Feed the Machine

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Feed the Machine Page 19

by Mathew Ferguson


  “Not good for business?”

  “No boss.”

  Nola’s heart was thudding—she was sure Gardner could feel her pulse—and she was fighting down panic that came with a strong dose of rage. There was a knife under the bar to slice lemons. Grab that, turn and slash, open her throat.

  Gardner let go of her neck.

  “Get back to work,” she whispered and walked back to her spot.

  “Yes boss,” Nola replied.

  After they were free of Fat Man there would be a reckoning. Somewhere silent, somewhere dark, somewhere the law would never know about. Tirrel, Gardner, hell, maybe even Fat Man if some mob hadn’t torn him apart.

  She hoped Ash and Silver were having more success at gathering materials than she was.

  “Hey baby,” Tirrel said, sliding into an empty seat at the bar.

  “Hey yourself.”

  She winked and vamped and pushed away the rising red mist that whispered vicious things.

  Chapter 43

  Ash

  He staggered in through Fat Man’s gate dead on his feet. He didn’t see Kin until he nearly stepped on him.

  “Come to the house so we can talk,” Kin hissed, walking alongside him, away from the guards.

  “Run before they see you.”

  Fat Man had a strict no pets rule. They were technically in a public street at the moment but no one except for Fat Man’s family ever went there.

  “Come to the house before I scratch you!”

  Ash blinked his eyes, trying to push away the fatigue but there was no moving it.

  “Too far. I’ll meet you out of his area.”

  “Fine,” Kin hissed. He vanished into the falling darkness.

  Ash trudged with the rest of the family into the compounds. No one said anything about Kin—they were so tired it was doubtful they’d noticed. They walked past the mess hall, the scent of delicious food tormenting them. They weren’t allowed to eat until they’d showered. Another of Fat Man’s rules designed to keep them in debt.

  Ash followed the line into the showers and stepped under the hot soapy spray, fully dressed. After twelve hours in the pile digging and hauling the hot water was some kind of miracle. He mechanically stripped off his dirty clothes and stepped out of them, leaving them on the floor. Cleaners stood to the side to grab the wet clothes and shoes to take them away. Now naked he let the water run over his body. The heat hauled exhaustion and sleep behind it. He washed the dirt off his arms and legs and walked out of the showers. Another slave handed him a fluffy white towel. He dried himself, received a new uniform and new boots.

  More debt every day. Everything had a cost and there were rules making you spend. You had to be clean to eat. Anyone who tried to clean themselves at home was rejected as being still dirty. Those who showered in the compound were let in. You had to take your clothes off in the showers. You were then offered a towel. You were not allowed to bring in your own. Every step was a cost added to your debt.

  Ash dressed in the clean uniform. He sat down to tie his boots.

  “All family members must wear assigned boots or shoes unless otherwise directed,” he whispered to himself.

  After the medbeating of the little boy they were given the rules. Fat Man said there was only one rule but that wasn’t true. They were all family not slaves. After all, they had joined voluntarily hadn’t they? The word slave was on the list of proscribed words. So was Fat Man.

  Family members were to be courteous and obey all instructions given.

  Family members were to maintain good hygiene.

  Family members were to work in the best interests of the family at all times.

  They were given paper—actual paper—with these rules and a hundred more printed on them. Ash had run his fingers over the perfect machine-printed lettering. Fat Man must have a printing press hidden away he had whispered to Nola.

  She’d tapped her finger on the page.

  Theft is forbidden.

  Any family member who is aware of a crime and does not report it shall be subject to the same punishment as the criminal.

  If you see something, say something.

  Ash shook his head. Fat Man and his thugs could demand certain words were used but the underlying meaning was the same. They were slaves and he was their owner.

