Advanced Clockwork: Young Writers Prize 2014

Chapter 6

As the darkness of the moonless night enveloped the world in it's velvet embrace, there was a void of sound in the darkness. There were no stars, not a pinprick of light of a shimmer in the sky, the sky so polluted that it was simply a blanket of thick green haze. The moon was as black as night as it's cycle grew to an end, it's guiding light missing from the rubble filled streets engulfed in the blanket of darkness. It was such a beautiful simplicity, yet it held a presence in it that pulled and plucked at the lost souls like seams, making them unravel with ease.

But she looked out at the world with open eyes, glowing in the darkness of her room with a soft amber light that illuminated the small space with ease, as Eve listened. With no need for sleep and the comforts of rest, she was left in the darkness of her room to sit on the bag of rags and rusted springs and listen to the symphony of the night. The soft footsteps of the poor passing by the shop across the stones, the sound of creatures in the desert that screamed and howled to be heard within the walls, the hum of lights below in the shop as they waited to be shut down for the night. It was the same every night, the same mix of noise, but when she closed her eyes she let them blend together so that it sounded like an orchestra of things no one cares for. The Music of Unimportants, as Eve liked to call it.

And tonight, there was one difference, the sound of thread and needle as she let her nimble hands flow and create her masterpiece of fabric and metal. But to her, it was just yet another trinket to keep her busy, another thing she was making for the soul reason of pleasing someone else. She sighed as she watched only to closed her eyes again, listening to the slightest sound of the needle sliding through the fabric, pulling it all together. Then she heard the loud creak of the staircase to the underground dirt basement, and a smile started across her lips.

'Here they come,' The automaton teen thought to herself, the second creak sounding as another person stepped on that one step. 'right on time.' And like the conductor waving his silly little baton in their direction, their voices wafted smoothly up through the cracks in the floorboard as the door closed. 'Oh, how predictable.'

"Gig, we really should talk about this." Samuel said in a hushed tone.

"No, Sammy, we don't." Gig deadpanned, shuffling around in one of the lower rooms near where the shop was. The storage room Eve would safely guessed.

"We are done with work, we organized everything, why should we not talk about this pressing matter?" Samuel shot back.

"Because it's not." The white haired woman said flatly, and Eve could just see her rolling her eyes at him like she was saying 'no duh'.

"Gig! She's an advanced mechanical prodigy with the mind of a seventeen year old genius! What's not pressing about that?" Samuel growled, his voice raising at her, his accent thickening drastically so his words were even harder to understand. Eve instantly knew the accent as Jamaican, though something told her that no one else called it that anymore.

"That she's OUR advanced mechanical prodigy with the mind of a seventeen year old genius!" Gig said, not even phased by his change in tone and voice pattern.

"Who has never had a friend in her life." A pang of hurt filled Eve's circuitry as she looked out the window at the moonless night.

"We are her friends." Gig sighed.

"Oh, like having Rebel Robin Hood and Little John are the best friends a girl can have." Eve smiled a little bit at the reference and shook her head.

"You have been hanging around her for too long, Samuel." Gig said sternly.

"Well, at least one of us has to be the one to show her what it's like to be more than a tool." He snapped back, making Gig gasp. Eve rolled her eyes, knowing this was going to end up like all the other times they fought.