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April 5, 2027
Alainn stood at the top of her hill, holding on to the bus stop sign for support. The cold metal bit into her hand as the wind slapped her face. From right where she was, if she stood just like this, she could see a sliver of Lorccan’s tower. Around the city, the sky was bruised with deep purples and reds as the sun rose.
She had been awake for three days, and her father had still refused to contact Lorccan. Alainn was a cup full of hope that had the smallest crack, leaking drip by drip away.
Her father had held to his guns for once in his life, refusing to give Alainn Lorccan’s contact information until she watched the recordings. The Internet had provided no results. Mr. Garbhan had an e-mail address, but she would have had no idea where to start or what to say in that format.
And Alainn wasn’t going to watch those recordings. She knew they’d only contain a bunch of lies.
She pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket, glancing over the ten different bus numbers on it.
The old, blue-and-white bus chugged up their hill. Red letters scrolled across the top of the windshield: Carnival Street/Red Line Crossover. The bus halted directly in front of her, the large advertisement on its side telling her to buy Juicy Snacks—her kids would love them.
When the door folded out, an automaton gazed down at her from where he sat, high above in the driver’s seat. An oncoming car shone headlights on him, even though it was already pretty light out. The robot-driver’s skin reflected the light with an unnatural sheen.
When Alainn hesitated, he asked, “Are you getting on, miss?”
She nodded stiffly and forced her fingers to release the pole. After she paid, Alainn turned to the empty bus. The driver began ascending the hill before she took a step.
The long, vacant cabin had one other occupant—a man sleeping curled up in a stall. The plastic of the trash bag he wore over a dirty sweatshirt crinkled as he clutched a backpack tighter to him.
Alainn walked on, finding a seat in the very back, where no one could sit behind her. The day passed in a blur of faces, people getting on and off. Music played too loud out of headphones. Phone conversations were yelled out or whispered about important nothings.
Automatons populated every street corner, darted around every open café, and disembarked from their long, glass-pod busses as fast as others took their place.
She climbed on and off busses as messages shifted over ad screens. Her fingers touched cold poles as she waited to get on, get off, sit, or just stand. Backs bent as people snacked on food hidden in their laps. Mingled smells reminded her that she hadn’t eaten at all that day, while simultaneously destroying her appetite.
It was well past noon when Alainn disembarked, five city blocks from Lorccan’s tower. The streets seemed foreign, cold, wrong. Trash littered the ground. Food wrappers skittered around sleeping bodies, caught in the artificial breeze from passing traffic. Several groups passed. The robots marched in uniforms, and the humans huddled in heavy jackets.
Alainn wrapped her arms around herself as long, shining office buildings towered over her. Lorccan’s tower loomed into view. Just as before, the building sucked up the light around it. It was a vortex, a vacuum, and she wanted back in.
She walked the length of the building to where the long access road waited. It was completely empty; no trash or debris had ventured so far in.
She tamed her breaths into an even rhythm as she approached the screen that guarded the entrance to Lorccan’s garage.
Alainn stood, halfway down the length of the screen, not ready.
“Please state your purpose.” Rosebud 03AF’s voice said as crisp, black letters scrolled across the screen.
“It’s me, Rosebud. Alainn Murphy.”
“Hello, Alainn Murphy. Why are you back?”
She swallowed. “I need to talk to Lorccan.”
“No.”
“What?” She blinked at the two crisp, black letters on the screen. “Rosebud, I need to—I need to talk to him. I’m going to come clean. It’s time to come clean with him and tell him what I did.”
“No.” The words blinked on the screen.
“Stop . . . stop it. You told me that you wanted me to save him. To save all of you.”
“You did save us. He’s better; you need to move on with your life now.”
“Don’t you think that he deserves to decide that for himself?” Her voice cracked.
Lorccan’s face appeared on the screen, an excited spark in his eyes.
“Lorccan,” she breathed, her hand going to the screen. “I’m . . . I’m . . . it’s me. Jade.”
“Shelly? So you can come?” he said.
“What?” Alainn asked.
A woman’s voice came on. It was a low, melodious voice. “Yeah, of course I’ll come, Lor.”
“Thank you,” he mouthed with so much joy in his eyes.