  Clean and dry and somewhat revived he entered the mess hall. It was filled with clean tired slaves gulping down as much food as they could fit in their bellies. Stretching the length of the room was a long table filled with trays and tubs of food that were constantly refilled by endless slaves. There were steaks, sausages, eggs, bread, pap, stew, fish, fruit, salads, desserts. Ridiculous extravagant food served in decadent sauces. As much drink as you wanted. Behind each tray stood more slaves, watching and recording everything you took. Eat as much as you wanted. Add to your debt.

  Ash grabbed a tray and walked down the line, filling it as he went. A juicy steak seared on the outside, pink on the inside. Potatoes smothered in a cheesy white sauce, the faint hint of onion. Crusty bread. Fresh salad, crunchy and delicious. A pudding—a sweet custard with crisp sugar on the top served in a porcelain bowl. As much calories as he could stuff in his mouth. The mess never closed and you could eat as much as you wanted.

  He found an open spot at a table and began shoveling food in his mouth.

  Like everyone else who joined Fat Man’s family a week ago, he’d eaten as little as he could on the first night. Stick to pap, get out of debt one day. But then came the brutal second day, hauling junk from sunrise to sunset, hands shaking, almost fainting. That night he gulped down all the food he could grab, caring little what the slaves wrote down in their books.

  At the rear of the mess was a kitchen filled with hasdees. Each had been loaded with tempcubes. Slaves printed food and delivered it.

  Slaves feeding slaves counted by slaves guarded by slaves directed by slaves.

  They had been told on the first day they could request their debt total whenever they wanted from the Ledger Men. But it wasn’t up to date—they only did their accounting once a week. Ash had planned to ask—now he didn’t care. If their plan worked they’d have more than enough money to free themselves. Then they’d reveal the collars and destroy Fat Man and this whole sick system.

  “Hey Ash.”

  A blonde girl smelling of soap sat down beside him. Her tray was filled to the brim like his.

  “Hey,” Ash said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He glanced at her and then down at his food.

  She’s beautiful.

  “I’m Emi.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  He prodded his exhausted brain to say something else but he was too tired for clever, cute, charming.

  “The first week is the worst. It gets a lot better, believe me.”

  She tore apart a crusty bread roll and slathered it in butter before popping a piece of it in her mouth. He glanced again.

  Green eyes.

  Freckles.

  “Where do you, uh, work?”

  “Golden Door now. I was in the Scour for two years before they moved me. Before that I was a sorter, you know, because I have small hands. Or had. When I was a kid.”

  She tore off another piece of bread and ate it. He looked at her hands—small and delicate, as pale as his mother’s.

  “So you’ve worked for—I mean, worked here for a long time?”

  Stupid.

  Emi leaned in close to him and lowered her voice. Her hair brushed against his arm and he couldn’t help but to breathe in. Soap and fabric and girl.

  “It’s okay to say slave if you keep your voice down. But yes, I’ve been a family member since I was three.”

  Ash thought of many dumb things to say but they were all variations on oh, that’s a long time and so he focused on his food instead.

  “Definitely eat as much as you can,” Emi said, slicing into her steak. It was smothered in a mushroom sauce.

  They ate for a few more minutes in silence, surrou
nded by tired slaves around them making conversation. No one talked about their work. They were more concerned with their one day off per week, which guard was sleeping with which slave, rumors and lies.

  “I met your sister. She’s funny.”

  “Yeah?”

  Moron. Just stop talking.

  “She’s cheeky.”

  The silence spun out but Ash was too tired to care. He finished his meal, gulped down the pudding (which fortunately was cold rather than hot) and then walked away, a slave rushing in to clean his tray.

  He saw Emi watching him as he left the mess.

  Outside there was a chill in the air. Every day now would grow colder as winter approached. It was a horrible time to search in the Scour. There were gales, hailstorms and a deep aching chill that dug into your bones. The only upside was the hazels stayed close to their dens and so did the Scabs. If you could handle the cold it was a much safer time to travel and spend nights outside a fenced city. The cold felt good on his face, refreshing but he knew it wouldn’t last. The uniforms were thin and didn’t warm much.

