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n3m3sis43If you're reading Cliffton for the first time, here are the previous chapters so you can catch up:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
"We need a new source of income," Devin grumbles into his SynthBrew. "Fucking expenses have gone way up."
I glare pointedly across the breakfast table at my new housemate. My life is so unfair. I can shoot lasers from my eyes and yet I'm not allowed to use them on him. Not that Devin's even really done anything to deserve being lasered, but I can't stand his pretty face or his smug smile or the way he never does anything useful.
In the two weeks I've been living here, I've never seen Devin do anything resembling work. He did help Kalen build me a new body, and I suppose I should feel grateful for that. I didn't enjoy looking like a terrifying insect. Except that's all he's done besides sit around and play SimFighting while Wes does all the cooking and the housework. The pretty ones are all the same - expecting someone else to take care of things while they lie about and bark orders. Just like Morgan.
"Have you considered getting a job?" I practically spit.
"Maybe you should get a fucking job." Devin slams his mug down on the table and glowers at me. "You're the one not paying rent. Wes and I were doing just fucking fine here on our own. With the amount of food that one consumes - " He turns his glare on Brendan, who winces and looks away. "Grocery bill's more than double what it used to be."
"Robots can't get jobs," I snarl, "and just how, pray tell, did you pay for this house before we moved in?"
"None of your fucking business." Devin turns red and pushes his chair back. He's probably going to storm off like the entitled little man-child he is. They really are all the same, aren't they?
"Anyone want more SynthBrew?" Wes chirps all too brightly, appearing out of nowhere with the steaming pot in his hand. "Oh, and I'm making bacon! And eggs! You guys hungry?" His grin's almost as irritating as his nauseatingly cheery tone.
"Robots don't eat." I glare at Wes, wishing I could laser him too.
Wes looks hurt, but then his forehead creases as if he's deep in thought. I wait for the inevitable stream of pointless babble to spew forth from his lips. Instead, his eyes grow wide and he practically leaps across the room to Devin's side. The pot of SynthBrew in his hand sloshes perilously.
"Don't worry, dude." Wes refills Devin's cup and gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I know how we can get some more money. Leave it all up to me!" Breakfast apparently forgotten, Wes puts the pot down and runs from the room without another word.
"Hey!" Kalen calls after him. "I wanted bacon and eggs."
"So did I," Brendan says sadly.
What in the name of the gallivanting ghost could Wes be planning? Something tells me the ridiculous fool's no better equipped to earn an honest living than I am to flap my arms and fly. But you know what? I'm not going to bother worrying about it. Because as Devin's so eloquently pointed out, the finances here are none of my fucking business.
"I'm home!" our esteemed provider shouts, flinging open the door with startling enthusiasm. "Anyone miss me?"
Not only have I not missed him, I'm wondering if there's a way to make him leave again. All I've done today is sit on the couch while Kalen and Devin play game after game of SimFighting. Actually, that's not entirely true. For about ten minutes, I sat on the couch while Kalen and Devin argued about what toppings to order on their pizza. It's been incredibly boring, but it's also been infinitely preferable to most of the days I've spent in this house so far. A day without Wes is like a day without... well, without noise.
I'm not pleased to see him - and what's worse, he's not alone. A boy of about my age follows Wes inside and shuts the door behind him. Just what I was hoping for. Even more company.
"Fucking magnificent," Devin grumbles. "Like this house isn't crowded enough already."
For once, he and I are in agreement, and that makes me feel a little dirty.
"Aw, Devin, don't be like that." Wes puts his arm around his roommate and squeezes him so hard he yelps.
"Who's your friend, and how soon will he be leaving?" I ask Wes. "Can he take you with him? Preferably permanently?"
"Not just a friend," Wes announces proudly. "Everyone meet Zack Tyler, our new hostage."
For a moment, I'm too busy marveling at the way my insults don't even permeate Wes's thick skull for his actual words to register. When they do, my metal jaw drops. "A... what?" I think my brain might explode. "How did you manage to capture a hostage? Why are you on a first-name basis with him? What are we supposed to do with him?"
