by Ioana Visan
But Riella didn’t need any help. She slid up and down the red silks with her loose fiery curls dancing like a flame around her. The technicians still fiddled with the lights to get the maximum exposure, but she looked ready to take the world by storm. Standing in two separate groups, Rake and Spinner, and more to the side Serioja, seemed to agree as they stared with their heads tilted back at the body covered in a flesh-colored suit, moving close to the top of the conical roof, right below the golden cage that enclosed the nightingale prop.
“She’s good,” a voice said at his left.
Nicholas kept his attention on the target but risked casting a glance at Anya. She didn’t look upset, more like resigned, the way she stood with her arms folded and her chin set.
“But I’m better,” she continued with a smug grin when Nicholas didn’t say anything.
“Are you trying to distract me?” he asked. “Do you want her to fall?”
“Oh, Nick, is that what you think of me?” Anya rested a hand on his arm. “Come. Buy me some cotton candy. I need cheering up.”
“What about…?” Nicholas nodded in Serioja’s direction.
“They’ll be fine.” Anya waved a dismissive hand.
Riella was making a heart-stopping descent, and once her feet rested safely on the ground, Nicholas let himself be pulled towards the exit. Loud clapping exploded behind them.
“So, cotton candy?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes. And let’s get one for Cielo, too. She kept her word.” Anya grinned wickedly. “I’ve still got better costumes!”
The Rocket Girl
The raindrops trickled down Rake’s neck, soaking his collar and adding to his discomfort. It was too early in the morning, and all he wanted was to be back in bed with Riella curled up against him. Instead, he followed Spinner on the path between piles of abandoned cars and dismantled pieces of machinery. The junkyard spread like a wasteland around them, a real gold mine if you knew what to look for and where. Unfortunately, everything was covered in a film of mud, and they didn’t have a map.
To his right, Spinner leapt with ease, despite the large tool bag attached to his belt, onto the roof of a crashed truck. Due to the light rain, he held a hand above his eyes while he checked his surroundings.
“Anything?” Rake asked. The humidity in the air acted like sand in his prosthetic joints. He glanced in irritation at the metal debris all around, longing to turn on the magnetic fields to provide some relief.
“Uhh, I swear it was somewhere around here when I looked from the top of the big wheel.” Spinner shifted in place.
The truck squeaked under his weight.
Rake shoved his fists in his pockets, used to Spinner’s lack of orientation skills. It didn’t matter on the battlefield where they constantly received orders in their earpieces, but there was no one to give them directions here.
“Aha! There it is!” Spinner pointed at an even higher pile of scraps. “Now, let’s see … we can go around to the end of this line and take two turns or—”
“We go straight through.” Rake climbed next to Spinner and jumped on the other side of the truck before the roof could collapse under them.
They repeated the procedure three more times, cutting across the junkyard until Spinner stopped in front of an elongated hunk of metal tilted on a side. A victorious smile distorted the web of white lines scattered across his face, turning it into a creepy mask. “See, I told you it was a train car.”
It would have been if any of the wheels had still been around. The few windows were busted, but the walls, despite the scratches and dents, looked solid enough. The circus could use another car after losing two during the summer tour. Reluctant to believe such luck, Rake pulled his wet shirt away from his chest and walked closer to investigate. He squeezed inside through an open doorway and pulled a flashlight out of his pocket.
The beam from his flashlight revealed no compartments. The inside walls had been destroyed by time and scavengers. The floor was missing, and they hadn’t been able to see the left wall was absent too because the car half lay on a side, propped against more pieces of twisted metal. It would cost too much to replace everything, so it would be better to get a new car if they ever could afford it. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon, not after the terrible season they’d had.
“It’s useless,” Rake said.
“Damn,” Spinner swore under his breath while he peeked inside. He moved his own flashlight around to add to the little light that came from outside and stopped the spotlight in a corner. “What’s that?”
Rake turned and narrowed his eyes. An open palm rose from the debris. Too big for a human hand, it looked like metal under all that dirt. He stalked ahead and pushed away bits and pieces of debris that got in the way. An arm appeared, connected to the shoulder and, farther down, to the chest made of the same material. It didn’t react to the faint magnetic field in his wrist, though the metal objects in the vicinity vibrated. So, not metal, but something else, totally unknown to him. And Rake knew his metals.
“I’ll be damned.” Spinner let out a low whistle, peering from the side. “It’s a bot.” He tilted his head. “What’s it doing here? The front line is six thousand kilometers away.”
Rake shrugged. Who knew? It had to be broken beyond repair, otherwise the Japanese army wouldn’t have abandoned it. Someone had probably stolen the bot with the intention of selling it. Bad plan since no one wanted to be caught with such a hot commodity in their backyard and risk being accused of sympathizing with the enemy. Still, the bot had travelled a long way to make it to Kazakhstan. They could still salvage some parts, anything they could use in their prosthetic side business. The outer shell was intact, so not everything inside had to be broken.
“Find the other arm and let’s pull it out,” Rake said.
