“All right, Hart. Lead the way.”
Chapter Five
They started down the hall. Nyssa stopped to open the curtains, allowing Hart to see through the mirrors and accompany her. Each mirror lit up in turn as he “jumped” into it.
“Can you see through all them all at once?” she asked.
“No. I have to focus my visual systems through a single station. I can hop between them in a micro-second, though. Most have an audio-port as well, but not all. If we’re going to stay in constant contact, it would be best to grab my remote access module. It’s hand-held.”
She ran her hand across the nearest mirror, raising a poof of dust. “Where is it?”
“It emits a signal, but it seems to be out of range. Not anywhere on the first floor. There’s a smoking room on the second floor. That would be a good place to look. The Creator often takes it there so we can play chess. Do you play chess?”
“Never learned.” Nyssa shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“Just making conversation. I’ve spent a lot of time in isolation. Computers don’t really sleep, so even powered down, our brains kind of go in circles, thinking. A nice conversation will do me good. Get some of those thoughts out.”
“Let’s complete our mission. Then I’ll let you talk my ears off.”
“That sounds painful. Hey! My humor program is still online.” He chuckled through the nearest mirror.
“You might want to perform another diagnostic. I think it’s malfunctioning.”
Hart jumped from mirror to mirror. “The circuitry connecting the first and second floor is in a panel under the back stair case. If it is another restrictor, we should be able to remove it.”
“We should? Because you did so much work last time.” She sniffed.
“I told you what to do, didn’t I?”
Nyssa rubbed her arms. Hart’s tone was unnervingly human. She knew Dalhart’s technology was advanced, but to create an artificial being so real … she couldn’t even imagine the complexity of the machines behind Hart. “I have to admit, I’m glad to have someone to talk to. The silence of this place is eerie.”
“I don’t remember it being like this. It was so full of life before. Now it feels dead and empty.” His musical tone turned to a minor key. “I need to get my memory files back.”
“It can’t be too far.” She tried not to jump every time her own reflection flashed in the corner of her eye. The disembodied voice rambling in her ear didn’t lessen the spookiness of her predicament. “So how are you powered? Most of the other systems didn't have juice.”
“I'm hooked into the house's backup boilers. They're in the basement, completely automated. The Creator liked to be self-sufficient, but it was more efficient to use the city's power for the simple systems, like lights and heating.”
“That must've gotten cut off when no one paid the bills. That can happen even to reclusive millionaires, I suppose.”
Light leached in through a tall window at the opposite end of the hall. Dust specks danced in lazy spirals.
“When I was little I used to think they were fairies,” she whispered.
“What?”
Nyssa cleared her throat. “Nothing. Are we almost to the stairs?”
“Should be through that door there, on the left.”
She approached the narrow door. Gray paint flaked off the wood. A three digit combination lock sat under the knob, coated in dust. “Do you know the combination?”
“314. The Creator liked pie.”
Nyssa winced. “Yeah, your humor program needs a little work.” She turned the dials, listening for a click. The door released from its latches and creaked open.
A narrow stair rose into darkness. The wooden steps slouched in the center, giving the whole staircase a tired, lopsided appearance. She hazarded one foot and half her weight onto the first step. It groaned but held. Flipping on her x-ray setting, she scanned for the circuitry panel. There. Under the first step. She knelt and pried at the edges. It eased away.
“Do you ever take those goggles off?” Hart’s voice echoed in her ears.
Her jaw clenched. Conversation was all right when nothing else was going on, but unwelcome when there was work to be done. “No, I had them surgically attached.”
“What color eyes do you have?”
She raised her eyebrows and glanced back at the flickering mirror. “Really?”
“Just wondering.”
She shook her head and returned to the circuitry. Finding the bundle of blue and silver wires she traced it to where a restrictor held it in a death grip. “They aren’t anything special, sort of a hazely-brown.”
“All eyes are special. They’re the window to the soul, you know.”
“What does a computer know about souls?” Nyssa snorted. She took out the pulser and switched it to the frequency she’d used before. The restrictor snapped open like a sprung spring. “There, can you get into the upstairs computers now?”
“Yes. There aren’t any communication stations in this stairway, though. I’ll have to meet you at the top.”
A pang of unease cut through Nyssa’s chest. She opened her mouth to say a farewell, but the light flickered out of the mirror. She drew a deep breath. You’re being silly, afraid to walk up a staircase alone. What’s the worst that could happen?
Switching her goggles back to night vision, she took the first step. The creaking of the old boards echoed in the narrow passage. Tempted to take the stairs at a run, she forced her pace steady. Only about ten steps to the next door. No need to hurry.
An amorphous shape—some bits sticking out, others cluttered together—rested near the top. She squinted at it. A metallic cylinder, about two feet long, lay in a pile of cogs, wheels, and rods. A metal sphere with two bulbous glass eyes sat on the step above it, staring unblinking at Nyssa.
“Another robot. Ugly one too.” She stepped over it onto the step with the head. The board vibrated beneath her