"I didn't capture him!" Wes has a goofy grin plastered all over his face. "Zack's my little brother's friend from back home. He agreed to be our hostage. See, Devin? I told you I could take care of our money problems."
"What kind of person agrees to be a hostage?" Devin eyes Zack suspiciously. "Do you get off on this shit?"
"You're just mad because he's prettier than you are," I snicker.
"No, he's - " Devin stammers. "Uh, I mean... don't call me pretty."
"Excuse me?" Wes is still grinning like the fool he is. "There must be something wrong with your robot eyes, because Devin's by far the prettiest one here. He's my pretty, pretty princess."
Something tells me it's better not to point it out, but Devin's also blushing.
"Uh, Wes?" Devin regains his composure and raises an eyebrow. "The whole point of your plan's to get money, right? How're we gonna do that if our hostage is just some random guy you know?"
"Devin, dude?" Wes looks shocked. "Did you live in a cave before we moved here? Zack's not 'some random kid'. He's Zack Tyler. His parents are right up there with mine, y'know."
Devin blinks at Wes, and I can practically see the gigantic question mark floating above his head.
"Yeah, dude." Zack adds helpfully. "Both our fathers are pretty well-known back home - Bing Jansen and Rich Tyler? Most people have heard of them. They're the two biggest names in surveillance equipment."
Even I've heard of them, and I grew up on a piddly little farm. I'm not sure if their names are known on this side of the fence, but even Kalen has the sense to do a double-take at the implications of Zack's revelation. For a moment, the room is dead silent. I'm incapable of words.
"You - " Devin's deathly pale, and he's staring at Wes like he's just stepped off some sort of alien spacecraft. "Your family owns Jansen Technologies? They're fucking government spies?"
"Y- Yeah, dude." Wes squeaks out, his face scarlet. "You really didn't know? I'm sure I must've told you at some point. Besides, I'm kinda... " Wes trails off for a moment and blushes even harder. "I'm kinda used to people recognizing me back home. And where'd you think I got all our surveillance equipment? It's not like that stuff grows on trees, y'know. And also? They're scientists, not spies." There's a hard edge to his voice and a hurt look in his enormous eyes.
Well, this is certainly awkward, but as much as I'm enjoying watching their little lovers' spat, we've got more pressing concerns. Like the fact that Wes could get us all thrown in prison and probably worse.
"Please tell me you're joking." I snarl. "You've got a houseful of fugitives and wanted terrorists, and it never once occurred to you to mention you come from a long line of security barons?"
"No, why would it?" Wes looks completely mystified. "It's not like they'd spy on me or anything." He shoots Devin another wounded look and then turns to Zack. "C'mon, dude, let's go check out that new glideboard park." They're both out the door before I can ask any more questions.
"Hi, CallaBot!" Wes bounces into the living room, Zack in tow. "We're gonna go play MegaFighter! Wanna come?"
I snort and make my eyes glow menacingly. Of course I don't want to come.
"I guess not, huh? Too bad, because it's this awesome virtual reality fighting game and we're gonna have the best time! Do robots play fighting games? You never play SimFighting with us. You, should, you know. I bet you'd love it and you should really get out more and - " There's more, but I tune it out and wait for him to leave.
Zack's paying enough attention for both of us, his cheeks pink and face wreathed in a goofy grin. He grabs Wes by the arm and pulls. "C'mon, let's go, dude. This is gonna be amazing. Bye, CallaBot!" The door slams behind them, and I'm alone again.
Oh, sweet solitude. It lasts all of an hour before Devin destroys it.
"Seen Wes?" His tone's offhand as he flops down beside me on the couch, draping his legs across it casually. I narrow my eyes, disgusted by his long, lean body and his perfect, self-assured face. The pretty ones are always the same.
"He and Zack went out." I shrug.
"Should've apologized," Devin mumbles. "Think he's still mad I called his parents spies." He shifts uncomfortably and pulls his legs up beneath him, biting his lip as he stares at the ceiling.
