In the Lives of Puppets, page 17
The Old Ones hadn’t moved. They stood like silent monoliths. They weren’t dead; Nurse Ratched said they still had power. Vic straightened his helmet as he looked at the others. “Which one?”
Nurse Ratched pointed toward an Old One in the distance that had come to rest along the northern edge of the Scrap Yards. “That one.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“No.”
They made their way between the heaps of discarded metal. Predatory birds circled overhead, every now and then one of them diving toward a scurrying rodent. The Scrap Yards were otherwise silent. Vic’s head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.
They stopped a short distance away from the Old One. Vic had been up close to them before, but only by accident and usually it involved running and Rambo screaming. The machine was massive, creaking as it settled. The crane cast a terrifying shadow that stretched long across the ground as if reaching for them. Vic’s nerves prickled.
“We’re sure it’s sleeping?” Rambo asked nervously, peeking around the heap they had taken refuge behind.
“It is,” Nurse Ratched said. “Though it would not be a surprise if it was pretending.”
“One of us needs to make sure,” Rambo said. “Not it.”
“Not it,” Nurse Ratched said.
Vic shook his head. “We can just—”
Hap grunted as he lifted a metal grate off the ground. Before Vic could stop him, Hap curled it against his chest before flinging his arm out in a flat arc. The grate spun, whistling as it cut through the air. It crashed into the side of the Old One with a jarring shriek, sparks flying and hissing when they hit the ground.
Vic’s eyes bulged. “What the hell are you doing?” he snapped.
“Making sure,” Hap said, brow furrowed. “Rambo said h-he was not it. Nurse Ratched s-said the same. I d-decided to be it so you wouldn’t have t-to.”
“You can’t just—”
“I like you,” Rambo said, nudging against Hap’s ankle. “You can be it all the time if you want.”
“I agree,” Nurse Ratched said.
They waited.
The Old One didn’t move.
“See?” Hap said, and he sounded almost smug. Vic nearly wished he’d never thought to give him a heart. He was learning far too quickly. “Made s-sure.”
Tugging at the straps of his own pack, Vic said, “Fine. Whatever. Nurse Ratched. What’s next?”
An image of the Old One in front of them appeared on her screen. It spun to the rear and enhanced. A green square blinked over a panel on the back. “Here,” she said. “The port I need is located here.”
“And you’re sure about this?”
The Old One on her screen disappeared, replaced by the words IF AT FIRST YOU DON’T SUCCEED, RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN. “I am sure.”
They moved in a single-file line, giving the Old One a wide berth as they circled around it. No one spoke as they moved closer, their footsteps hushed.
“Can you pry it off?” Vic asked, looking up at the large panel Nurse Ratched had shown on her screen.
“Not from here,” she said. “My arms cannot reach it.”
“I’m i-it,” Hap said, and Vic turned in time to see him drop his pack on the ground. He crouched low before leaping, his fingers punching through the metal of the Old One where he landed. He reached for the panel and ripped it off, flinging it away, leaving the guts of the machine partially exposed. He dropped back down, dust billowing around him.
He turned to find the others staring at him. “Wh-what?”
“I want to be you when I grow up,” Rambo said. Then, “Wait, that doesn’t make sense. Vic, does that make sense?”
“I have no idea,” Vic said faintly. He shook his head. “Nurse Ratched still can’t reach. We need to find something she can stand—”
“Oh my,” Nurse Ratched said as Hap lifted her up and over his head. “I do declare. This one knows how to handle a lady. I take back every mean thing I have ever said about you.”
Hap turned slowly, hands gripping Nurse Ratched’s treads. He took a step back toward the Old One. “C-can you reach?”
“Yes,” she said, tentacles extending from her. “Do not look at my undercarriage.”
“Hurry u-up,” Hap growled. “You’re h-h-heavy.”
“Rude,” she said. “I am going to be mean to you again. You have pointless stubble. There is no need for you to have it. It does nothing aside from being aesthetically pleasing.” One of her tentacles slithered up the side of the Old One. It moved through the wiring. “Almost. Almost. Where is it? It should be—ah. There it is. I have found the port.”