  Ash passed various guards who landed somewhere on the continuum between ignore him or glare and grit teeth. Some gave casual glances. Others looked furious, as though they might smash him down for walking past them.

  As a family member he was obligated to obey any guard no matter where he was. If they told him to stop, he stopped. Thankfully none of them said a word as he passed. Most of them had their arms crossed, huddling beside buildings trying to keep warm.

  Soon he crossed the unofficial line that separated Fat Man’s violent kingdom from the rest of Cago. He walked two streets away and turned the corner, getting out of sight of any guards. As soon as he was, Kin hissed at him from under a building.

  Ash got down on hands and knees and crawled under. It was dry and dusty and still somewhat warm from the collected heat of the day.

  “Back here,” Kin instructed, moving further into the darkness.

  Ash followed, careful not to get his uniform dirty as he crawled, not letting his knees touch the ground.

  Under the middle of the building it was lit by a crack in the floor above their heads. Someone had dragged a large piece of worn carpet under there at some point to use as a bed. Ash sat on it, his legs crossed.

  “There’s no one there. The building has a hole in the roof and the light comes in. No one is coming back here either,” Kin said, seeing Ash peering through the crack in the floor.

  Then he walked over to Ash and rubbed his head against him.

  “Hey buddy,” Ash whispered, scratching around Kin’s ears and under his chin. Kin purred and closed his eyes. Soon he was dribbling.

  Between the days of hard labor and his full belly, Ash was ready to sleep. As he rubbed Kin’s ears and pressed his face against his fur, a deep relaxation came over him.

  “How are you going?” Ash murmured.

  “We have most of the materials Silver needs,” Kin said, his voice distorted by purring.

  Ash sat up and stopped stroking Kin’s fur.

  “What?”

  Kin stepped off his lap and sat on the ragged carpet. He licked his shoulder before answering.

  “I have been going outside the fence at night with my assistant Hello to collect material.”

  “But… how?”

  Kin stopped grooming himself and looked at Ash like he was slow.

  “He’s a bird so he can fly over the fence. If any hazels come, I stay in the pile.”

  “That is so dangerous.”

  “For humans maybe.”

  Kin resumed his grooming. Ash rubbed his face with his now-cold hands and tried to wake himself. He hadn’t managed to collect anything for Silver. There were too many guards, too many eyes watching. He had heard hints that things could be smuggled in and out but had no idea who was doing it.

  “We need gold. A small nugget would be perfect. Jewelry if you can’t steal that.”

  “There is no gold in the pile in any large amounts. Some in the broken circuits but there is no way to steal them without being seen.”

  “Forget the pile. There is no gold there. You need to steal gold from Fat Man. Nuggets or jewelry.”

  “How do you know there’s no gold in the pile?”

  “Silver did a search before the tablet broke. Fat Man has it all now.”

  Ash frowned and looked at his callused hands in the gloom. Silver had told him the tablet showed all the gold but failed to mention there was hardly any out there. What if it was the same for anything else valuable? He’d agreed to the plan of revealing all the collars Fat Man had locked away but he’d wanted to be rich and free before he did that. Use the tablet to send Raj off to find valuables, get him to buy them out of debt. Find more gold, platinum, maybe even sourcecubes. Get filthy rich and take down Fat Man.

  He’d been blinded by dreams of gold and food and had accepted Silver’s brief explanation of what the tablet was and how it worked. She told him the hasdee chip seemed to know about everything and so she asked it questions. Nola verified it worked and he accepted his little sister was some sort of genius.

  Who told him lies of omission.

  He let go of that for the moment. Silver didn’t communicate much at all and if you asked her a question she’d often give you a very literal answer or none at all. In her mind she told him the truth: it can find all the gold out there. The next part about it all belonging to Fat Man wouldn’t have occurred to her.

