The Clockwork Ghost

by Laura Ruby

  “What do you want with a bunch of kids?”

  Candi said, “Do shut up, Lu.”

  “I’m asking a question,” Lu said.

  “I don’t pay you to ask questions, I pay you to do what I tell you to do,” Duke snapped.

  The girl muttered some string of nonsense to her brother, something that sounded as if her lips were made of rubber: “Wabe caban’t gabo wabith thabesabe gabuys.”

  “Stop that,” said Duke.

  The big boy said: “Whaby abaraben’t thabe Cabiphaberabists cabomabing?”

  “I said, stop.”

  “Mabaybe thabey’re taboabo fabar abawabay tabo habeabar?” said the bushy-haired boy.

  “Stop.”

  “Whaberabe abarabe thabey, Tabexabas?” said the big boy.

  “Knock it off!” said Duke.

  “Staball abas labong abas yaboabu caban,” said the girl. Then she said clearly, “What the heck are you ladies doing, anyway? Why would you want to work for this lying jerk?”

  “Why not dream bigger?” said the big boy. “Open a self-defense school. Be bodyguards for movie stars. Become movie stars. I bet you’d be great in action films.”

  “Or any films,” the girl said. “We don’t want to limit them.”

  “Can any of you sing?” said the big boy. “You could form a band. That could be dope.”

  “At least find work that doesn’t require you to terrorize people,” said the bushy-haired boy.

  The girl said, “I’d still like to know where my cat is.”

  Duke’s head was beginning to ache. Children were terrible, terrible little creatures. They should ship them all to a colony on the moon and let them raise themselves so that the adults could go to brunch in peace. “Can it, all of you. I’ve had enough of this bull.”

  “Mixed metaphors!” said the bushy-haired boy.

  The bigger boy considered Duke. “Your accent is slipping.”

  The mouthy girl said, “Where’s my cat?

  The bushy-haired boy said, “Where are you from? Sounds like Long Island to me.”

  “I’ve always liked Long Island accents,” said the big boy. “Why do you pretend you’re from somewhere you aren’t?”

  The girl: “And where’s Karl? I know you stole the other animals. I know you were keeping them on that island!”

  Duke racked his brains but he couldn’t think who Karl was, and then he was annoyed because he was wasting time trying to decipher the absurd babbling of preteens. “What are you talking about, you strange little girl? What island? Candi! What is she yammering about?”

  Candi turned her wide, innocent eyes on Duke. “Why, I have no idea, sir.”

  Duke longed for some antacids. A whole bottle of them. “Never mind. Round them all up and let’s get out of here. I need some sleep.”

  Candi smiled. Too late, Duke realized that Candi was being far, far, too cheeky for a woman who must suspect by now that she was about to be shipped off to Minnesota and replaced with someone younger.

  “It’s so funny you should say that. I was thinking you needed some sleep, too,” said Candi, right before she shot him with the fizz gun.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Tess

  There was a strange, burbling noise, like water flowing over rocks. A spray of iridescent foam rocketed from the barrel of the gun, swallowing up the man’s arms and legs. He toppled like a tree, yelling the whole time.

  “Ouch,” said the tallest blond woman. “I think that’s what the kids would call a face-plant.”

  “I’ll get you for this,” the man said, wriggling under the mountain of foam.

  “Don’t fight it, Duke. Accept the loss gracefully.”

  “I . . . won’t . . . accept . . . any . . . such . . . thing,” the man said through gritted teeth as the foam swelled around him.

  “No matter. In a minute, the foam will soak into your skin and you won’t be able to move, anyway. But you’ll still be able to hear and understand everything we say.” The woman laughed. It was the creepiest thing in the graveyard. Which was saying a lot.

  Where were the Cipherists? Why weren’t they coming?

  The other blond women were nearly as stunned as the man on the ground. “Candi?” said one of them. “What did you do?”

  “What did it look like, Toni darling? I know it’s hard for you, but take your best stab at it.”

  “You fizzed him!” said Toni.

  “That’s correct,” Candi said. “I fizzed him. And I’m taking his place.”

