Red Sky: Rising

by Ben Archer

  “I’m sorry.” My fists unfold at the sudden realization of who the real assholes in this situation are. The tension in the room lowers along with my hands. Those of us with lungs, take a deep breath as the standoff ends. I suddenly have the burning desire to make it very clear that I never would have intentionally put this family in danger. Maybe it’s because these kids actually seem scared of me. I can’t stand the thought of children, even metal ones, being afraid of me.

  My olive branch is reaching down to offer Dad a hand up. “Listen, we invaded your home because we were in a really bad spot out there. My intention was never to harm you or your family. I’m only asking this because we’re completely out of any other options and desperate, is there any way you can help us?”

  All eyes turn to the man. He takes his time helping the kids off his lap and they, in turn, help him off the floor. Every few seconds he’ll give a sideways glance as if he’s trying to form some opinion of me. Then, after calmly smoothing his shirt, he stands mutely in front of me. “My name is Hayden Flynn and this is Quinn.” Side note: I just realized I don’t know her last name. I should really ask about that the next time no one is trying to kill us.

  “Servo” says the man.

  “Servo?” I repeat.

  “Name‘s Servo.” His voice has no inflection or emotion. Just the cold tone of an automated message.

  “Great to meet you Servo.” My hand reaches out again, though he still shows no interest in touching it. He only gives it a quick glance before walking away.

  “I’m sorry for my husband’s attitude. He doesn’t like humans too much.” Mother explains while approaching us. I’m having a really hard time digesting the last sentence. The “female” robot just explained that her “husband” doesn’t like me because I’m human. All-the-while he’s the only one even partially human. Plus there’s a few “baby” robots clanking around. So yeahhhh…

  “Where are my manners?! I’m Nila, this is Kylea, and that little man over there is Colin.” She explains while affectionately pulling them in close to her. “And that grumpy Gus over there is Tom.”

  “Servo!” shouts robo-man.

  “Your name is Tom!” she snaps back.

  Nila acts like any typical flesh and blood woman who’s agitated with her husband. Complete with attitude and a swing in her hips. She even bats digital eyes while correcting him sternly. Without saying another word, Servo presses a small panel to reveal a hidden door along the far wall. He wastes no more time on us and stomps bullishly from the room. This leaves it up to Nila to invite us in their home; which she joyfully does.

  Stepping over the threshold is like traveling back in time. My heels are in a dingy aluminum room, but my toes are all the way back in 1957. The entire place has been meticulously decorated exactly as you imagine a 50’s home would be. The walls are plastered with a classically tacky pink wall paper that’s been out of style for decades. A mint green sofa and accompanying ruby chair are the highlights of the room. (They actually hurt to stare at too long) Though my favorites are the studio portraits of the entire family wearing matching green sweaters. They’re even wrapped in the cheap golden frames of the Sears Roebuck era. Humans doing this is funny, robots doing it are freakin’ hilarious!

  All these monuments to a lost time have been carefully arranged around a tube-style television up front. Of course it’s playing a black and white show from the same era we’ve been magically transported to. While the TV is definitely intriguing, what I’m most drawn to are the long frilly curtains that frame four window-like screens. They show an entire computer generated neighborhood waiting right outside. That imaginary world is complete with a perfect sunny day and well-manicured lawn. It’s filled with everything I know isn’t actually out there: passing cars, neighborhood children playing ball, big billowy oak trees, there’s even dust accumulating on the window sill!

  The entire place could have been plucked directly from one of my happiest dreams. It’s pure serenity, wrapped in a blanket of absolute perfection, and deep-fried in good ol’ fashioned nostalgia!

  My cheeks tighten from the sun’s warm kiss coming through. I’ve only been here a few minutes, yet I’m already fully immersed in the innocence of this place. If there’s a glitch in this digital perfection, I can’t find it. Pressing my hand against the window allows me to fully delight in the heat of the day outside. The gesture causes the playing children to pause briefly, before returning to their game of catch. I can’t help but affectionately return their cheerful wave.

