Spare and Found Parts (24 page)

A
s Nan Starling walked into the Crane house, something in the architecture seemed to shift to her will. She illuminated the hallway. The cobwebs suddenly became ashamed of themselves; the dust cowered at her gaze. Under her eyes, the house reminded itself it had once belonged to her. Her assistant and the white car disappeared. She carried a single case, leather, quilted, cream, not even big enough to imply she was staying for long.

She was cloaked in dove and fog linen, the barest suggestion of rain on her shoulders, glimmering on her silvery hair. Short and soft bodied, she was the brightest thing for miles. The creases in her face were deep but elegant; her brown skin was still supple for all her years.

She turned first to Ruby, taking her all in. “Well,
well, Miss Underwood, how you've grown. You look fit for work! Whatever have you been up to with your pins and tape?”

Nell didn't say anything. Nan hadn't clocked her yet. Nell hadn't seen her in a long time, only her ink on paper. She seemed shorter to her, smaller. An impulse ran through Nell to tear down the stairs and throw herself upon her grandmother, to inhale the incense and cotton of her, to find safety in her arms, but she held strong.

Her eyes flicked to Julian's door. He'd be coming out soon. He'd have to, now that Nan was here.

“Miss Starling—” Ruby began, but Nan interrupted.

“Oh, I'm well beyond miss, dear. Nan, I'm just Nan now. That'll do just fine.” Her voice was accented with the grandeur of the Pasture, glinting like the edge of a coin.

“I—I was making—I was about to measure Nell for some new clothes,” Ruby stammered, all her flare fizzled out. Ruby had been in the way of Nan Starling only a couple of times that Nell could recall. She held far more reverence for the dowager, for the oracle than Nell did.

“Penelope.”

Nan looked across the hallway and up the stairs to her grandchild.

Nell stood on the stairway, her hands clasped together, chiming alarm.

“Aren't you going to come down to me? Say hello?” Nan demanded.

Nell placed one hand on the banister and slowly began to lower herself down the rest of the stairs. “I'm sorry if I'm slow. I've had an operation.”

Nan had grown older since Nell had last seen her, but her presence still felt celestial, as if her glow would have been too big for any room, and the closer she got, the more Nell could feel her pull.

“I know about the operation,” Nan said, watching her descend, “though you should be well back up on your feet by now.”

“I
am
well back on my feet. I'm still just a little slow.” Nell found herself childlike, indignant, and moved faster to prove herself. She made it to the ground and over to the old woman. Nan's arms were already extended, awaiting embrace. Nell leaned into her chest, buried her face in her grandmother's neck, the scent of her perfume and sacred powders filling her nose, too much, too dense.

“No matter now, girleen,” Nan said, patting Nell's back fondly. “As soon as we get you down to the estate, you'll be leaping around in no time. Lots of space to heal. The air will do you some good.”

“Sorry, did you just say—are you taking Nell to—” Ruby piped up immediately. Nan was unperturbed and gently released Nell from her embrace.

Nan's eyes were dark pools now. “I presumed Julian had filled you in. Does this mean you're not packed?”

Nell blinked at her and shot Ruby a look. Ruby shook her head, mouth slightly agape.

“That boy,” Nan said, as though she were remarking on a ten–year-old who'd accidentally broken a window. Her composure was pristine; her tone, clipped. “Well, since he's got his head under the bonnet of some project or other day in day out, I suppose he can't really be trusted to deliver information in a timely and appropriate manner. He and I agreed that after your little incident you should come stay with me. You'll better recover out of the way of any errant . . .
machines
.” Nan just about hissed
machines
like a curse, the name of a demon.

“What did he tell you?” Nell asked. Her pulse thundered. Nan must know everything. Nan must have seen all this somehow in tea leaves or in a mirror; she must know Io was just a few feet away.