  “What does that mean?” another blond woman asked.

  “It means that I’m working directly for the big boss,” said Candi. “And you all answer to me, now.”

  “Why would we answer to you?” said yet another blond woman.

  “Because I’m the one with the fizz gun, you silly twit,” Candi replied. “And because you know I don’t need it to fizz you.”

  One of the blond ladies—Toni? Tammi?—looked as if she might want to test Candi’s theory, but Candi only smiled wider. “Please, try it, dear. Here, I’ll even put away the gun.” She slipped the gun into her dress pocket and held up her hands. “See? Do your worst.”

  Toni/Tammi thought better of it and took a step back.

  “Good girl,” said Candi.

  Tess pointed to the unconscious man. “Who is that?”

  Candi shrugged. “That is someone who liked to imagine he was a fixer. The fixer’s fixer.” She nudged the man’s hat with her boot. “Fixer’s fixer, my butt. Fixed you, didn’t I? In a few minutes I’ll hit you with the eraser. You won’t remember a thing.” She swept her hand over her head and her long, stiff blond hair came away. A wig. Underneath, she was still blond, but instead of falling nearly to her waist, the hair waved around her shoulders.

  “Layers!” gasped the other blond women.

  Tess had to admit Candi looked a little better, except for the dead eyes and cartoon-villain smile. Morningstarr Machines were more cuddly. Giraffe-owaries were more cuddly.

  “Now, children, we’re going on a little field trip. Your kind likes field trips.”

  “Our kind?” said Jaime.

  “Cultural elites,” said Candi.

  “Huh?” said Theo.

  “She means nerds,” said one of the other blond ladies.

  Candi did not lose the creepily upbeat tone in her voice when she said, “Lu, if you do not stop talking, I will use the fizz gun on you. And the eraser. And anything else I can think of.”

  “You didn’t mean nerds?” said Lu. “I always thought that meant nerds.”

  “You’re the nerd, Lu,” said another blond woman.

  “Just because I like video games?”

  Candi rolled her dead eyes. “Okay, we’ve all had our fun. Let’s get the children and this trunk to the van and we’ll head out.”

  An eerie hum filled the air, set Tess’s skin prickling. Candi and the other blond ladies frowned, looked around for the source of the sound. The wind picked up, rustled the leaves in the trees, and the calls of the monk parrots blended into a long and tortured moan.

  Ono, who had been perched quietly on the marble base of the angel, whispered, “Tabo thabe Laband abof Kabings!”

  “Is your toy speaking Chinese?” said Toni/Tammi/Whatever.

  “Zozi, Ashli, Lori. Fan out and go see what’s making that noise,” Candi said. “Could be one of their historian friends trying to distract us.”

  The blondes did as they were told, fanning out among the gravestones, blending into the darkness. The other blondes turned away from Tess, Theo, and Jaime so they could keep an eye on the surrounding grounds.

  Which was when Jaime grabbed Ono and pitched the little robot at the nearest blond woman, buckling her knee and spilling her to the ground. Tess kicked the rear of the next woman and sent her headfirst into the hole they’d dug to find the trunk. Theo hefted the trunk and brought it down on the head on yet another blond.

  A sudden burst of pain in her gut doubled Tess
over, and another burst on her back flattened her. Theo and Jaime were dropped just as quickly. A couple of blond women tied Tess’s, Theo’s, and Jaime’s hands behind their backs, and their ankles together.

  Candi stood over them. “I wouldn’t try that again.”

  Ono got to his tiny feet, marched slowly but resolutely toward Candi. When he reached her feet, one tiny arm lashed out and punched her in the kneecap. Candi reared back and kicked Ono. He spiraled like a football—

  —right into the hand of a small black woman wearing a simple coat the color of thunderclouds, who caught him gently. Next to her crouched a large black cat.

  Nine?

  “This is no way to treat children,” the woman said, in her low, raspy voice.

  “Who are you?” said Toni/Tammi/Toto. “Candi, who is that?”

  “A good question,” said Candi. “What’s with the Harry Potter coat?”

  “I like this coat. What’s with the red dresses?”