Hap grunted, arms trembling.
“Connecting,” Nurse Ratched said as her tentacle darted forward like a snake. “Five. Four. Three. I do not need to count down. I am just trying to make it more dramatic because I can. Two. One. Liftoff.”
The tip of her tentacle slid into the port with an audible click.
Nothing happened.
“Oh,” she said. “Sorry. Wrong one.” Her tentacle pulled back out before locking in place again. “Bypassing firewall to operating system. Bypassing. Bypassing. There. That is . . .” She fell silent.
“Nurse Ratched?” Vic asked. “Are you—”
An alarm began to blare from deep within the Old One. Vic took a stumbling step back as Rambo screeched.
“No, you don’t,” Nurse Ratched said, twisting her tentacle. The alarm died off. “That was my bad. I wanted to see what would happen if I triggered the security system. That was fun. Are you having fun?”
“Would you hurry up?” Vic said through gritted teeth.
“Yes, yes,” she said. “Hold your horses. These are more complex than I first thought. I do not know why, given they are nothing but bigger versions of Rambo.”
“I’m complex,” Rambo grumbled. “Vic, right? I’m complex?”
“Yeah,” Vic said, distracted, as he looked up at Nurse Ratched. Her screen filled, though he couldn’t see what it showed, given that she faced away from him. All he could see was the light reflecting off the Old One.
“There,” she said. “Done. I have what I need.” Her tentacle popped free of the port.
Hap lowered her to the ground before stepping back. He winced as he flexed his wooden hand.
Nurse Ratched turned around.
And there, on her screen, was a map.
“I followed the signal,” she said as a line shot across the map. It stretched farther and farther as the scale of the map increased. Vic’s heart sank as the distance continued to grow. He didn’t know what he’d expected. Part of him had hoped that the city was no more than a couple of days away, though he knew Dad wouldn’t have built a home so close, not after escaping like he did.
Finally, the line stopped, the end pulsing with circles that spread like ripples on the surface of a pond. They all crowded around Nurse Ratched, staring at her screen. Rambo rose on his lift once more, trying to push Hap out of the way so he could see.
“What is it?” Vic asked.
“The receiver,” Nurse Ratched said. “The signal is routed through multiple points, but this is where it ends. This is the City of Electric Dreams.”
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. “How sure are you?”
“Very.”
“How far away is it?”
She was silent for a moment. Then, “As the crow flies, approximately seven hundred miles southeast. There appear to be maintained roads which I suggest we follow, though they are still quite a distance away. If we do follow the roads, it will add mileage and time. All in all, we are looking at a few weeks at the very least. Longer if we run into trouble along the way.”
“Weeks,” Vic whispered. “Weeks.” He took a step back, startling when he bumped into Hap. He recoiled. Hap reached out to steady him, but Vic shook his head. “Don’t. Please.” Vic turned away and sat down heavily, wincing at a piece of metal digging into his thigh. He wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them against his chest and laying his forehead against them, repeating the word “weeks” over and over.
He’d understood in some vague way that the world outside of the forest was much larger than he knew. But it felt too big and he was too small.
“Vic?” Rambo whispered.
Vic didn’t raise his head. He tightened his grip on his legs, fingers digging into his skin hard enough to bruise.
“It’s okay, Vic,” Rambo said, bumping against his foot. “I promise. I know it seems hard, but we have to be brave. Your brain is telling you that you can’t, but you don’t always have to listen to it. Sometimes, it tells you white lies. I know it does to me. It says, ‘No, no, you aren’t brave.’ ‘No, you’re scared of everything.’ ‘No, you won’t make it because you’ll die a horribly painful death where your entire body will be crushed and all your innards will fall out.’”
“You paint very vivid word pictures,” Nurse Ratched said. “Perhaps you should not do that.”
“But it’s true,” Rambo said vehemently.
Hap crouched next to Vic, his hands dangling between his legs. He scowled down at the ground. “I c-could carry you.” He sounded as if he’d rather do anything but. “If your l-legs don’t work.”