Not so smug now, is he? A nasty little thrill shoots through me. Except I almost feel bad for that, because Morgan never would've apologized. Why'd he ever need to, when everything I offered him was his due to begin with? And leaving the house without permission? An agreeable partner'd never do that, and he wouldn't stand for it.
Wes isn't a woman, but Devin's not Morgan, either.
"He doesn't seem the type to hold a grudge." It's the closest to comfort I'm going to offer. "I'm sure if you say you're sorry, everything will be - " Except I guess Devin's done talking about this, because he cuts me off.
"It'll be fucking fine. Me and Wes - " Devin picks at the threadbare knee of his jeans. "We're best friends. Even if his parents are fucking... scientists. Just don't know about this Zack kid. Something not fucking right about him."
"Oh, Princess," I snicker. "You're just mad he's taking up all your boyfriend's time."
"That's not - Don't call me - " Devin sputters. "I... Wes isn't my fucking boyfriend."
"Whatever, Princess." This is better than Robot Scrabble. "Give me one good reason you don't like Zack."
"Stop fucking calling me Princess!"
"I'm waiting..." I tap my toe for emphasis, and it makes a satisfying thunk against the welterwood floor.
"He, um..." Devin looks almost panicked. "He used my deep conditioner without fucking asking. Do you know how hard it is to find that shit? Don't have it in any fucking stores here. Have to order it on the Splinternet. Takes fucking weeks to be delivered."
"Oh, well I can definitely see how that's a huge issue." I roll my eyes.
"...And he squeezes the toothpaste from the middle of the tube!" Devin's face is flushed, his pale brown eyes glittering feverishly. "Fucking left a wet towel on the bathroom floor. Right behind the fucking door, couldn't fucking open it all the way. And... and... he put my tools away wrong." Devin grabs my arm and yanks on it like an over-excited child. "Look, I'll show you."
It's either laser him or let him lead me down the hall, and I don't have anything better to do anyway.
Devin pulls a small device from his pocket and points it at the ceiling. A flight of stairs materializes and he practically pushes me up it. "Have this fucking system, see?" He gestures wildly. "Organized by type, then size and color. How hard is it not to screw that up? It's simple. Fucking intuitive. Green, pointy things are over here - "
The sound of feet stampeding up the wooden stairs beneath us saves me from any further explanation.
"We're home!" Wes yells. "Anyone miss us?"
Devin looks up from his tools, a half-smile on his face.
"Hey, dude! How's it going?" Zack smiles broadly at Devin and throws his arm loosely around Wes's shoulders. "Can I borrow your tools again? My glideboard's been acting funny."
"Oh, fuck no." Devin growls, jamming his hands into his pockets and clenching his jaw. "Aren't your parents ever gonna pay your ransom? Too many people in this fucking house. No respect for my personal property at all."
Personal property? As if Wes belongs to him. I'm going to give Devin the benefit of the doubt, just this once, and assume he's only talking about his tools. Besides, he's got a perfectly valid question.
"Why haven't we heard from Zack's parents yet?" I wonder aloud. "It's been a week already."
"Maybe they don't want him back," Devin grumbles. "Can fucking see why."
Zack's too busy ogling Wes to notice the jab, and Wes's too focused on Devin to notice that. He steps away neatly from Zack, crossing the room to wrap his arms gently around his roommate from behind. "You okay, dude?"
"I'm fine." Devin blushes and wriggles out of Wes's grasp. "Just been kinda... bored without you around."
"I hate to interrupt this little lovefest." I smile as all three boys jump. Forgot I was here, did they? "But we've got more important concerns at the moment. Why haven't Zack's parents tried to get him back? Wes, what exactly did you say in the ransom note?"
Now it's Zack's turn to flush bright red. He shuffles his feet awkwardly, his eyes on the floor.
"You." I fix my laser eyes on Zack, and he flinches under my gaze. "Pretty boy."
