Sounds Like a Plan (Cliffton book 1, chapter 8)

[n3m3sis43]

Concrit much appreciated. This is chapter 8 of Cliffton book 1, now edited and hopefully beta-ready. If you are looking for the older version for comparison purposes, it is here No warnings. At some point in the book, there will be warnings.

If you're reading Cliffton for the first time, here are the previous chapters so you can catch up:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7



"Wake up, Princess." I'm not entirely used to my robotic voice yet, but I do love the way it carries in a quiet room.

Devin's not nearly as impressed by my vocal talents as I am. All he does is groan slightly and pull the covers over his head. Clearly, he's going to be tougher to wake up than Wes was. Of course he is.

I look around the room, contemplating my next move. It's strangely spare, nothing like Wes's or my brothers' back home. Devin's got no posters on his walls, no desk covered with models, no cast-off clothes or dirty boots to trip over - nothing at all besides a bed and a lamp on a little table. It's unnatural and a little unnerving. A boy's room ought to be messy, a pit of clutter that never comes clean no matter how many times his ma hollers at him to tidy up.

If I still had a heart, it'd break at the thought of my ma and my tidy room where I'll never sleep again. Not that I sleep anymore anyway, and there's really no point in dwelling on the past when I've got a job to do.

My electronic body's got so many features that'll make the task at hand a breeze. Which one to use first? The possibilities are endless. Only yesterday, I realized I can make a disturbingly loud screeching noise if I turn on "Voice Amplification Mode" and whistle at the same time. Who knew this information would come in handy so soon?

"Not that one, Wes," Devin mumbles sleepily after the noise dies away. "Too fucking big."

Apparently, Devin's a heavy sleeper. Good thing I brought this air horn.

"I TOLD YOU THAT ROCKET LAUNCHER'S TOO FUCKING BIG FOR THIS ROOM!" Devin sits bolt upright, blinks, and rubs at his face with a confused expression.

I don't bother waiting for him to collect himself. As far as I can tell, that's going to take a few hours anyway. There's no time like the present, so I grab him by the arm and yank him out of bed. "Get dressed," I order. "NOW."

Devin just sways on his feet and blinks at me some more. "But... shower?"

"Nope." I shake my head. "No time."

"Need sleep..." He struggles weakly, trying to break my grasp.

"You've had plenty of sleep." I tell him. "Now it's time to get up. I've got an important errand for you."

"Where's Wes?" Devin narrows his eyes at me suspiciously.

"You'll see." I guide him swiftly over to the door of his closet. "Same place you're going as soon as you GET DRESSED."

"Too early," Devin whines.

I sigh. His ma obviously didn't raise him right. My ma wouldn't have put up with this sort of nonsense.

This is pointless. I let go of Devin's arm and stomp exasperatedly into the closet alone. If I want him out of here any time soon, I'm obviously going to have to do everything myself. Devin keeps his closet as compulsively neat as his room, but I'm not interested in admiring his organizational scheme right now. I grab the first shirt and pair of pants I see and emerge to find him curled up in bed again. He looks so peaceful, I almost hate to disturb him.

Oh, wait - no, I don't. Bringing the air horn was definitely a good idea.

* * * * *
If my metal face were capable of smiling, I'd grin like a fool at the memory of shoving Wes and Devin out the front door, Devin mumbling a pathetic "No SynthBrew?" as I slammed it behind them. Instead, I stretch out on the couch and appreciate a morning free of Wes's squeaky voice. It's wonderful, but I can't focus on it for long. There's business to attend to. I march down the hall to Kalen's room and knocks on the door.

"We've got to talk," I tell Kalen when he opens it.

"About what?" He's fully dressed and seems awake enough. So much the better.

"Why don't we talk about it over a nice hot meal?" I'm agreeable enough to know you always fill a man's belly if you want him to cooperate. That's why I had Wes cook up Kalen's favorite breakfast before he left. "We've got the whole upstairs to ourselves."

"What about Wes and Devin?" Kalen looks oddly hesitant, as if I've given him any reason not to trust me.

"Oh, they'll be gone a while." I laugh as I head for the kitchen. "I sent them out to find that ID-10T chip you needed."

"Um, CallaBot? I don't even know what an ID-10T chip is," Kalen protests as he follows me.

"Of course you don't, because it doesn't exist!" I snicker. "Too bad the Simple Twins don't know that." I should feel remorseful for sending them on a fool's errand, right? Except they are fools, so I'm really just helping them fulfill their destinies.