  “Can you believe this place Quinn?” I excitedly turn, only to find her buried under a pile of metal kids. They’re anxiously showing off their wide variety of toys. None of those are modern or complicated at all. They’re just simple wooden or plastic dolls that have obviously been hand-painted with great care. No matter how advanced their own bodies are, their lives are completely uncomplicated and innocent.

  While the eager children are excitedly welcoming their new friend, Servo is toiling away at a workbench with stuff that will (hopefully) help us. His old-fashioned white shirt has crisp pleats that perfectly match the creases running down his khaki pants. The deep grooves of his hands are heavily scarred, most likely from the not-so-innocent world outside. Shockingly, the rest of the family is nothing like him. There’s absolutely nothing human about them except the way they act, which funny enough, seems to be the one thing missing completely from Servo.

  The mother guides me gently by the hand over to the couch. She’s dressed in a traditional tea length dress with a red velvet bow pulling in at the waist. She asks in the soft tone of any caring mother about the “nasty people chasing us” and if “cookies would make it better.”

  “They won’t be here long enough for that Nila” interrupts Servo.

  His rude tone leads to a few more verbal jabs between the amusing couple. I interject that, “while we really appreciate the hospitality, we have to get going.” This must have been music to Servo’s ears since a large section of the floor almost immediately retracts. The smell of fresh cut wood drifts out from the new passageway. At the snap of his fingers, ugly florescent lights reveal a steep staircase to nowhere.

  “You want out? I want you out. Let’s go.” He doesn’t even look back at us. He just grabs a large wrench and disappears into the tunnel. I don’t usually follow strange men, who obviously hate me, into a pit under their house, but this seems to be an exception. We say goodbye to the bouncing metal children and they seem genuinely sad to see us go. The girl clamps onto my leg with the strength of a miniature grizzly bear! I have to gently pat her head, while holding back a river of painful tears. Quinn mistakes my swelling eyes as sadness, but it really isn’t. It’s just the normal reaction of someone trying to snap your bones in half.

  The one thing I actually will miss is the fake utopia outside. I limp back over to the window to have another lingering look. The friendly children stop playing to wave a long goodbye. They fill my gut with the burning desire to find a place like this of my own one day. If they still exist.

  I suddenly understand everything about Servo. There’s no need to know who he is, or where he came from, to recognize what he wanted from life. Quite simply, he couldn’t find happiness, so he built it. No wonder he’s so pissed! I’m a threat to the dream he’s worked so hard to perfect!

  As if on cue, “Hurry up asshole!” erupts from the tunnel below. “Watch your language in front of the kids Tom!” Nila unleashes in a fit. This launches them into a new round of sitcom-style squabbling. After landing a couple great verbal jabs, Nila hands us a small olive green knapsack stuffed with water bottles and snacks of every kind. “Please be safe out there. I’ve heard stories…” concern trickles off every word.

  Several large tears leak from Quinn as the metal matriarch hands over the satchel. In return she gives Nila a tight hug that leaves a large dent where her ribcage would be. She obviously forgot how strong she is now. Even though Nila doesn’t seem to notice, I quickly shuffle Quin
n over to the hole in the floor ─you know, just in case.

  “I’d tell you we’ll come back and visit, except I don’t think Servo would like that very much.” Quinn tells our hostess. “Oh don’t you mind that old cranky pants! You come back as soon as you can! Bring a hammer and you’ll be best friends for life!” she laughs. I don’t know if you’ve heard a robot laugh before, (I certainly hadn’t) but it’s the weirdest, most insane noise in the entire world. It’s as if an accordion is being played through a drive-thru speaker!

  I know the winds of life won’t blow us back this way; however, it’s a nice thought to leave on. I wave goodbye again while attempting to navigate the steep stairs into the mystery hole. As the door seals shut with a vacuum-sealed drag, I turn my attention to Quinn, “I haven’t felt this good in a long time. My insides just feel all warm and fuzzy!”