"Wh - what'd I do now?" Devin demands. "And don't call me - "
"Not you, Princess." I snort. "The other one. Zack, you're as red as a three-tailed lobster. I've got younger brothers, and I know when a boy's been up to something. Tell me what it is now, and I won't have to hurt you."
"I - well, see..." Zack's nearly purple as he fumbles for words. "I just - it's so dull back home and I wanted to get away for a while. Thought it'd be fun to go somewhere and have no one recognize me. Like a vacation. So when Wes wasn't looking, I kinda... I took the ransom note so they wouldn't be able to find me."
"Little shit's been messing up my things all week for nothing?" Devin glares at Zack.
This seems like as good a time as any to make my exit. Without a word to any of them, I climb down the stairs, snickering as I go. Something tells me Devin can handle this situation just fine on his own. And as he'd say, it's none of my fucking business.
Four in the morning, and all's silent. No SimFighting, no arguing, no assorted racket of a house full of boys. It's glorious.
Imagine my surprise when the front door creaks open and Devin tiptoes inside. He's so busy trying to be stealthy he doesn't even notice I'm there. It amazes me how often that sort of thing happens. I'm a six foot tall metal woman. You'd think people would notice me, right? The reality is, if I keep my mouth shut, I can fade into the background pretty easily.
It's a useful talent in a houseful of people with no idea how to keep their own mouths shut.
I think about letting Devin make it to his room without ever knowing I've seen him. That lasts about a nanosecond, because messing with him is really my only source of entertainment. Robots don't eat, sleep, hug - don't do most things humans get to enjoy. It would be unfair to deny myself this one tiny pleasure, wouldn't it?
He's almost in the hall by the time I speak. "And just where have you been?"
Devin jumps about a foot in the air and screams like a little girl. He's so twitchy, I almost feel bad for scaring him like that. Oh, who am I kidding? "Wh- what are you doing up?" he stammers as he turns to face me.
"Robots don't sleep."
"Oh. Yeah." Devin backs away from me slowly. "Well, um, I sleep, so..."
"Not so fast." I step forward and stare him down. "You didn't answer my question. Where were you?"
"I don't have to tell you anything!" Devin glares at me. "Anyway, it's late and I'm tired - "
"You're right," I step quickly into the hallway, blocking it. "You don't have to tell me anything. Guess I'll just make up a story of my own. Hmmm, better yet... Wes knows you pretty well, right? Maybe he could help me figure it out."
"No! Please don't tell him - " Devin's horrified expression is priceless. "I mean... it's just that Wes and I don't - we don't talk about our, um, personal business. I'm a private fucking person, okay?"
"Of course you are, Princess." I give him a reassuring nod. "And what exactly is it I'm not supposed to tell Wes?"
"Nothing!" Devin doesn't even protest the nickname. "I was just... I went to see a friend, okay?"
"A friend." I make my eyes glow as I stare him down. "Until four in the morning."
"I fell asleep!" Devin protests, his voice soaring into the upper octaves. "We were, um, playing SimFighting, and I got sleepy. You're, um... you're not gonna say anything, right?"
"I don't understand." My voice drips innocence as I casually step out of his way. "Why would Wes care who you - " I pause, my metallic hands making air quotes. "Why would he care who you 'play SimFighting' with, anyway?"
"Yeah, um, exactly. G'night!" Devin mutters as he dashes off toward his room.
I watch him go, shaking my head. Too easy, really.
It's only an hour later when the front door flies open and Wes whispers, "I'm home. Anyone miss me?"
Since I haven't missed him at all, I hold my tongue. Maybe he'll think I've turned myself off for the night, even though I don't really do that. If I'm really fortunate, he won't notice me at all.
No such luck. Wes looks straight at me and asks, "CallaBot? You awake?" When I don't answer, he even goes so far as to knock on my arm. Eventually, he gives up, muttering, "Must've turned herself off," as he heads off down the hall.
"Devin!" I hear Wes shout joyfully a moment later. "What're you doing up?"
