpy, brown, greasy stew.
A look of pride crossed Patch’s face. “I did.”
Not wishing to insult his hospitality, Liberty somehow managed to swallow most of the food without throwing up. She set the nearly empty bowl down and told him, “I have a robot that was submerged in sea water. Mender tried to repair him. He even added a dehumidifier, hoping that would eventually dry him out, but even though I wind him every day, he hasn’t worked since.” She nodded toward Patch’s robots. “It occurred to me that since you build robots you might be able to fix Boy.”
“Boy?”
“That’s the name his father gave him.” Liberty slipped a hand behind her back and crossed her fingers. She was afraid to tell him how much she cared for Boy in case he thought her insane.
Patch spooned another mouthful of stew into his mouth and chewed. After swallowing, he dabbed at the corners of his mouth before saying, “I’ve never heard of anyone naming a robot, but then I’ve also never heard of the inventor of one calling himself Father. Highly unusual, if you ask me.”
“Really? Mender calls his robot Robbie. I just thought everyone named them.” She stepped closer and placed a hand on Patch’s arm. “Boy’s quite an unusual robot. His father downloaded thousands of images to him, to safeguard, ones of the world before the Great War . Not only does he mean a lot to me, but he’s now the Keeper of our past. I really need your help. I have food I can give you, not only to fix Boy of course but also for caring for Justice.”
Patch patted her hand but then moved off, chewing on his bottom lip as he wandered past his inventions. Liberty watched him study each one but she had a strange feeling he wasn’t really seeing them.
He finally stopped and turned to face her. “Of course. Let me gather a few tools together, and if Justice feels up to it, we’ll take him back with us.”
Chapter Fourteen
“For pity’s sake, don’t pace. You’re going to wear the planks to sawdust, and you’re giving me a damn headache.” Mender rubbed his forehead.
Robbie walked over and stared at Mender’s mouth.
Mender threw up his hands and grumbled, “Now see what you’ve done. My damn robot’s at it now.” He glared until Robbie backed up a couple of steps.
“It’s not my fault. You’re the one who’s taken up cussing. Maybe you should watch your language.” Liberty looked toward her cabin for the hundredth time since Patch had come that morning.
Mender snorted. “Me, watch my language? That’s great advice from a woman who curses every other word.”
Liberty rolled her eyes and shot him a skeptical look over her shoulder as she walked by – yet again. “That’s an over exaggeration. I’ll have you know I’ve been cutting back on my cursing. I’m trying to set a good example for my younger brother.”
This time the snort came from Justice.
Liberty only stopped long enough to point a finger at him. “And you should be in bed. Just a few hours ago you were unconscious, and you still look like death warmed over.” She stopped pacing long enough to push a long, red lock of hair back from his eyes. His face was covered in raw, open cuts. She was very much afraid that some of the gashes were going to leave lasting scars.
He pushed her hand away. “I’m fine. Mother always told me I had a hard head. It will take more than a few wooden crates falling on me to kill me.”
Liberty threw up her hands. It was useless arguing with any of them. And what was taking Patch so long? What if he couldn’t repair Boy? What if the technology Boy’s father used was too advanced or just too different from anything Patch had ever seen before? After all, she had never seen another robot that could use its eyes as lights, and certainly not store photos. What if Patch only made Boy’s condition worse and then no one would ever be able to repair him?
Damn. Damn. Damn. Liberty could stand it no longer and so headed over to her cabin and peeked in. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Boy was standing in front of Patch, mimicking his every movement. Patch raised a hand and wiggled his fingers, and so did Boy. Patch opened and closed his eyes, and Boy did the same.
Liberty rushed in and hugged Patch, then hugged Boy. “You fixed him! I can’t believe it,” she squealed and hugged Patch again. “I mean, I wanted to believe but was too afraid to.” She patted Boy’s head. “And he’s okay. He’s really okay.” She couldn’t stop smiling.
Patch remained stoned-faced, but then she didn’t really know him all that well. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever seeing him smile before, so maybe it didn’t mean anything. She looked at Boy again. “He really is okay isn’t he? I mean, he’s up and moving,” but Boy hadn’t spoken since she had entered the room, but then she hadn’t really given him much of a chance.
She turned back to Patch. “Is Boy okay?”