Vic shook his head as he wiped his eyes. “No. I don’t need you to carry me.”
“Good,” Hap said. “Then g-get up and stop being w-weak. You’re not w-weak. You’re V-victor Lawson. Inventor. Creator.”
“He’s not being weak,” Rambo said. “He’s recovering.”
“There is a difference,” Nurse Ratched said. “You do not know Victor like we do, Hap. These things take time.”
“Oh,” Hap said. He looked off into the forest then back at Vic. “How a-about now?”
Vic stared at him a moment before nodding. He pushed himself up off the ground. Hap handed him his pack before picking up his own.
“All right?” Nurse Ratched asked.
Vic nodded. “I think so.”
“Good. Because we will soon see if the forest is filled with ugly beasties who want to eat us all. I hope that is not the case. I do not wish to be eaten.”
“Hap will protect us,” Rambo said. “He’s got big hands and can punch the ugly beasties so hard that they won’t think about eating us because they’ll be too scared. Right, Hap?”
“R-right,” Hap said. He held up his hands. “I w-will punch them.”
“See?” Rambo said. “We’ll be fine. In fact, I bet this will be easier than we think it will.”
Nurse Ratched’s screen filled with the words ONWARD AND UPWARD!
Vic looked at the three of them before turning east. The sun was rising, the light weak behind thin clouds. His breath streamed from his mouth. He said, “Onward and upward.”
CHAPTER 14
They kept a good pace, as most adventurers do in the first few days. They had a destination, a goal, and it allowed Victor to keep the worst of the hopelessness at bay. It didn’t hurt (or help; Victor wasn’t quite sure) that Rambo decided that everyone needed to sing. And since the only songs he knew were from Top Hat, it wasn’t long before Hap looked as if he wanted to throw Rambo as far as he could.
“You need to conserve your energy,” Nurse Ratched told the vacuum. “Victor has the portable charger for you, but the more you talk, the quicker your battery will run down. If you are powerless, we will be forced to leave you behind.”
“What about your battery?”
“Mine is bigger than yours.”
That shut Rambo up for a good five minutes before he started humming once more.
At the beginning, Vic asked Nurse Ratched to pull up her map to show their progress. He didn’t really understand the concept of distance. His entire life had been built around a few square miles, and it was disheartening to see how slowly the miles melted away. By midafternoon on the first day, he stopped asking.
The forest continued on as they descended down a long slope. Every now and then, they had to course correct when the trees became too thick for Rambo and Nurse Ratched to move through. Hap offered to tear down the trees in their path, much to Rambo’s delight. But Vic didn’t know what else was in the forest, if the ugly beasties Nurse Ratched had spoken of would hear them.
They stopped the first night as the ground below them began to even out. Vic thought the air was a tad warmer than it’d been up in the Scrap Yards, but he didn’t know if it was only because he was sweating. His back already hurt, the pack digging into his shoulders, the metal on his arms and legs and chest like lead weights. He groaned when they came to a clearing of sorts, next to a creek where the water chuckled as it flowed over rocks. He cupped his hands in the cold water, lifting it to his lips. It burned cold as it slid down his throat.
“Are we sleeping here?” Rambo asked. “It’s getting awfully dark.” His sensors flashed, illuminating the trunks of the trees around the clearing.
“Just for tonight,” Nurse Ratched said. “I have scanned the perimeter. I do not think there is anything here that will eat us.”
“My feet hurt,” Rambo said.
“You do not have feet.”
“Oh. Well, if I did, they would hurt.” He began to move back and forth across the clearing, sucking up dead leaves and picking up fallen branches and dumping them into the woods.
Vic looked over when Hap appeared next to him, holding his pack. “You n-need to recharge.”
“I will.”
Hap shoved the pack at him, almost causing Vic to fall over. “Eat. I w-will watch to make s-sure you do.”
“You don’t have to—”
But Hap wasn’t moving. He stood there, staring down at Vic. Vic sighed and took his pack from Hap. True to his word, Hap watched him eat, apparently not satisfied until Vic chewed on dried meat until he swallowed. “Happy?”