Alainn bit her lip, hard. That look in his face—it was pulling her insides apart. But she could not stop her hand from rising up and touching the smile on his lips.
“You’ll go through the decontamination? You’ll do that?” he asked.
“Yeah, anything,” Shelly said.
“I love you,” he said. “You are such a wonderful person.”
The words slammed into Alainn, each one a bullet punching into her chest.
The screen went white, soft white, like bone.
“He doesn’t scream at night anymore, Alainn.”
Tears stung her skin, raw and worn down from days of crying.
“You saved him. Don’t you want him to be happy now?” Rosebud said, shooting the final bullet, the one aimed straight for Alainn’s heart.
“Damn it,” she whispered. The answer was yes, but Alainn wanted him to be happy with her. “I think I should talk to him.”
“No. I’ll protect him, even from you. Go live your life. Find your own happiness somewhere else.” The screen went dark.
But Alainn didn’t leave like any self-respecting person would. She sat down next to the screen, folded her legs up, and cried.
The truth of it was, if Rosebud let her, Alainn would stay with Lorccan even if it hurt him—even if it hurt them both. Obviously, she was just that sort of wretched soul, wailing outside of his tower, forever shut out.
After all her tears were spent and had crusted on her cheeks, she stood and faced the screen. “Just—give Lorccan the chance to reject me himself, okay? That’s all I ask. If he tells me he wants Shelly instead, then fine. But, it’s not your choice to make, so you really should let him do it.”
The screen didn’t turn back on. Rosebud was done with Alainn.
Still, Alainn walked down to where the steel barrier closed off Lorccan’s garage. She tried to pry open the door, but it didn’t budge. With all her strength, she pushed the door and then even kicked it once, but nothing happened.
Closing her eyes, Alainn leaned back against the steel. Maybe if she waited long enough a delivery would arrive and she could slip in with it. Alainn immediately dismissed the idea—she would still have to get past Rosebud 03AF’s security system to get anywhere in the tower.
A siren blared out, growing louder and louder. A police car pulled in front of the entrance to the garage. Obviously, Rosebud wanted to add a little humiliation to Alainn’s broken heart.
A police automaton stepped out of the cruiser. “Ma’am, the owners of this building have complained about you being on their property. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“What if I don’t?” she asked, voice rasping.
“Then I’ll have to take you into custody.” His face was almost featureless, as if they’d tried to make him look like everyman but ended up making him look like nothing at all.
She pushed herself off the wall with her foot and sighed. “All right, I’m going.”
He waited inside his cruiser for her to walk down the access road before backing out. When she paused just beside the building, the automaton pulled up beside her. “Move along,” came over his loud speaker.
She nodded, then continued walking down the city street—and away from Lorccan.
Eyes skipped past her as she climbed back onto the bus though her cheeks were stiff from her hard cry.
The seats next to Alainn remained empty for most of the rides, even though there was more than one person standing. On about her fifth transfer and in the second hour of her trip, she pulled her phone from her purse. Scrolling through her contacts slowly, she pressed Greg’s name.
The phone rang five times, long, low dulcet tones. “Alainn?” he answered, sounding a little surprised.
“Hey,” she said while grasping onto the handle of the seat in front of her.
“It’s really loud wherever you are. Did you say something?”
She raised her voice a little, “Hey, Greg. It’s me. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Alainn. I can’t really hear you, though. I’ve been trying to reach you for months.”
Her voice rose even louder, “Hey, I was wondering if you would you let me finish the season?” A few people looked over, but so what if random people heard her? Right now, she couldn’t care less.
“Hell, Alainn, there’s only like two weeks left in the ski season. The snow’s already melting up here.” He sounded very much like he was saying no.
“Greg, I’ll come on as a volunteer if I have to. I’m sorry to do this to you—but I need to get out of here and be busy.” She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw.
She would not allow herself to cry on a public bus.
Greg stayed silent for a while. Her fingers squeezed the plastic handle tighter, waiting.
“I’ll . . . come get you, Alainn. I can do it tomorrow.”
“I’m not asking you to do that, Greg. Just let me work or do something—that’s all I ask. I can get a ride up there.” She shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her.
“Yeah, but I’m going to do it anyway. Can you be ready in the afternoon, around three or four?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be ready.”