The Mad Scientist’s Daughter by Cassandra Rose Clarke

Author:Cassandra Rose Clarke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Saga Press

ELEVEN

Cat followed Miguel through a dark, narrow corridor, past a law office, the glowing sign in its window missing a handful of letters, and a noisy banh mi place. They were in an old storefront near the center of the city. The floor was dusty from disuse and the storm tape in the windows hadn’t been taken down since the last hurricane. Cat hadn’t seen storm tape since she was a child—most buildings came equipped with automatic shutters these days.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Cat kicked a pile of broken glass with the toe of her shoe.

Miguel turned toward her. “I come out here twice a month, Mad Scientist’s Daughter.”

Cat smiled; she hadn’t heard the nickname in years. Miguel grinned, then whirled on his heel and followed the corridor until it dead-ended into a pair of double doors, a handwritten sign reading AUTOMATON DEFENSE LEAGUE propped up against the wall.

Miguel held the door for Cat. She smoothed the skirt of her dress; she smoothed the loose pieces of her hair. She hadn’t wanted to come to the meeting at all, but Miguel had insisted, telling her that her donations were a tremendous help to the group, that everyone wanted to meet her. Cat thought back to that party a month ago, the Noratech wife knowing she had given money to an organization working against everything Richard had worked for. Sometimes Cat wondered if Richard knew. She wasn’t sure that she cared.

There were about fifteen people at the meeting, sitting in folding chairs and eating from the potluck dishes spread out on a table near the door, and five robots of varying degrees of complexity. None of them as complex as Finn.

Everyone, even the robots, turned to look at Cat and Miguel standing in the doorway. Cat felt herself curling up like a morning glory in the heat of the afternoon. Then a man near the front of the room raised a hand in greeting, and Miguel called out a cheerful, “Hey, everybody!” and there was a murmur in return and then all the faces turned away. Cat let out a long, slow breath. It was harder and harder for her to be looked at these days. All that time spent under glass.

One of the robots, an android, male-identified, filled a paper cup with punch and brought it to her. His movements were fluid, graceful, but his skin had a glossy plastic sheen to it and his eyes possessed the flatness of computer monitors. Cat accepted the punch. It was too sweet, like syrup, like medicine.

“Welcome.” The android’s voice reverberated with electronic feedback.

Cat nodded. “Thanks.” She looked down at the surface of the punch, swirled it in its cup.

“Would you like some information about the organization?” the android asked. He smiled at her, rows of too-small perfect teeth. Cat shook her head.

“I already donate.”

“Oh! Are you . . .” For a second his eyes went blank, like a turned-off screen, and then he blinked. “Caterina Feversham?”

Cat nodded, feeling suddenly shy.

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