Kalen laughs out loud as he slides into a chair. "So, what'd you want to talk about?"

"Breakfast first," I remind him, wandering into the kitchen to retrieve the cheesy hash brown casserole Wes insists is Kalen's breakfast of choice. It looks greasy enough to lubricate my robotic joints, but I hold my tongue. It's awfully disagreeable to comment on others' cooking.

Kalen tucks into his food, a contented smile spreading across his face. It's the first time in weeks I've seen him without a slack-jawed, half-dazed look about him. Wes may be supremely foolish, but apparently he knows his way around the kitchen.

"You never told me what happened after the explosion." Now's as good a time as any to ask, while he still looks happy. "Why didn't you meet me at the tree like we planned? I thought you were dead."

"I panicked." His smile fades like the sun before a summer storm, guilt etched into his handsome features. "I - my mind just went blank, and I started running. I didn't even know where I was going until I ended up here - didn't think at all, just headed for the first place I knew I'd be safe." He traces his finger over the lines of the wooden table top, his cheeks a dusky rose. "You were right all along, CallaBot. I'm not rebellion material, and this whole plan was a mistake. I'm so sorry."

Kalen's clearly ashamed of what he's done, so why do I only feel contempt for him now?

"By the time I went back for you," he continues, still intent on the patterns in the wood grain before him, "there were troops everywhere. There was no way I could make it to the hideout without backup. I thought maybe Wes and Devin would have contacts who could fight, being insurgents and all. They said they didn't know anyone like that, though, so I had no choice but to lay low here until I could build some robot reinforcements."

"Are you serious, Kalen? Wes and Devin couldn't fight their way out of a paper bag. How in the whispering willows could you have ever thought those two were insurgents?"

"I... they..." Kalen's blushing harder than ever now. Even he knows he's ridiculous. "I've known Devin since I was in ninth year, okay? He was very... passionate about the War being pointless and cruel. And he knows how to build bombs and things. I just... I don't know, I just kind of assumed. On this side of the fence, everyone who questions the War's an insurgent."

I suppose I can't entirely fault him for that. On my side of the fence, a woman who won't take one of the boring approved professions or perform wifely duties is practically an insurgent. Besides, from the dejected look on his face, Kalen's punished himself enough already. What's important now's that we all move forward.

"So, where do we go from here?" I ask him.

"Where can we go?" Kalen looks up at me, fear and confusion plain in his big blue eyes. "I mean, I get it - I screwed up. The bomb never should have exploded, and I never should have brought us here after. I'm pretty sure Devin's still mad at me for that, too, but we don't really have anywhere else to go, do we? We're fugitives now."

It's hard to identify what I'm feeling. There's probably a loose wire somewhere inside me, or else part of me didn't make it into my neural whatsis when I turned into a robot. All I've felt since then's mostly anger, and maybe that's all I can feel now. Except right now, I'm sorry for Kalen. He's so sad and lost, not one bit like the boy I first met back in the tree when summer began.

"I meant the question a little less literally." No matter how gently I try to speak, my voice always has that metallic edge. I can't even smile to soften the words. "What are we going to do now? We thought we had a chance to stop the War and we risked everything to try. Who's to say we shouldn't keep trying? We're marked as terrorists now anyway."

"You... you still think we can stop the War?" Kalen breathes.

I haven't the slightest clue, but what else are we supposed to do? We can hardly lead normal lives now.

"What matters most is what you think," I say. "They all think you're the leader, you know."

"The leader?" Kalen stares miserably at the table. "That's like calling Wes and Devin insurgents, isn't it? You don't understand, CallaBot. My whole life, I've molded myself into whatever people wanted me to be. I was good at it, too - an exemplary student, a shining example of the perfect young man. People worshiped me, and it was all a lie. And then - " His voice cracks. "And then the one time I tried to do something I believed in... well, you see how well that worked out."

"You have to try." I reach for Kalen's hand across the table and give it what I hope's a light squeeze. From the way he flinches, I'm guessing it's more forceful than I meant it to be. "Wes and Devin trust you, and right now we need them. We don't have anywhere else to go, and besides, they're not entirely useless. They've got technical skills, and they found you the parts to build a bomb. But they need a leader. They need you."

"What if I don't want to be a leader?" Kalen whines in a way that'd grate on my nerves if I had any. "I'm tired of pretending to be something I'm not."