“Penelope, I know there's an android in the house. I appreciate your attempts at making a, well,
revolutionary
contribution—your father spoke very highly of your intent—but neither you nor this city is prepared
for the changes that a sentient machine will bring about. Computers ruptured how people speak to one another; they tore away the stitching of how our society works. Whole towns of people didn't speak a word aloud for years before the Turn, so greedy for information, for the silent sanctuary of their digital world! You think you're missing a bigger conversation? The world out there is alive, but it's silent. And consider the many people living on this island who would rather know
nothing
that came before the Turn. Think about the grief.” She grabbed Nell's arm tightly. “Think about the horror in that history, Nell. And you're going to dig it all up? You're going to switch on all the dead and sick computers? Irresponsible, Nell. Some things are best left gone, best left switched off.” She released her grip and pointed to the kitchen door. “Ruby, go put the kettle on while I help Nell gather her things.”

Nan was matter-of-fact, no fuss, no nonsense, uprooting Nell's life without the bat of an eyelid. She was not a woman to be disobeyed.

Ruby flashed Nell a look that signaled both “I'm sorry!” and “I'm out!” all at once and disappeared into the kitchen.

As Nan went to ascend the creaky stairs, Nell raised her hand to stop her. The word
irresponsibl
e thrummed through her body, and a courage overcame her, a
terrible clarity. Nell peeled the Medi-Patch off her arm and folded it over itself, then placed it into one of her pockets. She was done.

“Io?” she called. “Could you please come downstairs?”

The tall robot, all dressed in his finery, peered around her bedroom door, then walked to the top of the stairs. Nell beckoned him forward. He cocked his head to the side. “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure, thank you. I have someone for you to meet,” Nell chirped, hoping to disguise her searing nerves with brazen cheek. Io descended without a moment of hesitation. Nell looked to her horrified grandmother, who had begun to back away quite slowly, her immaculate composure flickering.

Io said, “You must be Nan Starling. I am Io. I am very pleased to meet you.”

Nell noticed that Nan quietly produced from her pocket a small chain of crystals and began to run them through her fingers. Empowered by this tiny ritual, she stopped retreating and planted her feet firmly. When was the last time Nan had seen something—someone like Io? Never. She'd have been born just after the machines fell. He was an effigy from history books and cautionary tales out in the Pasture. His very existence was blasphemy, his head
full of scrolling code, his life artificial and cold. The old woman kept the crystals in her hand and said, “Penelope, what have you done?”

“Oh, it's quite all right, Nan,” Nell said, clasping her hands together to stop them from shaking. “Io is very kind. He carried me all the way from the old motorway when my chest broke down. He's been caring for me during my recovery since Da is extremely preoccupied in his laboratory. Io has been nothing but a gentleman,” she said, more than a little for show, more than a little in spite.

“Thank you, Nell,” Io said. He placed a hand on Nell's shoulder and squeezed it. He looked to Nan then. “Can we offer you a cup of tea?”

Nan just blinked silently, but Io was unperturbed. “Is that labradorite in your hands? It's considered an excellent healing stone, and that obsidian is most definitely useful in warding off danger.” Nell felt a smile almost surface; Io's calm was the perfect counterpoint to Nan's repulsion.

Nan took a deep breath. “Yes, yes, that is correct.” Her voice was still steady and sharp. “Ruby is in the kitchen; she will have the tea prepared.”

“Io knows lots of things, Nan,” Nell started, thinking that maybe if she behaved as though she were still under the influence, she might get a little leeway.
“He's been making all the meals in the house. They're always perfect!”

“If I could connect to the Internet, I'd have access to more,” Io chirped as they entered the kitchen. Over her shoulder Nell was sure she heard Nan gasp at the word
Internet
: heresy. Even the thought of it went against everything she had built her whole life in the Pasture around.

Nell supposed she should respect that or at least acknowledge the power and value that faith had to the healed. But of course they believed in a god out there. The jagged silhouette of the big smoky town didn't even stain their horizon. They didn't live in the city barely yet on its feet. Everything around them was beautiful. That's what she'd loved about the world out there. How selfish a thing, but how true. What need had they for computers, for answers about the past, for androids? Prayers were enough for them. But that wasn't enough for Nell.