  “I don’t know how to steal gold. Some of the higher guards wear jewelry so maybe…”

  He trailed off. So maybe what? Go on a theft spree that was likely to go bad?

  “You need to think of something. There isn’t much time left.”

  “What do you mean? We have all the time in the world now. It might suck to take months to find the holes to smuggle things out but we can afford the time.”

  “Before Nola snaps and kills someone? Before one of the mines collapses with you in it?”

  Kin resumed grooming, licking the same shoulder he’d already cleaned. Nola was definitely a worry and Fat Man’s mines had collapsed in the past but there was something else going on. Kin was lying.

  “How much time do you think we have?”

  “A week perhaps,” Kin said a little too glibly.

  “That’s a very specific timeframe.”

  “Hello has been watching Nola. She was cursing yesterday when she left the Golden Door. That’s a bad sign.”

  “Are you lying to me?”

  “Me? Lie?” Kin put on his best shocked face.

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “You’re not an answer.”

  They sat there in silence a moment before Kin walked over and pushed his head against Ash’s hand. He relented and stroked down Kin’s back.

  “Can you be a guard? They walk around.”

  “Maybe.”

  Ash’s mind drifted away from now as Kin crawled into his lap purring. Emi had said she’d worked in the Scour and before that she was a sorter. Now she worked at the Golden Door. So it was possible for slaves to change what they did. He hadn’t really thought about it but there must be some way to become a guard. But how?

  Kin purred and snuggled into Ash but the relaxation from earlier didn’t return. He had a plan forming but it wasn’t a good one. It had a chance of working but an innocent person would be hurt.

  The question was: how much bad can do you in the pursuit of eventual good?

  Was toppling Fat Man worth an innocent possibly dying?

  Chapter 44

  Silver

  She wished she had her cracking tool she’d invented but knew better than to return home to collect it. It was hidden in the special hiding place along with the tablet, the hasdee and the cube she’d found underground. Fat Man used bugs to spy on people and she was sure one was spying on her.

  Maybe she should build another one, pretend she’d invented it now?

  She looked at the shockstick on her bench
and decided to use the vise like Michael and Ed had.

  Silver glanced over at their tables and saw they already had the casing open. They’d damaged some of the internal circuitry when they broke them apart.

  Ed was tracing wires, holding them with a tiny pair of tweezers and following their patterns. He was fifteen although he looked older. He sometimes stuttered but only when he wasn’t talking about their work. When it was work he was like the hasdee: a torrent of information that leapt all over the place.

  Michael was working on cutting the casing off without breaking any more circuits. He was old, maybe thirty but he acted like Ed, making snorting noises to make them laugh and telling jokes about electrical resistance that were funny.

  Silver had been put in a general repair pool of people but as soon as they saw her work they moved her away to a building set far back in Fat Man’s compound. Their room was a room inside another larger room.

  That’s where she’d met Ed and Michael and been given a thousand toys to play with.

  She’d also met Miss Honey.

  She was short and round and very pale with blond hair and laughed a lot. She gave them new projects, sometimes more than one a day and she talked with them about what they’d discovered.

  She was the one who brought the shocksticks in this morning and explained what they were. She sat at her desk and always had a smile for them if they looked at her.

  She’s a poisonous liar.

  Silver ignored the voice and wandered over to Michael’s table. He’d managed to remove most of the shockstick internals and was using a fine cotton thread tied to a metal stand to keep them suspended so he could examine them. Silver saw the internal circuitry was bonded with the inner casing, wrapping around three-quarters of it. There was a small gap aligned with the recessed button that turned it on.

  If she could cut a hole in the empty spot and use a light gas solvent, maybe she could detach the circuit from the casing.

  She’s planning on killing you. Take something sharp and stick it in her throat.

  Silver returned to her workbench and picked up her fine cutter. She turned it on and adjusted the beam to minimum thickness. Behind her she heard Michael snort.

 

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