Well, I didn't want to be a robot, and I didn't want to be forced to rely on two buffoons I barely know for shelter. And shining stars above, they didn't want to be involved in any of this. Besides, what about Brendan? I'm sure he didn't want to be banned for life from the military he always dreamed of joining.

"I don't think it's about what you want anymore, Kalen." This time, I make no attempt to soften the brittle edge in my voice. It's a good thing I'm not in my bug body anymore, because that one fired lasers when I narrowed my eyes.

It'd probably be bad if I accidentally killed Kalen, regardless of how much I might want to right now.

* * * * *
How many hours are we going to sit at this table before I finally snap and laser Kalen?

Our conversation's not going anywhere. I've tried to talk strategy, but I don't think Kalen's interested. He only stares at the table in front of him, barely saying a word. What's happened to all his passion? Where's the charming smile and the twinkle in his eye that convinced me to follow him into this whole ridiculous mess in the first place?

"Why don't we focus on the present for now," I say. Maybe the future's too much for Kalen to deal with at the moment. "If we're going to accomplish anything, we've got to learn to work as a team first. We've got to address our... personnel issues."

"What issues?" Kalen squints at me like I'm some sort of logic puzzle. "Everyone seems okay to me."

I slap my metal forehead with a loud clang. He can't be serious.

Our team's practically nothing but issues. We've got Brendan, who doesn't leave the basement except for meals. Wes, who's naive enough to trust his parents to spy on everyone except him. Devin, who doesn't trust anyone but overlooks the gaping Wes-shaped hole in his "fucking epic" security system.

It's almost a relief when the front door crashes open. "We're home, anyone miss us?" Wes hollers.

"Well, it certainly took you two long enough," I snort. "Let me guess - you got lost?"

"Didn't get fucking lost, okay?" Devin appears beside Wes, hair in disarray and a massive burlap sack in his hands. "Wes talked to all our Splinternet contacts. We looked fucking everywhere. Couldn't find a fucking thing about an ID-10T chip. Sure that thing even fucking exists?" He meets my eyes with a knowing smirk as he dumps the contents of the bag on the table.

"What's all this?" Kalen lets out a loud snicker, apparently oblivious to the fact the Simple Twins are onto my little ruse. He's already digging through his ill-gotten bounty, chuckling to himself as he does.

"Brought back one of everything," Devin explains. "Wouldn't want you to be without your fucking crucial robot parts. Funny, though - didn't even know you were working on any robots."

"I'm always - " Kalen barely manages to stifle a laugh. "I'm always working on robots."

"Fucking fabulous. Being an errand boy's only one of the many services I provide." Devin's actually grinning now. "Don't even have to worry about paying me back. You can just take care of all the cleaning for the next month."

Kalen furrows his brow, but he doesn't argue. Apparently, even he's got more sense than that.

"Hey! I almost forgot!" Wes squeaks, breaking the silence. "While we were out, Devin and I came up with a plan for an intelligence mission. Since Kalen's a terrorist, that makes us all terrorists now, right?"

"Yeah." Devin's eyes light up. "Wes found something on the Splinternet. Top-secret weapons demonstration of all the latest and fucking greatest technology. Stuff that can't be found anywhere yet. We could - we could, um - " He's so excited he's talking nearly as fast as Wes, tripping over his own words. "We could fucking infiltrate it. It'd be fucking epic!"

I've got serious doubts about trusting these two anywhere near a government event. Still, they're both showing far more initiative than our supposed leader, who's still engrossed in his new toys and clearly hasn't heard a word. Meanwhile, both Wes and Devin are watching Kalen, waiting for his approval. I'd dearly love to laser him just a little, but instead I kick him hard under the table.

"Ow!" Kalen yells, finally looking up. "What?"

"Never mind, Fearless Leader." I snort. "Wes and Devin want to plan an intelligence mission. Since you can't seem to pay attention, I'll help them with the details, and I'll go with them to make sure they stay out of trouble. Got any problems with that?"

"No problem," Kalen mutters, staring at the chips before him again. "Sounds like a plan."

It looks like we've got one more personnel issue to address - Kalen, the leader who can't be bothered to lead.


(Next chapter is here)

Comments

Re: scene 1

[n3m3sis43.livejournal.com]

Oh, and I just looked. Apparently, I have a conversation in the chapter after this where I vaguely address how they make ends meet. Very vaguely. As in, it's tough and Devin doesn't want to talk about it. I wonder if this conversation needs to be moved earlier in the book? Or if there needs to be more detail than that (Devin really doesn't want to talk about it)?