  “Me too!” she giggles. We continue to rant and rave down the narrow tunnel as the dull florescent lights grow noticeably dimmer. I completely ignore all the obvious red flags and continue along the creepy hallway to nowhere without a care in the world.

  A soft whistle from Servo changes the ominous hall into a dazzling display of lights blooming like wild dandelions. They float along gently, burning with a kind glow, to lead the way. Every step brings new batches of the sparkling fairies out of hiding. Walking amongst them is to cross a magical field of low hanging stars. It’s so mesmerizing that I forget to keep moving and simply stare in wide-eyed amazement at the surreal beauty unfolding all around.

  After a not-so-gentle reminder from Servo prompting me forward, I discover what’s waiting for us at the end of our magical walk. Resting down low in the center of the room is a bulging blue vehicle. The fantastic fairies wonder up to let their warm light reflect off its glossy paint.

  Our chariot awaits.

  And it’s a damn rocket!

  Chapter 30: Ground Control

  Well, maybe not the outer space kind, but I’ll be damned if that’s not a rocket car! An audible giggle squeaks out from the excited 5 year old in me. The fireflies continue blooming, revealing every sexy curve. She’s sitting down on the tracks taunting me with wide hips and a soaring tailfin. Her finely sculpted nose points down the tunnel as if ready to pounce on some unsuspecting victim.

  My fingers glide down the buttery smooth sides of the curvaceous navy blue ship. Masterfully sculpted vents blend seamlessly with the golden stripes running from tip to tail. Out back there’s a chrome engine peeking out to hint at the vicious power underneath. Servo brings her to life by uttering a single word, “breathe.” There’s almost emotion in his automated voice this time. The throaty engine happily sings back from deep down in its eight cylinder belly. Every happy note sends sharp flames shooting out behind her.

  The entire machine becomes a concert of moving parts. While the exhaust is spitting dragon fire, the cockpit and chairs swivel to greet us. The cabin inside is wrapped in a rich leather that’s absolutely flawless. Silver buttons, chrome switches, and glowing gages wash everything in a cool light that makes it feel straight from the damn future.

  “How cute!” I exclaim. “It has four seats! You have a family rocket!!!” Our cyborg host is not as amused by this as I am. There’s a look of sheer disgust clearly etched on his face. “What? Really! It’s so cool!!!” I attempt explaining my genuine sincerity, only to get an annoyed grunt in return.

  He bends down to trigger a wall of lasers tracing the outline of our bodies. My constant fidgeting forces the scan to start over several times. That, in turn, leads to more being yelled at by Servo. And this leads to the wrath of Quinn coming down on me as well. In my defense, all this bottled up enthusiasm has me wound up tighter than a knife fight in a phone booth!

  When they’ve both finished shouting, and the scan finally has the chance to complete, the entire cabin launches into a mass of moving metal. The whole thing flows like molten lava until two seats magically disappear and the remaining ones fit us perfectly!

  The impatient cyborg instructs us to sit down and “for tits sake, don’t touch anything.” Guess you gotta respect he’s gonna be a real curmudgeon to the bitter end. “You know Servo, even though you’re getting ready to shoot me off into some mysterious black hole, I gotta say this is a really nice place you got here. You’re such a lucky guy! All those shiny steel faces, plus you’ll never have to worry about cavities or braces!”

  “It’s the pheromones I pump into the place, asshole.” He says in that monotone voice. “They keep me happy.” Slamming the dome shut overtop us.

  “Bwah ha ha ha! That was him happy!?!” Quinn and I both erupt in euphoric laughter from the admittedly mild joke. The automatic belts can barely contain our irrational hysteria.

  “I mean can you imagine….” The rapid thrust of the rocket taking off cuts me off mid-thought. My open jaw releases a dog whistle scream that would be embarrassing if Quinn could possibly hear it over the roar of the engines.

  WHOOOOOOSSSSHHH!!!!!!!!!!