The laboratory door swung open so suddenly it crashed against the adjacent wall, and the whole house moved from the assault. Julian materialized, stepping casually into the kitchen as though he hadn't nearly shook all the cups and saucers off the shelves. Ruby fussed about, tidying away her impromptu tailor's suite and preparing for a swift exit. She was leagues out of her depth in this production.

Julian was a crow in a lab coat, gaunt, dark, hair wild. He didn't even look at his daughter. He took off his gloves to shake Nan's hand. “Nikita.”

“Six hours on the motorway, Julian,” Nan replied icily. “I didn't expect a procession , but this isn't exactly a welcome. You didn't tell Nell anything.”

Nell shot Ruby a glance; the true awfulness of being present for a conversation about herself was only heightened by the embarrassment of its happening in front of Ruby.

“I only had her brought back around a few days ago. I was going to tell her when she was back on her feet. I didn't expect you so soon.”

Julian was petulant, his arms crossed. Nell had never seen him like this before, making excuses, being scolded. He looked very young.

Nan was restored to all her former poise. “I told you I'd be here on the afternoon of the twentieth.”

Julian uncrossed his arms, then crossed them again. “I was busy.”

Without a moment to humor his petulance, Nan matter-of-factly stated, “I'll be leaving with her this evening, so you'd best help pack her things given that she's barely walking on her own. I'm surprised you left her to the android rather than provide adequate physical rehabilitation,
Dr.
Crane.”

Nell's head swam. They were serious. Nan had intended to just swoop in, slap her father's wrist for his neglect, tuck her into the white car, and whisk her away from her life, out of this house.

“Are you going somewhere?” Io asked, beginning to sit down, alarm in his voice. Nell shook her head.

“As it happens,” Julian interjected, only looking to Io for a moment before returning his glare to Nan, “Nell isn't going anywhere, Nikita.”

“What do you mean?” Nan snapped. “You agreed to this weeks ago, Julian; you've had plenty of time.”

“Look, the new technology in her chest is an incredible example of the advances I've made. She'll need to be displayed to the council as a further contribution. I can't have her out in the middle of nowhere when I need her for work.” Julian was attempting to stay calm, but his voice was erratic. He didn't want Nan here. Ruby looked as if she wanted to fall through the earth. Nell felt her eyes unfocus, rage a climbing pyre inside her.
Displayed. Contribution.
She felt it boil up to her throat in a scream but contained herself as her father kept talking.

“And as for the robot, I've been studying it closely since the incident. Nell's not prepared for the impact it could have on her: these computers are programmed to be such good mimics that they can manipulate us into
experiencing all kinds of feelings. Nell's too naive for it, I can't risk her getting notions about herself; she's more valuable as a contribution than Io in the long run. I'll be taking the sentience strip and resetting it and putting it to better use.”

As Julian spoke, Io reached out his hand and took Nell's as she trembled with fury. Her father hadn't been designing a friend for Io; he'd been constructing a replacement of his own design. Not only this, but outlining how to present his daughter to the council.

Nell his contribution. His greatest invention. More grandeur for him, more proof of his excellence. It rang even now in Nell's chest: a victory bell. She wished she could undo the seams of her scar and take every inch of what her father had put in her out again, a bloody exorcism of steel.

But Nell kept her nerve. This was not the time to burn down the house, to rise up into a righteous storm. That had never gotten her anywhere. She'd get past him just how he got past her, again and again: closed doors and distractions.

“Can I please have a moment alone with Ruby, to see her off, say good-bye? Before we—we, get into this?” Nell had no idea how she managed to measure her voice—her resolve more steel than in her chest.

Nan and Julian exchanged a look. “Yes,” and “Of
course,” they replied, and Ruby looked as if someone had just turned the key to release her from a room with a falling ceiling.

