Spare and Found Parts (10 page)

“Well, you don't have to or anything, and I'm—I'm really sorry about all the business with Oliver. He told me.”

Gossip the speed of lightning, Nell thought as Ruby began to lead her bike with one hand and used the other arm to link hers. A cage of unwanted physical affection had descended upon Nell, but she held her nerve and let her friend take her arm.

“You just don't seem interested in anybody and time's passing and everybody . . . well, I'm so worried that you're going to stay holed up in your father's house until they land you up the side of Kate to build. It'd be such a waste, Nell. You've got an amazing lineage. The city deserves your talent.” Ruby rested her head awkwardly on Nell's shoulder as she spoke. Nell did not ask her to remove her head from her shoulder. She almost told Ruby that Nan Starling felt similarly, but she didn't. She let Ruby speak.

“I mean, I just think Oliver would be a good fit. He cares about you, he deals in anatomy—I'm supposing he told you all about the new work he's at—it would all make sense. You could do so much good.”

Nell sighed. “Technically that's spot-on, Ruby. I know you're coming from a good place.”

“Of course I am! Do you think I want you all locked up in your house being sad all the time?”

“No.”

“We've all got things to be sad about, Nell. But we get on. We try to build our own happiness.”

Nell smiled a little. “You're right actually. That's exactly what I need to do, Ruby.”

Ruby beamed. “I'm so glad you agree. Oliver's a nice lad, really. I know he can come on a little bit strong, but
give him a break. He has a lovely face on him, doesn't he?”

Nell gave her a flat look.

“Ah, now, he does!” insisted Ruby.

“Then why don't you go with him?”

Ruby hummed. “He's for you. Sure the pair of you have had it coming for years.”

“Can—can we not do this, please?” Nell hadn't it in her for this game, this little-push-little-shove that Ruby'd been trying with Oliver for years. “I—I have something more important I'd like to talk to you about, in private.”

Ruby halted her bicycle dramatically.

“In private? Does that make it a secret?” she asked, too loud. “You? You have a secret?”

“I'm full of secrets, Ruby.” Nell stuck out her tongue.

“I know, but a secret you actually want to tell? Holy wow, who is he? Or she? Who are they? Nell, tell me this minute, I absolutely refuse to move until you do.” Ruby crossed her arms and pointed her nose in the air. Her bike clattered to the ground.

“Ruby!”

“Nope. Tell me.”

“I really, really can't talk about it in public. Trust me.”

Ruby made a face. “Girleen, you're killing me.”

“We can cycle back fast. We'll be there in twenty if we go as quick as we can.” Even saying the word
computer
in the broad daylight in the street could catch the wrong ear, bring ugly consequences down upon her.

“Fair enough.” Ruby sighed, picking up her jangling bike. “Fair enough. But before we go . . . look, I'm really sorry again, about Oliver. I just can't bear to think of you ending up in the parklands forever with nobody but the stoat and your father.”

“I won't end up with nobody but the stoat and Da. Just because I can't do things your way doesn't mean they're not getting done.” Nell scowled.

Ruby gave her a long look and shook her head. “It must be very lonely up there above the rest of us, Nell. Come on back to the park so you can tell me this secret.”

The girls hopped on their bikes and sped off over the black earth, swung down a hill, and clipped over ancient tram lines, once electrical, now just steel indentation.

Up the barren Cathedral District they spun, then out past Heuston Falls where the rush of Livia water spilled down through the once train station and into the river. The roar of the water was welcome, alive against the heat. Reams of white foam erupted with a bright force against the old brickwork; some last
remaining gray columns knotted like interlocking fingers behind the foam and drench. Sometimes, in the morning, rainbows would hop out of the clear watery prisms and the whole thing would be beautiful: the mouth of a goddess. But now it was just a fresh rush as they passed. Nell felt the spray against her cheek, refreshing against the hot mugginess of a too bright evening.

Before long the girls had cycled up the long road at the parklands mouth and were dismounting their bikes outside Nell's tumbledown home. Ruby almost danced up the steps. “Sure, amn't I only dying for a cup of tea and a biscuit and a secret!” she sang, letting herself in.