  Zooms the speedy car down the track. Such incredible speed is akin to having an obese gorilla setting on your chest. The force folds little ripples in my cheeks, while the unexpected rush leaves my stomach behind at the station. It also permanently embeds the seat bolts into my skin. Even the welds dig into the bulging bones of my shoulders.

  We continue picking up speed until the tunnel lights become one long blurry line. The air is pounding on the exterior of the car and Quinn screams along in perfect harmony. I can’t tilt my head to the side, let alone turn it all the way around, to check on her. At least the intense ride is a brief one. The pressure eventually eases enough to resume taking full breaths again. My entire body has the distinct feeling of being ripped apart and put back together again ─loosely.

  The welcome sight of a magnificent rainbow pours in through the window when our shuttle exits the tunnel. Maybe it’s the pheromones speaking, but from where I’m sitting, this is the perfect view of the last little bit of daylight remaining. The sun has almost reached the tipping point where it will soon spill behind the soaring mountains for the rest of the night. But for now, it leaves behind a sky that’s been painted with the richest reds and most glorious purples.

  This is a perfect example of the deceptive beauty of this place. The gorgeous weather and picturesque sunset will soon be a bitterly cold night that will attack us at every opportunity. Deserts are places of devilish extremes; with dishonest perfection stuck in between.

  For now though, it’s fantastic.

  The powerful car glides to an eventual stop. This finally gives my stomach the chance to catch back up. Even the queasy feeling doesn’t stop me from leaping out as soon as the top slides opens. Quinn though, is much less motivated. It takes several more minutes before she’s ready to leave the comfy seats. I use the extra time to explore our new surroundings. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long. Simply because there’s infinite sand and colossal mountains. That’s it.

  It’s eerily quiet with nothing in sight. Not even plants are stupid enough to live out here. There isn’t a single thing, living or dead, in sight. A lump of apprehension forms at the thought of venturing off into this barren wasteland. So when I see Quinn carelessly chugging a bottle of water, I quickly tilt it back down for her. It’s safe to say the gesture is not well received... My explanation of the value of water is met mostly with eye rolls and attitude, but eventually it’s put back in with the rest.

  Maybe it would be best for me to handle the food and water for now. While the pack is currently bursting at the seams, it won’t be after a few days. At least our path seems to be pretty clear. The lengthy mountain ranges leave us with two directions: forward and backward. Since we obviously won’t be going back into the city, forward it is.

  They say a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. So with that nugget of optimism, we launch off toward the wastelands without any more delay. The flawless weather will only last for maybe another hour so we need to make as much headway as possi
ble. Quinn is dragging behind in typical quiet fashion. I try to draw some mindless small talk from her since the crunchy sand isn’t very entertaining. I start with a question that should’ve been asked long ago, “You know what? I don’t know your last name.”

  “Really?” she sounds surprised.

  “No, seriously, I never asked you. In my defense we’ve had a lot going on lately.”

  “Merrin.” She answers. “Quinn Alexander Merrin. My parents thought they were having a boy, so they kept Alexander, and tacked Quinn in front of it. It fits though. I’ve always been a tomboy.” We ramble on for hours, diving into favorite stories and lost memories that would have been far too painful to dredge up alone. The conversation hurts us both in some extraordinary ways. She pushes on through the monsoon of tears; laughing, crying, and even shouting to ease the pain.

  I’ve had decades to deal with my grief, yet somehow managed to avoid it. What she achieves in a few short hours is both comforting and demoralizing. In a single story about a broken baseball bat, she goes from not being able to string together two words, to a tear slathered smile that refuses to fade. She doesn’t hide from the grief like me. At first it was shame that tormented me the most. Fear of who, or what, I had become. Eventually it became the one emotion that never diminishes, guilt. No matter how hard you scrub, it’s a permanent stain on your soul.

  For the first time I’m not the one filling the air with words. The barren landscape perfectly matches the emptiness I feel inside. The only positive I see is the full moon tonight. It’s casting an extra-long shadow that follows everywhere I go. Real or not, knowing there’s something that will never leave me helps.

  A little.

  Quinn Chapter 2: House of the Rising Sun