“Thank you!” she burst, making for the door. Io and Nell followed, her chiming a flaming cathedral all the while.

T
he three of them stood in the hallway again, a huddle, as though amid the debris and aftermath of their runway, their parade.

Nell took Ruby's hand and squeezed it to release some of her frustration. “I just can't
believe
them,” she whispered bitterly.

“You look like you're about to scream,” Ruby said, and Nell clenched her teeth.

“There's time for screaming plenty later.”

“Nell, Julian still has all your papers; you should go get them while you still can.” Ruby pointed to the lab door, still open. Perfect.

Nell nodded. “I'm going in there, and I'm not coming out until I have something to fight him with.”

“Are you sure you want me to leave?” Ruby asked quietly then. “Are you sure you'll be safe?”

Safe. Maybe Nell had never been safe in the Crane house.

“I don't feel right leaving you. Can I come? Even just as an outside eye to make sure nothing . . . bad happens?”

If there was one thing the Cranes and Starlings valued, it was saving face. It was kept secrets. Asking Ruby to stay was not weakness; it was defiance.

“Yes. Stay,” Nell said softly. Ruby lifted Nell's hand and kissed her palm.

She led Ruby and Io down the hallway. Adrenaline coursed through her; she almost shook with it. Her plan crackled together: Get into the lab; lock the door; find her blueprints for Io. Find a way to reason with both her father and Nan.

The rain-flecked air breathed through the doorframe, and the laboratory door responded like a valve squeaking on its old hinges, swinging back and forth.

The three heaped into the lab, and Nell slid home the locks, sealing the world behind them very softly, so the bolts didn't make a sound. A fastened door bought her all the time she needed.

She'd destroy all her plans if she had to, rinse out the ink, tear apart the paper of them. She'd write them anew and make sure he never got his hands on them. To think, he'd given her all her education. Even the
thinking core of Io had been a gift from him. Nell's stomach twisted at the thought. She could never have done this without him. To make Io, she'd stolen, taken her father's work, taken advantage of Oliver. Did that make her as bad as her father? A specter of doubt touched her: Was anything she had truly her own?

But Nell had turned Io from arms and legs and a ladder and a kettle into this, into a friend. Nell had discovered that he could wake up and read computers from the past, discovered that he was a key. Nell had been brave enough. That belonged to her. It had to.

“Ruby, will you keep an ear out at the door, please? Warn me if you hear them coming?”

Ruby gave her a salute and posted herself by the door, her ear pressed to the crack between worlds. “I can't hear anything; they must be still arguing in the kitchen.”

“Good, good.” Nell sat down at her father's desk, placed herself at the helm of his empire of blueprints, some stolen, some his own. The desk was a mess.

“Nell, what is happening? What are we going to do?” Io sounded almost fearful, and it just about broke Nell's heart. None of this was his fault, but he stood at the center of it still.

“I don't know,” Nell replied, steeling herself. “All I
can do is make sure he doesn't take you.”

“But . . . your grandmother wants to take
you
,” Io replied, his voice glitching ever so slightly.

Nell took a deep breath. “Even if she does, we'll find a way to keep you safe. But know I don't plan on going anywhere.”

She riffled through the papers on Julian's desk, keenly looking out for any mark of her own pen. Nothing looked right: all reams of equation, all reams of numbers and symbols. Walls of her father's even, tiny print. Then the anomaly she was looking for: in the disarray of loose-leaf, a notebook, wide open. Scattered over the blossom of pages was what looked like her own writing, her tall consonants and loops.

She fished it out of the mess puzzled. It was an unwieldy thing, a thick leather binder, a cover marred with old stickers. Nell had never seen it before. Why would Julian take the trouble to put her notes in here? She looked closer; her chiming sang higher from the shock of the certainty that came over her as she read. The voice that echoed out from the pages was the soft tones of a paper ghost.

Cora just wouldn't leave this house. Here she was, in Nell's arms again.