Kodak had been waiting at the door and sped up Ruby's leg to her shoulder, rubbing his nose on her face. She laughed. “Howya, Kodak, bet you're lonely something fierce today!”

Nell picked her pet off her friend's shoulder and cradled him in her arms as they walked through the creaky hallway to the kitchen, clean and ordered, far from the scene of intensity and hurt it had been only a few days before. Nell placed her satchel on the table.

“Is your father around?” Ruby asked, a little cautious. Daniel must have passed some remark to her about what had happened, Nell thought, putting the kettle on.

“He's probably in the lab. He might surface for something to eat at some point.”

She sat on the counter near the stove and crossed her legs, Kodak nesting in her lap. Ruby pulled up a chair at the old wooden table and rested her head on her hand. “So.”

“All right. This is a big one.”

Ruby smiled. “I want to know everything.”

Nell took a deep breath and unwound the long, airy cotton scarf from her neck. The dress she'd put on that morning had a sweetheart neckline, low. As she pulled the scarf, Ruby's smile fell away, and her mouth opened slightly. There it was: Nell's scar, long and thick, falling from the crest of her lip down her chin and neck and chest and disappearing under the fabric of her dress.

Nell's fingers shook slightly as she folded the scarf and handed it over to Ruby. Her friend took it, then clutched it close to her as though it were something precious. Nell held still, imagining light coming in through the soles of her feet and filling her body slowly with a calming glow. She wasn't going to panic out of this.

“Gosh, it's actually really beautiful, Nell,” whispered Ruby, earnest.

Nell placed her hand over her sternum to feel the seam of her skin.

“Thank you,” she replied, not really knowing what else to say.

The kettle began to whisper, then sang a shriek of heat. Nell leaned over and moved it to another hob, then took two large mugs from the press behind her head.

“Get us some teabags; they're in the tin on the table,” she directed.

Ruby fished out two small papery pouches from the old box on the table and tossed them to Nell. They sailed through the air silently, and Nell caught them with grace. Ruby had not stopped staring at Nell's scar. Nell placed the bags in the mugs and poured the boiling water on them. Steam lifted. The tension in the room was butter thick.

“I could explode, Nell. I'm glad you let me see the scar. I'm so glad.” Ruby walked over to get her mug and leaned next to Nell. She brushed the loose tendrils of hair from Nell's collarbones to take a closer look. “You know that procedure changed the world. That scar is the monument in its honor.”

Nell did not tell Ruby not to touch her. Instead, she said, “Yes.”

“You shouldn't cover it. You should let everyone see.”

“I know.”

“Story of your life.”

“I know.”

“Was there something else? Someone else? You're murdering me here. Are you going to tell me the secret now?”

“Go over and open my satchel.”

Ruby took Nell's satchel in her lap, her eyebrows knitted, something of a hopeful smile playing across her lips. She removed a water canister, a jam jar full of tiny screws, a screwdriver, a dead battery, a pliers, a spare combination lock, another battery. She looked at Nell and raised her eyebrows.

Nell's ticking had risen considerably in volume, and her hands were still trembling. She felt very exposed without her scarf. How wonderful it would be to wrap the cotton all around herself and disappear. Poof.

“You carry an awful lot of boring, heavy stuff around with you, Nell.” Ruby tutted, excavating a box of matches, a magnifying glass, the hand, a cluster of pens held together by an elastic, two empty jars, Nell could hardly breathe. Ruby had skimmed over the hand as if it were another part of her tool kit, as if it were nothing.

She spluttered, “Ruby, you found it.”

Ruby puzzled over the inventory laid out on the table. “The hand?”

“I”—Nell began, balling her fists tight into her scarf—“I want to build a person. A—a boy.”

There was a beat of silence, a little too long before Ruby snorted. “A
what
? Nell, if you'd ever let me introduce you around to some more of the apprentices, I'd be able to find you a live one in no time.”

She was joking or trying to, but her voice was all wrong.