Hap frowned. “I d-don’t know.”
Vic was far too tired for this. He was about to tell Hap to leave him alone when he heard Rambo squeal as a wave of hot air rolled over him. He jerked his head back to see a small plume of fire rising from a pile of wood. Nurse Ratched pulled her tentacle back from the flames. “There,” she said. “Now it is cozy. You are all extraordinarily welcome.”
The second day wasn’t much different than the first aside from the trees beginning to thin out. Victor was settling into the routine of movement. His muscles burned, and the pack was heavy, but he pushed on.
A creek that had appeared and then disappeared earlier in the day had swung back into their path and grown larger as night approached. They stopped next to it. Vic’s skin was itchy with sweat and grime. His nose wrinkled when he sniffed himself. He told Nurse Ratched that he was going to wash off in the water a bit farther down. He took off the helmet he wore and dropped it on the ground.
“Why c-can’t you just d-do it here?” Hap asked, pointing at the water right next to where they’d stopped.
“Privacy,” Nurse Ratched said. “Victor wants to remove all his clothing so he can clean himself. He does not want us to see his genitals.”
“L-like when he evacuates his b-bowels.”
“Yes. Precisely. He will most likely do that as well.”
Hap nodded. “I w-will go too.”
Vic blanched. “No. Stay here.”
Hap stared at him. “Nurse Ratched s-said there are ugly b-beasties. Your genitals w-will be exposed, and you w-will be vulnerable. I will p-protect you so that you may clean yourself and evacuate your b-bowels.”
“I don’t need you to protect me,” Vic snapped. “I can take care of myself.”
“Tell him you won’t look,” Rambo whispered to Hap.
“I w-won’t look,” Hap said promptly.
Vic threw up his hands. “That’s not—” He huffed out a breath. “Fine. But you don’t talk when I’m . . .” He didn’t know what else to say. He stomped off farther down the river.
Vic didn’t look back as Hap trailed after him. He muttered all manner of threats under his breath, not caring if he was heard. Once he thought he was far enough, he stopped, crouching down next to the water. It was freezing. He’d have to make it quick.
He heard Hap behind him as he made short work of the vest and metal attachments on his arms and legs. He set them aside before unzipping his coat and dropping it on the ground. He hesitated, fingers gripping the hem of his shirt. He looked back.
Hap was a few feet away, staring right at him.
“Turn around.”
Hap did, back ramrod straight.
Vic waited a moment to make sure he wouldn’t turn back. He didn’t. He lifted his shirt up and over his head. His skin pebbled with gooseflesh immediately. He wasn’t looking forward to this.
He paused at his pants, considering. He shook his head before leaving them on, along with his boots. He fell to his knees next to the river, scooping up water and rubbing it against his armpits, his chest, his stomach. He breathed in sharp, quick breaths, teeth already chattering. He was about to dunk his head when Hap said, “I d-don’t w-want to r-remember.”
Vic shivered, but he didn’t think it was all because of the cold. “What?”
“I d-don’t want to remember,” Hap said again, only more forcefully. “I am Hap. Not HARP. I a-apologize if you think I am g-going to kill you. I’m n-not.” His words were stiff and disjointed as if he’d never spoken them in that order before. He was learning.
Vic sat back on his legs. “I don’t think that. If you wanted to hurt us, hurt me, you already could have. But you haven’t.”
Hap nodded without looking back. “Exactly. Gio s-said I c-could be good. He said I was HARP, b-but I could choose to be H-hap. He didn’t have to l-let me stay.”
“Hap,” Vic said slowly. “Do you . . .” He didn’t know how to finish. He never questioned his father’s capacity for love, for caring about things both great and small. Looking back, Vic could see how naïve it was, how he took it at face value and never questioned it.
“D-do I what?” Hap asked.
He said, “Dad . . . he trusted you. You’re not the same as him, not really, but you’re not that different, either. I know that it doesn’t seem like much, but it is. Thanks, I guess. For making the choice you did. You didn’t have to.”
