“This time, don't open the valve.”
M-03's lips closed.
The brass fingers gripping Aaron's sleeve remained where they were. They were weaker than a human's, but the determination not to let go was almost unnervingly clear.
Ria's steam gun was aimed at the automaton's forehead.
“Let go of him.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“I thought you were good at repairing machines.”
“I've never learned how to negotiate with a broken machine.”
Aaron studied M-03's face.
The blue light inside its glass eyes flickered irregularly. The pulse of the power core had also quickened slightly from before.
But there was no resonating plate in its mouth to produce a voice.
No vocal cords, no phonograph cylinder, no memory module to read stored sentences aloud.
A machine that couldn't speak had called his name.
In the exact same voice he'd heard inside the compression engine.
“Are you Johan Lemmer?”
Aaron asked.
Ria's gun barrel shifted slightly.
M-03 didn't answer.
Aaron lowered his voice.
“If you understand me, let go.”
One brass finger came loose.
Then a second.
When the last finger dropped away, it left a black smear of oil on Aaron's sleeve.
“You understand me.”
“That makes this worse.”
Ria didn't lower her gun.
M-03's head slowly turned. Its glass eyes passed over the muzzle and stopped on Ria's face.
“Ria.”
It was a man's voice again.
Ria's index finger pulled the trigger.
Aaron slapped the barrel to the side.
With a burst of compressed steam, the bullet struck the wall. Small metal fragments flew, and the smell of gunpowder spread through the hidden workshop.
Ria turned to Aaron.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“You were about to shoot the only evidence that can talk.”
“That isn't evidence. It's a contaminated device.”
“It could be both.”
“And if it is, that's even more dangerous.”
Ria aimed the gun again.
This time, Aaron stepped in front of M-03.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
He was protecting an automaton of unknown origin. A contract worker whose name had already appeared on an incident report on his first day had just interfered with an armed Senior Researcher.
Apparently, he had a talent for collecting reasons to get fired.
“Move.”
“We need to verify what it is before you shoot.”
“It just called you by name. In the voice of someone who died three years ago.”
“That means we need to verify it.”
Ria's eyes went cold.
“You're wondering how it knows your name.”
“Do you know?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Aaron didn't believe her.
Ria seemed to realize that he didn't believe her, too. The muzzle dipped ever so slightly.
“More precisely, I can't explain it.”
“Then tell me what you do know.”
“Are you giving me orders?”
“I'm not brave enough to order someone holding a gun.”
“And yet you slapped the barrel?”
“My hand moved first.”
Ria's gaze dropped to his bandaged hand.
“With that hand?”
“Which is why it hurts even more now.”
Only then did Ria lower the gun.
She didn't holster it completely.
Aaron turned back toward M-03.
“Are you Johan Lemmer?”
The automaton didn't answer.
“If you aren't, shake your head.”
It didn't move.
“If you are, nod.”
There was still no response.
Ria said, “It may not understand the question. It might only be reacting to specific words.”
“Aaron.”
M-03 spoke again.
This time, it wasn't a man's voice.
It was a young girl's voice.
The end was slightly cracked, like it was coming from an old phonograph, but it was unmistakably a different voice.
“So now it has a voice device.”
“It didn't just acquire one.”
Ria examined the automaton's neck.
“That was originally M-03's guidance voice.”
“Does it remember?”
Ria's hand stopped.
“Because I heard it before I removed it.”
M-03 tilted its head slightly.
“Beginning new visitor registration.”
As it spoke, the blue light in its eyes stabilized.
“Please state your name.”
Aaron looked at Ria.
“It knew that until just now.”
“It doesn't seem able to retain the same memory continuously.”
“Aaron Vale.”
He answered.
A small gear turned inside M-03's chest.
“Registered visitor.”
Aaron narrowed his eyes.
“You're saying I'm registered here?”
“Date of registration.”
M-03's voice cut out for a moment.
The blue light in its chest pulsed sharply.
“Year 317 of the Royal Calendar, twelfth day of winter.”
Ria took a step back.
Aaron turned the date over in his mind.
This year was 326 of the Royal Calendar.
Nine years ago.
Aaron had been eighteen then. Before entering the Northern Industrial School, he hadn't even been to Velcarium.
“That's an incorrect record.”
Ria said it firmly.
“I never came to this institute nine years ago.”
M-03 looked at Aaron.
“Purpose of visit.”
“None.”
“Accompanied by a guardian.”
Aaron's throat tightened.
“Who did I come with?”
The automaton's head gave a short tremor.
Inside, a gear tried and failed to mesh, then snapped back with a click.
“Guardian information deleted.”