“I saw the salvaged parts in Oliver's armory. My father's early models, all laid out in working, good order. I want to put two legs, two arms, a spine, shoulders, a head, a face, eyes all together, and I want to find a computer to make them all
work
together and—and live.” Nell didn't look at Ruby, but rather down at the heap of fabric in her lap. She wanted to sound brave and bright, like an inventor, not the child of an inventor. Not a child.

Ruby didn't say anything, so Nell continued, her voice shrinking by the word.

“I thought if I could build a person that maybe he would be like me. You know that people are difficult for me and that because of this”—she gestured to the metronome beating out of her chest—“I can be difficult for people, too. But I have a way through all that now, and it's a contribution. If I can use a computer for good, who knows what we could learn? What it
could teach us. If I could get one to speak, maybe it could even reach outside our island, reach the rest of the world. Think of what that could mean.”

Nell looked at Ruby for something, anything, a sign of approval or interest, but Ruby's face was ashen, her brow heavy, and her mouth a knot. She turned Nell's magnifying glass over and over.

“Computers, Nell . . .” she whispered. “They're unholy. They're—” She put her hand up to her eyepatch and moved it up above the wave of her fringe. Beneath it, the socket where an eye was not. Just a blank space, a web of pale scar tissue. Ruby pierced Nell with her gaze, quiet for a moment.

“Look at the price the rest of the world made us pay before,” she said. “We're
still
paying for it. Thinking machines tore our people apart, and we're only just healing. We can think enough for ourselves. Without code, without internet. We don't need it. There are so many other things you could contribute, so many other things you could do—”

“But they wouldn't mean anything, Ruby!” Nell burst out, standing up out of her chair. “I can't just go up there and contribute something that doesn't mean anything! I've nothing else to give, only this. Sure, I could crib out a limb casing that looks lifelike and responds a fraction more accurately to heat or a socket
that responds and connects more seamlessly to human flesh, but that's all in
his
shadow; that's his work! I want something more! If I could get a computer up and talking . . . We're ready. And you could help! You could help me design a body, a face; you're so skilled, Ruby. I could make him work, and you could make him beautiful!”

Ruby didn't say anything for a second, and Nell's chest ticked like a fevered roulette wheel. The distance between them deepened with every tick, the kitchen tiles a canyon.

“Nell, I can't,” Ruby whispered, then her voice rose bravely across the new void between them. “It'll get out to the Pastoral Council; it could cause a disaster. We don't need to know everything; that kind of greed belongs in the past, and it's selfish to try so you can have . . . a friend.”

Ruby's voice almost broke with the hurt of it, and Nell gasped. “It's not just a friend, Ruby. You know I'm not looking to replace you!” But as these words bubbled out, Nell wasn't sure at all if she was being honest. It caught in the air, oxidized, and turned rust, poison.

Ruby looked down at the tool kit on the table, the pieces of Nell's life. The hand sat there among them, still reaching out to be held. She wiped an errant tear from her powdered cheek and said, her voice trembling,
“It's must be easier for you to imagine building someone new who meets your every need rather than make a compromise and try to see the world from my perspective, even once.”

A river of awful truth flooded the chasm and pushed them farther apart, the two girls shores at opposite ends of an icy sea.

“I can't help you, Nell. This isn't my kind of trouble. I—I have to leave.”

Ruby took her bag and was out the door before Nell could even muster the courage to release the “Please stay” that had been crouching in her throat, the “Just hear me out,” the “I need you.”

Ruby didn't close the kitchen or hall doors behind her, and the awful heat from outside followed in her wake. Nell's cheeks flushed suddenly. How
dare
Ruby walk away from her! Who did she think she was?

Fine. Fine. Oliver would help. Of course Oliver would help. Besides, even if the leagues of difference between her and Ruby were now impossible to ignore, her oldest friend had given her one invaluable thing.

Ruby had never said building a person was impossible. Selfish, yes. But not impossible.

From the Desk of Oliver Kelly

Apprentice to Marian Kelly, Mortician

Meet me at the Bayou after closing on Wednesday. 4ish. Before sunrise.

I found what you were looking for.

X

O