“He’s running, but only time will tell if his memory has been lost or not. I don’t know the effects of salt water on his type of technology.” He walked behind Boy and adjusted the intake valves on his dehumidifier. “I think it’s a good idea to leave this installed. Maybe it will help with his recovery.”
He stopped and looked Liberty in the eye. “The technology used by Boy’s creator surpasses my knowledge by eons. The man must have been a genius. I have no idea what most of the things in your robot are meant to do, so I’ve left them alone. I’m hoping, since I was able to get him up and running again, that these things will automatically reset themselves over time. It only makes sense that Boy’s creator wouldn’t have wanted such a finely crafted piece of engineering to be turned into scrap metal the first time it got wet.”
Patch shrugged. “Or it could be he just thought it never would. Who am I to say?”
“I don’t know how to thank you. I’ve gathered your supplies together and I’ve asked Mender to carry them to your place when you’re ready.” She hugged him again. “You’ve been nothing but kindness to us. I know you could have simply stayed in the shadows and watched Justice die, but you didn’t. You could also have refused to help with Boy, but again you didn’t. You’re a good man, Patch. If you ever need anything from me, I’ll do everything within my power to help.”
Patch snapped his heels together and bowed. For the first time since they’d met, he smiled. “It’s been my pleasure. I don’t get many chances to come to the rescue of a lovely lady, and I suspect I won’t get many more.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “The only favor I ask is that on your next visit you stop by and say ‘Hi’ to an old man.” He picked up his tool bag and added, “And if you have any spare apples, bring a few with you. I’ve never tasted anything so wonderful in my entire life.” He winked and then left.
Liberty watched him go before placing both hands on Boy’s shoulders. “So what do we do now, Boy?” He didn’t answer, but when she blinked, he did too. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
Chapter Fifteen
“It’s better if Justice comes with me.”
“But why?” Liberty’s heart was breaking. Everything was going back to the way it was before. Soon she would be all alone again. Boy hadn’t shown any signs of regaining his memory. Mender was heading to trade for more wheat and potatoes and he wanted to take Justice with him. What made it even harder to accept was that Justice wanted to go. Everyone was deserting her.
Mender crossed his arms. “Justice wants to see my territory. He knows he’ll see yours after we meet back up in a few months.” His expression softened. “It’s not going to be forever. Besides, I have my own motives for taking him with me.”
The wind whipped a strand of hair into her eyes, so she tucked it behind her ear. “What’s that?”
“Thrasher has a daughter about Justice’s
age. There’s no one her age within miles of her parents’ farm. I think it’s time someone played matchmaker around here. The world’s getting smaller and smaller every day.” His cheeks were now a nice shade of pink.
“What if they like each other so much Justice decides to stay?” Her chest tightened at the thought.
Mender touched the sleeve of her blouse. “Then maybe you should be happy for him.”
“But I just found my brother.” A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. Mender wiped it away with a brief swipe of his fingertip.
“Justice isn’t like Boy. You can’t lock him in your cabin so you’ll have someone to talk to. He needs to have a future. Maybe Justice will choose to grow wheat instead of flying from place to place, trading produce. Let him decide. He can’t do that unless we give him some options.” Mender leaned an elbow on the ship’s rail. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll dislike Hope on sight.”
Liberty released a pent up sigh and leaned next to him, staring off into the clouds but seeing nothing. “What does this girl look like?”
“Hope? She’s a tiny little thing. Big blue eyes and blonde hair long enough to sit on.”
“Ugly, huh.” Of course Mender was right, he usually was. It would be selfish not to let Justice see as much of the world as possible.
Mender turned. “Justice is just a kid. He deserves to see what’s out there.”
Liberty faced him. “What about you? You’ve seen what’s out there. What do you want to be when you grow up?”
He touched her cheek and smiled. “I want to be like you, all tough and full of foul language.”
Liberty laughed in spite of the sadness pressing down on her heart. She kept her tone light. “I’m not full of foul language.”
“But you are tough, and you’ll survive a few months without us.” A stray lock of curly hair again blew out from behind her ear so he tucked it back for her. “I made you something.” He slipped a wooden comb out of his pocket.
I Will Breathe (Forbidden Book 1) Page 6