“Who deleted it?”
“Deletion approver.”
The blue light flickered unsteadily.
“Ria Moren.”
The hidden workshop fell silent.
Aaron turned to Ria.
There was no surprise on her face.
Instead, she looked like someone who had spent a long time avoiding something, only to have it finally find her.
“You're going to have to explain.”
“That record is wrong.”
“Did it get both my name and yours wrong?”
“When memory contamination occurs, separate records can become mixed together.”
“How do you know that?”
Ria didn't answer.
Aaron took a step toward her.
“Is this because of the experiment three years ago?”
“Lower your voice.”
“There are only two of us here, and a machine that can't speak.”
M-03 raised its head.
“I can speak.”
Aaron fell silent for a moment.
So did Ria.
That was not the point worth correcting in this situation.
“Fine. There are only three of us.”
“There may not be three.”
Ria looked toward the entrance to the hidden workshop.
A faint metallic sound came from the hallway.
Someone was opening the steel door to the disposal warehouse.
Aaron recognized the sound, too.
The short hiss of a pressure lock engaging.
Ria turned off the gas lamp.
The room went dark.
Only the pulsing blue light in M-03's chest remained.
“We need to turn off that light,” Aaron said.
“If we pull the power core, we might not be able to turn it back on.”
“If they catch us, we won't get another chance to turn it on.”
Ria hesitated, then opened M-03's chest plate.
Instead of a standard power core, a blue crystal about two finger joints long was embedded inside.
Aether ore.
But the refining process was strange.
Thin golden lines spread across the crystal's surface like veins.
Ria's hand stopped in front of the crystal.
“This isn't a power core.”
“Then what is it?”
“A memory anchor core.”
It was a term Aaron had never heard before.
Footsteps drew closer.
There were at least two people.
“This is the safety inspection team.”
A man's voice came from the warehouse.
“Moren, are you in there?”
Ria clenched her teeth.
“They're here already.”
“Was this team scheduled?”
“I issued the inspection order. I never called a team.”
Instead of pulling out the memory anchor core, she pressed a thin tube beside the chest plate.
The blue light disappeared.
M-03's body went limp.
“Can you carry it?”
“I was diagnosed with an order not to use my hand.”
“That makes three times I've heard that today.”
“And it looks like this will be the third time you've ignored it today.”
Aaron slid an arm beneath M-03's knees.
The automaton was heavier than it looked. The weight of its brass skeleton and armor plates pressed down on both arms.
His burned palm screamed immediately.
He gritted his teeth and lifted the automaton.
Ria opened a vent on the opposite wall of the workshop.
The space was just large enough for one person to crawl through.
“We're going out this way.”
“Where does it lead?”
“The old experimental section.”
“The one they said was closed?”
“Officially, it's a place that doesn't exist.”
Something scraped across the warehouse floor—a shelf being dragged.
They must have found the hidden passage.
“Moren.”
The man's voice came from just behind them.
“You'll be in trouble if you access unauthorized assets.”
Ria climbed into the vent.
Aaron shoved M-03 through and followed.
His knees and elbows banged against the narrow metal duct. Gaslight spilled in behind them.
“Stop!”
A steam gun fired.
The bullet struck the mouth of the vent.
The metallic clang reverberated through the entire duct.
Aaron crawled forward with M-03 clutched to his chest.
Ria kicked out the grate ahead of them.
The three of them tumbled into a dark room.
Before Aaron could even get to his feet, the grate behind them slammed shut.
Ria broke the internal locking pin.
“They can't open it from that side now.”
Aaron laid M-03 on the floor.
“Senior Researcher.”
“Later.”
“About the record from nine years ago.”
“I said I'd tell you later.”
“Do you know how many times I've heard that today?”
Ria didn't answer.
In the darkness, she felt along the wall.
An old gas lamp flickered on.
As the light spread, it revealed the nature of the room.
Six small beds lined the walls.
All of them were child-sized.
A metal plaque was attached to the head of each bed.
Subject number.
Experiment date.
Survival status.
Aaron's gaze stopped at the third bed.
There was no name on the plaque.
Instead, it bore familiar writing.
A-07.
Year 317 of the Royal Calendar, twelfth day of winter.
Guardian information deleted.
And the final line.
Memory transfer suitability confirmed.
Aaron looked down at his identification badge.
Aaron Vale.
A-07.
There were too many matches in the numbers and date for it to be a simple coincidence.
A small mechanical sound came from behind him.
M-03, whose power had been shut off, opened its eyes.
Its glass eyes, devoid of blue light, faced Aaron.
A man's voice rumbled low in the darkness.
“I knew you'd come back.”