Spinner dug through the debris, but the left arm was caught in between two iron beams, twisted at an odd angle. He tried to lever it out with one of his long knives and shook his head when nothing moved. “It’s stuck. We’ll need a crane to get it out.”
Too bad there was no such thing at the junkyard, and they didn’t have one at the circus, either.
Rake knocked on the remaining wall of the car. Hollow. “Reverse field.”
“What? Noooo…” Spinner made a long face. “My joints ache for weeks whenever we do that.”
“It’s the only way to get it out.” Rake cracked his neck and drew in a deep breath. This was going to hurt.
Spinner grumbled but took position with his legs spread and fists brought together in front of him. His muscles bulged along his arms in anticipation, making the leather jacket look alive.
At Rake’s signal, they reversed their fields and set them to the highest intensity for a full second. The earth shook, and everything made of metal around them was blown fifty meters away in the blast, including the car. Once the pain subsided and he caught his breath, Rake cracked one eye open. They stood on clean ground, with only wood and plastic and the bot left beside them. He’d been right. It wasn’t made of metal.
“It’s so … big,” Spinner said for lack of a better word.
On a regular day, their enhancements made the knife throwers the biggest people in the room. Not anymore. Although it was lying down, the bot had to be at least one head taller than Rake. It would barely fit in one of the train cars while standing.
“I bet Big Dino would love to see it move,” Spinner said with a smirk.
That was unlikely to happen, considering the state it was in. A quick assessment had revealed no weapons of any kind. It didn’t matter, they couldn’t have used them anyway.
Rake grunted as he picked up the bot’s leg. “Grab the other one.”
Together, they dragged the bot across the uneven ground, heading in the direction of the exit. Their muscles strained under its weight—the damned thing was heavier than both of them put together—and although the material provided little friction, that didn’t help much.
The man waved his hands, saying, “No take … no take!”
Rake let go of the bot and held his ground, his hand going automatically to his knives. “We already paid the entry fee.”
“Parts … only parts,” the owner said.
“Well, it’s not working.” Spinner pointed at the dead bot. “Do you want us to cut it in half first?”
The man gave the bot a wary look, and his right eye rolled crazily in its socket. “No take…” His voice came out with less conviction.
Rake’s scowl was countered by Spinner’s calmer look.
“How about we fix your eye and call it even?” Spinner asked.
The man pulled his long tunic tighter around himself and wrinkled his nose. “You can … fix eye?” His thin moustache trembled.
“Sure we can fix it.” Spinner pulled a scalpel and a screwdriver from his tool bag. “We can repair anything.”
Ten minutes later, the new client touched his face and cried loudly, “I see … no see in twenty years … thank you!”
“Can we leave now?” Rake stomped his feet. He disliked the sinking into the mud feeling.
“Go! Go!” The man waved them away.
They picked up the bot again and carried it to the platform at the back of their truck.
“If you know anyone else in need of fixing, send them to The Nightingale Circus. We’ll be there the whole week!” Spinner said before leaving.
* * *
“You have to see this!” Spinner waved at Big Dino when they pulled up the truck near the train. Around them, a crowd of chatty clowns watched the gymnasts rehearsing their numbers.
“What? You’re bringing the competition in now, too?” Jacko asked.
Ignoring his comments, Rake jumped out to check on the dirty bot. Where was the rain when you needed it?
On top of the steps leading to his car, Big Dino paused and slowly turned his massive body around. His already green complexion became even greener at the sight of the bot. “What do we have here?” He rubbed his hands together, his round, black eyes gleaming with interest.
“Isn’t it a beauty?” Spinner grinned.
Rake opened the factory door and returned with a hose a minute later. No way were they bringing the bot into their workshop with mud smeared all over it.
“Yes, clean it up.” Big Dino nodded as much as his short neck allowed. “Then try to open it very carefully. You can skip the show tonight.”
Both Rake and Spinner looked up. Unless someone was seriously sick, everyone’s performance was mandatory during the show each night. When had the rules changed? But Big Dino had turned his back on them, so they shrugged.
Rake washed the bot and brushed all of the dirt off until its shell shone in the afternoon sun. It was dark brown, and although it was made of several parts, he couldn’t find a way in.
“Did you get the factory ready?” Rake asked as Spinner came out to join him.
“Yes. It's good to go.”
“Good. The fair will open soon, and we don't want any visitors to see this thing.”
Spinner grabbed the legs. “How do you think they powered it up?”
Rake grunted as he lifted his end of the bot and didn't answer. Sometimes, Spinner just needed to hear himself speak.
They dumped it on the floor and stared at it with hands propped on their hips, wondering where to start.
“It must open somewhere.” Spinner kneeled by the bot’s side.
Half an hour of poking and prodding brought no result.
“Should we get Nicholas to do it?” Spinner asked. “The army uses telechargers to fight bots … not successfully, but this one’s already dead so…”
“I doubt it would work,” Rake said. “He’ll probably just break what’s not yet broken. He doesn’t know what’s inside.” And that was the problem, no one did. Their scanners hadn’t been able to get through the shell.