"W- Wes?" Devin stammers. "N- not doing anything. Couldn't fucking sleep."
I snort, even though there's no one in the room to hear me. Very convincing, Devin.
"H- hey," Devin's speaking in hushed tones, but I can still hear every word thanks to my enhanced robotic hearing. "Kinda early even for you, Wes. You're wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday. Where'd you go?"
"Oh, I just went to drop Zack back off at home." Wes isn't even bothering to keep his voice down. "I figured there was no point in keeping him here since we were never gonna get any ransom without a note. He's never crossed the fence on his own and I didn't want him to be scared. Then I was gonna spend the night at his place, but I missed you too much so I came home instead. And now here I am!"
"You shouldn't be crossing the fence alone either," Devin grumbles. "Gonna get yourself fucking killed."
"Don't worry, Devin." Wes's voice is so cheerful, I'm sure it would give me a headache if I were capable of having one. "I go over the fence all the time, and I'm always fine. Nothing bad's gonna happen to me."
"Better fucking not." Even with my robotic ears, I can barely hear Devin now. "It'd fucking kill me, too."
Never mind the fact that Wes's lack of concern for his own safety could get us all killed. And what about Wes's continued jaunts to visit people back home whose business is spying? Shouldn't Devin be worried about those things, too? He's the one who set up the security system on the house, after all. Does anyone here have a shred of common sense?
(Next chapter is here)
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Re: some more thoughts
Date: 2013-03-20 02:57 am (UTC)This is also true of my other characters and their relationships, but that's the relationship that's changed the most so far on this rewrite.
Even though I don't think I'm as good at it as you, I've also been enjoying the exercise of looking at your novel and offering thoughts and questions. Like you said, it's reminding me to think more critically (in a useful way) about my own book as well. :D
Re: some more thoughts
Date: 2013-03-20 03:48 am (UTC)I've actually wrote a ton the last two days and didn't even really realize it. All I was doing was editing chapters and writing things from Colby's POV and next thing I know I've written almost 5000 words since yesterday.
I put up the new and improved revised chapter 1 where I changed the entire last scene. Then there's a completely new, unread chapter 2 from Colby's POV. And even that was changed from my original version.
I've completely reworked chapter 3 using elements of several different chapters (essentially combining the key elements into one chapter with a lot of new content), wrote a new chapter 4 from Colby's POV and reworked a scene from my original chapter 4 into a completely new chapter.
I was going to start chapter 5 (from Colby's POV so it's all new) but instead I went back and started editing chapter 3. I've gone over it like 3 times now, including reading it out loud (which I highly recommend--I found so many spots that just didn't read well audibly...now I have to go back and do the other chapters like that). I'm still finding things I want to change about it, though. Totally not satisfied.
This back and forth has been working pretty good for me. Last night I totally reworked chapter 1, then wrote chapter 2. Then went back and edited chapter 1, then looked over chapter 2 then started to write a little of chapter 3 then went back and really edited chapter 1 and then 2, lol. It was like leapfrog or something. Up a step, back two steps, up two steps, back one. But I got a lot of work done.
Re: some more thoughts
Date: 2013-03-20 10:01 am (UTC)Re: some more thoughts
Date: 2013-03-20 05:04 pm (UTC)I might put chapter 3 up because I'm having trouble with it and maybe you could see where it doesn't flow. I made a freaking ton of notes but they are too general like, "this is choppy," "this doesn't feel right." Stuff like that but my brain doesn't want to look at the details of it. I probably need to ignore it for a few days and go back later but it's bugging the crap out of me for some reason.
Re: some more thoughts
Date: 2013-03-20 05:16 pm (UTC)If you want to put it where I can see it, let me know. :D
Re: some more thoughts
Date: 2013-03-20 05:23 pm (UTC)I'm like afraid to look at it because I know I don't like it.
For all I know everyone else that reads it will think it sounds fine but it doesn't to me and that just bugs me, you know. Maybe if I put it up then I'll be able to focus my attention on something else (like editing chapter 4 or writing chapter 6).