  “We like these dresses. And they give us superpowers,” Candi said.

  The black woman grinned. “Fascinating. Did you use your powers on your boss over there?”

  “Didn’t need to. I used the fizz gun on him.”

  “Why?”

  “I got a better offer. And a girl’s got to make a living.”

  The woman in gray put Ono back on the ground. “If you’re still taking orders, I don’t understand how it’s a better offer.”

  “You don’t have to understand. You only have to forget what you saw here and go back to wherever you came from.”

  “Oh, but I’ve come too far,” said the woman in gray. “And no matter how hard I try, I’ve never been much good at forgetting.”

  “A shame,” said Candi, her tone airy, unconcerned. “Ladies?”

  In a blink, the blondes had the woman in gray surrounded. The black cat lowered her head and growled.

  “Nine,” Tess said. “Please.”

  “Is that your kitty?” Candi said. “I remember her being bigger than that.”

  “Don’t hurt her,” Tess said.

  “Tell that to your friend, here,” said Candi.

  “She isn’t my friend!” Tess said.

  “Good choice. I don’t have friends, either.”

  “I have friends! But I don’t know who that woman is!”

  “A living mystery,” said Candi. “Soon to be a dead one. Or maybe something quite a bit worse.” She jerked her head and the blondes crouched, moving in on the woman in gray at the center. The cat suddenly sprang, banking off one of the blondes to swipe at another. The woman in gray bent in half, one leg planted, one leg kicking up like a switchblade to catch a blonde under the chin. Before the blonde fell, the woman in gray caught her, using her as a shield against the punches the blond women rained down. Then she thrust the blonde away. Coat swirling, she took out one blonde with a spinning backfist and the next with a roundhouse kick. The remaining blondes toppled like the rows of dominoes Tess and Theo used to set up around their old apartment.

  The woman in gray stopped, stilled, not even winded. “Is that all you’ve got?”

  Candi sighed. “You can’t get good help these days.”

  “You haven’t figured out that you’re still the help,” said the woman in gray, glancing down at the man in the cowboy hat. “You think you’ll take his place but you won’t. Another man will. And another after that. You think you’re indispensable, but you’re not. You think you have real power, but you don’t.”

  “Oh, I have power all right,” said Candi, her face twisting up into a snarl. “Would you like to see?”

  “Show me,” said the woman in gray.

  Candi jumped, rearing back her fist and then catching the woman in gray in the cheek. She absorbed the blow and then head-butted Candi, rocking the blonde on her feet. The silvery coat swirled like a cape as the woman swept Candi’s legs out from under her. Candi kicked out with both legs and managed to push the woman back, but only a foot or two.

  As the two women fought, the big cat ran to Tess, circled all around her, rubbing and purring and explaining herself: “Mrrow, mrrow, mrrow.”

  “Nine! I knew it was you. Where have you been?”

  Nine gnawed at the rope binding Tess’s hands together, biting and sawing until she’d shredded them. She left Tess to untie her own feet while she went to work on Theo’s bindings. Tess freed her feet and then went to Jaime. But Jaime had help already. Ono. One of his little arms had split into a pair of scissors. It chopped through the ropes that held Jaime’s feet. Tess undid Jaime’s wrists.

  In the middle of a thicket of gravestones, the women still fought. Candi was tall and quick and strong, but the woman in gray was stronger, faster, quick and brutal as a storm. She barely looked out of breath as she punched and kicked and punched again, her fists and feet a furious blur. With one tremendous kick from the woman in gray, Candi flew back and smashed into the Angel of Music, the sound nothing like music. She slid down the marble base and crumpled to the dirt.

  The woman in gray straightened and turned an unreadable gaze on Tess and Theo and Jaime. She was so lovely and so strange that it was almost hard to look at her, but Tess refused to avert her eyes. She wanted to ask so many questions, say so many things. Who are you? Where did you come from? Where are you going? Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  But what came out of her mouth wasn’t thank you, and wasn’t a question. “You stole my cat.”

  “I only borrowed her for a while,” said the woman in gray. “And I might have used a little dye to cover up her spots. It will wash out.”