“Well then, there’s only the drill left.” Spinner brought one from the shelf and pointed it at the left side where the breastplate met the abdominal plate and the back plate. “I’ll start here. If only I could chip it a little…”
“You think?” Rake’s eyebrows rose. “These bots are made to survive direct blasts.”
“That’s different from what I’m doing here,” Spinner yelled over the screech of the drill. “This one can’t run away.”
Spinner didn’t need his help, so Rake focused on the broken spotlights encased in the bot’s shoulders and the suspensors on the back of its legs. This wasn’t a terrestrial unit. At one point, this bot had been able to fly.
“Umm … Rake?” Spinner’s voice came out hesitantly from behind a welding mask. He’d switched from a drill to a cutting torch during the past few minutes. “Come and take a look at this…”
Rake stepped over the bot’s leg and crouched by his side. “What?”
A narrow crack, two centimeters wide and five long, had appeared between the plates.
“Put your finger in there,” Spinner said.
Rake looked at him like he was insane.
“It’s not hot!” Spinner grumbled. “I’ve already done it, and I’m fine. The scanner doesn’t pick up anything because the angle is wrong, so you need to feel it yourself.”
Reassured by the sight of Spinner’s hands covered only in old scars, Rake inserted his index finger into the hole. When the last knuckle got in, he ran into a soft, elastic membrane. Not a membrane, this thing had a certain resistance and consistency. “It feels like…”
Spinner nodded. “That’s living tissue.”
Rake sat back on his haunches. He’d been on the battlefield, but back then the bots weren’t led by humans. Was this a new model? He couldn’t tell for sure, but by the look of things, the bot had to have been in that yard for several years.
“What?” he said in answer to Spinner’s persistent stare.
“We opened it … and it doesn’t smell.”
“There’s a living thing in there.” Rake drew in a breath and ran a hand over his face. “We approached it all wrong. We were trying to open a tin can when this is much more. Bring the cables.”
“What for?”
“The bot won’t open as long as it can sustain life, I'm guessing, and for some reason, its inhabitant can’t or won’t give the order. I’m going to short circuit it. Then it’ll have to open.”
Spinner winced as if he were the one electrocuted. It wouldn’t have been the first time. “What about the … creature? What if it kills it?”
“It’s either that, or we suck it out through that hole,” Rake said.
Spinner brought the cables.
The spotlight locations needed a bit of digging to get to their connectors before Rake managed to attach the cables. “Clear.”
Spinner turned on the dial.
The bot didn’t shake like a patient on a hospital bed. Several seconds passed before it screeched, and its shell split and flipped to the side, starting with the face, chest, and gradually advancing towards the arms and legs.
“What the…?”
Rake and Spinner gaped at the bot's occupant.
“It’s female.” Spinner blinked in surprise.
The creature’s unnaturally long limbs had the appearance of a jellyfish, covered in translucent skin that left the veins and bones visible. Small breasts decorated her bare chest while her sex was hidden behind a metallic sphere the size of a human head that pressed her stomach against her spine.
“She’s been in there for a while,” Spinner said. “Look at the length of her hair.”
Her skin was sickly white, as if she had never seen the sun before, but her long hair was black and so were the almond-shaped eyes, protected by thin eyelids.
“She’s breathing,” Rake said as an afterthought.
Spinner pulled up an arm, and her long, flexible fingers popped out of the bot’s hand, b
ut the arm remained limp in his grip. “We need Big Dino. We’re not qualified for this.”
Rake made no move to stop Spinner as he ran to the window and called for their boss. The sphere had caught his attention. He’d never seen anything like it before. It was held in place by wires, but no wire went into the sphere. Why was it in there and what did it do?
Huffing and puffing, Big Dino entered the factory while Spinner was debating whether to set up an IV line.
“Well, well, well, look at this…” Big Dino bent at the waist to peer inside the bot. “I was hoping for that…” He nodded at the sphere. “But I wasn’t expecting that.” He scratched the dark crusts on his chin as he stared at the girl.
“What is it?” Rake asked.
“This?” Big Dino knocked on the metallic sphere. “It’s a power source. I’ve had a similar one once, but I gave it away. This thing can power up an entire platoon of bots.”
“It’s not connected to anything,” Rake said.
“That’s the beauty of it. It works by remote.” Big Dino showed his teeth in a wide grin. “It will get us through the winter with ease.” He straightened his back. “Okay, detach it and store it safely in the engine room. We’ll redirect the power from there. I’ll show you how.”
When the sphere removed, Spinner asked, “What about the girl?”
Big Dino gave her a long look. “Wake her up.”
“Shouldn’t we call Cielo—”
“She lives trapped inside a bot. She doesn’t have any mental powers.”
At Big Dino’s impatient gesture, Spinner brought a syringe and stabbed her arm with the needle.
The girl stirred shortly after that. First, her arms trembled, and then her eyes opened. She whimpered and flapped her limbs like a fish taken out of the water, unable to hold her weight.
Damn, they should have brought in one of the girls before waking her up. No wonder she freaked out when faced with three men staring down at her, two covered in scars and one looking like a toad.
“Easy, sweetheart, we’re not here to hurt you,” Big Dino said in a soothing voice.