  Tess winced at the sound of her own word coming back at her—borrowed. “You stole her,” she insisted. “Why?”

  “I was protecting her,” said the woman. “And I needed her help.”

  “For what?” Theo asked.

  “Nothing you need to worry about,” the woman said. She crouched by the trunk. “What did you discover?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about,” Tess said.

  The woman smiled. “You’re your mother’s daughter, Tess.”

  Theo said, “How do you know Tess’s name? What do you know about our mother?”

  “Not much anymore. I knew your mother a long, long time ago. People change. Maybe neither of you is like her at all. Was there something inside the trunk?”

  Jaime was looking at the woman in gray as if he were seeing a ghost or something out of a dream. “Yes,” he said.

  “Jaime!” Tess said.

  “We put all the stuff we found in our backpacks,” Jaime continued, as if he hadn’t heard Tess at all.

  The woman searched the packs, her frown growing deeper as she examined the papers and the money and the other items from the trunk. She held up the little green statue that looked so much like the Liberty Statue. “I don’t understand.”

  “We don’t, either,” said Theo.

  “I drew you,” Jaime said.

  “Pardon me?” said the woman in gray.

  Jaime stood. He patted his pockets and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He held it out to the woman in gray. Though he was taller than she, he seemed utterly awestruck by her. His hand was shaking.

  The woman unfolded the paper. Many moments passed as she examined it. Then she said, “An excellent likeness. I would not have thought you’d seen enough of my face that day on the island.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I drew this before. I’ve been drawing you for months. Maybe longer.”

  “He has,” said Tess. Theo nodded.

  The woman in gray took two quick steps forward and gripped Jaime’s arm. “How? Where else did you see me? The obelisk? Red Hook?”

  “What? No. I imagined you.”

  “Did you see a picture? A photograph? I thought I made sure none were taken but maybe—”

  “No! I . . . I . . .”

  Another quick step forward. “What? You what?”

  “I made you up.”

  The woman stepped back. Looked at
the drawing, looked at Jaime. A kaleidoscope of emotions animated her face: rage, pain, and lastly a cool detachment. She held out the drawing to him. “As I said, an excellent likeness. Yet, you did not make me up. If anyone conjured me, it was I and I alone. You must have seen me somewhere before.”

  Jaime’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, but—”

  The woman put up a palm. Stop. Jaime did, though Tess saw his eyes welling with tears. At the sight of them, the cool detachment gave way. “What’s your name?”

  “Jaime. Jaime Cruz,” he said.

  “You are a very talented young man, Jaime Cruz, and I’m glad to make your acquaintance, even under these circumstances.”

  She held out a slim hand bloodied on the knuckles. Jaime hesitated, then shook it gently, so as not to hurt what had already been wounded.

  “What may we call you, ma’am?” Jaime said, suddenly formal, as if he hadn’t spent months drawing her in his sketchbooks, as if they had not just witnessed this woman outfighting so many other ferocious women, as if she weren’t a dream made flesh.

  But before the woman even had a chance to say her name, it came to Tess like a blast from a fizz gun, like lightning from a bruised and purple cloud.

  “I’ve had many names,” the woman said. “But you may call me Ava.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Theo

  Things that simply could not be done by humans: finding a word that rhymes with orange in English. Traveling faster than the speed of light. Living for nearly two hundred years without looking a day over twenty-five.

  “You’re Ava,” said Theo. “But you’re not that Ava.”

  Ava quirked a brow, amused. “There’s another?”

  No. Nope. Nuh-uh. “You can’t be Ava Oneal. You can’t be.”

  Ava didn’t answer, but her silence was the answer.

  He couldn’t ask, he had to ask. “Are you a machine?”

  Jaime sucked in a breath. “Theo!” Tess said, obviously horrified. But he needed to know.

  “I’m always and forever a lady. And I’m as human as you are,” Ava said.

  “But that’s impossible,” said Theo. “Completely and totally impossible.”

  “I have been called impossible before,” said Ava. She let go of Jaime’s hand and held it out to shake Theo’s, then Tess’s. “And you are Tess and Theo Biedermann.”