General Art The Mechanical People
- Thread starter Doc
- Start date
Doc
BoDoc Horseman
- Joined
- Nov 24, 2012
- Gender
- Male
No worries. If you ask me, losing what I had before was a blessing. It gave me a bit more time to actually think of how I wanted this scene to go (there have been many, many drafts and ideas that I considered using to execute this). I think I finally wrote this to the best of my ability, although it still might not be too great.
Ch.3 (Pt 2)
The rest of us sat a moment longer. Not surprisingly, Neric was the first to stand up.
“Wan. Bau. Come. It is time for a certain discussion,” he said coldly. Wan immediately stood, but Bau looked down and at the ground. “Bau? Come on.”
The Builder twiddled his thumbs nervously. “Right behind you…” he quietly told Neric, following in suit.
The three Elders disappeared upstairs, leaving me and Paten alone.
“I, uhhh,” Paten began. “Well, good afterno—I mean, goodnight.” The Needleworker slowly stood and pushed his chair in, taking extra care to ensure it was straight. As he left he dared a few glances back at me.
And all that was left was me. I sat at the table for a moment. A Silent can’t be an Elder, Neric’s voice echoed in my head. Yet here I was, sitting in the Elder Tower, finishing a meeting of the Elders, ready to return to my quarters.
I should be proud that I made it here. This is no small feat. No Silent had ever entered these halls before.
A Silent can’t be an Elder!
Using the staff, I pushed myself up. My hand moved up towards my throat, where my voice should live. Never before did it feel so empty. The Manufacturer made a mistake with me. In all its wisdom, it made an error. And errors don’t belong in the Elder Tower.
A Silent can’t be an Elder!
“Don’t worry, there are others like you,” York had said back on the terrace of the Tower of Mechanics, leaving for his new life here in the Tower. But there are no Silents in the Elder Council. We do not belong here.
My feet trudged up the stairs. Each step was heavier than the last. A voice in the back of my head was telling me to turn back now. To go back to the Mechanic Tower and spend the rest of my days working in the Garage. To die quietly one day and be burned by the Morticians in the furnaces of the Manufacturer.
But I knew I couldn’t. A Silent can’t be an Elder.
I heard Paten’s door open behind me. “Delta?” he said, unsure of himself if he remembered my name correctly.
The Needleworker stood beneath the door, his body half-hidden by the entrance. “Um, uh…” he began, struggling to find the right words, “I think I may have something you will be interested in.” When I didn’t move immediately to him he said, “I need to talk to you in here.”
Paten disappeared into his room not waiting to see me follow.
His room didn’t have a Battery, I realized. Nor did it have a window. It was much cleaner and brighter than the room I saw my first day. The piles of dismembered and repaired dolls disappeared, unveiling a clean work room. Unlike my quarters or the other Elder’s, Paten’s craft took place within his own room. Rows of shelves littered with scissors and knives and spools of thread lined the walls. Much finer than any other Needleworker workstation that I had seen.
Paten was shuffling through boxes that filled up a shelf. “You don’t have a voice. Do you why there is no cure for…well, for Silents,” he mumbled preoccupied, careful about his use of the word. Paten didn’t bother to look back at my answer. “Because it is impossible to connect one without touching the other wires that are all vital to live. The throat is an important area, it’s where everything meets your head.
“I have been practicing and studying the anatomy of all the droids. And, I may have figured out a process to transplant a voice bo…” he trailed off before pulling out a small black box. “Aha!” he exclaimed.
Paten took great care in carrying the device. “Now, what I am about to show you,” he said, quivering faintly, “is not legal. I may be killed if Alpha finds out. You need to promise me not to tell anyone.” He placed it into my own hands. I could make out my own face in the reflection of the shny metal. It felt so precious. “This is a voice box. I’ve been waiting seasons to get a hold of one. But the only ones that are made are given to droids. And every part of a droid is to be destroyed with it.
“But when York died, I couldn’t let the opportunity slip by. While performing an autopsy on his body, I removed his voice. If you let me, I think I can give it to you. I believe that I ca-“ A stomp and shot from above interrupted the Needleworker.
“This is no time for weakness, Bau!” Neric shouted.
Paten nervously laughed at it. “Guess I’m a little anxious. His room isn’t perfectly sound proof…Sometimes you can hear those three shouting during their discussions. It’s not important,” he explained at a lower volume.
“As I was saying, four wires…” I found myself unable to concentrate on Paten. Every Needleworker has tried developing an operation to give Silents voices. Silents who agree to try them out almost always die.
Instead, my head tilted up, focusing on the conversation occurring upstairs. “Alpha is a terrible…there is no other way…We have to…”
“I can’t do it!” Bau shouted, loud enough to make Paten jump and knock over a plate of tools. “I will not agree to this!”
Paten noticed my interest in the discussion. “Don’t worry about them,” he said with a hint of anger and annoyance while picking up scissors and forceps off the ground. “They are probably talking about how much they hate Alpha. Neric only wants to take over the Council.”
Another loud stomp upstairs. “Alpha must die! It’s him or the Manufacturer! Is that what you want? Or do we need to kill you two Bau!?” Neric shouted.
I went numb. Alpha must die! I looked to Paten, wanting to have misheard him. Paten’s expression made it clear I hadn’t.
Paten placed the tray he knocked over on his table. “They’re just joking,” he said distantly. “They…they don’t mean it. It’s what they always say. Um…so…” The Needleworker struggled to find words.
They always say it, I reassured myself. But this time was different. Alpha had done something to make his death a reality. He raised a Silent to the ranks of an Elder.
“Like I said, don’t worry about them. They, they don’t mean any of it.”
I wanted to move. To run. But was paralyzed with fear.
They are going to kill Alpha.
“I…I…I…uh, if you…” Paten struggled to find words. He wasn’t looking me in the eye. “They won’t do anything. It is treason to kill the High Elder. They won’t. They can’t. Neric couldn’t do that.”
The Needleworker shook his head.
“You should just come back tomorrow. I don’t think you’re in the best state after the Seasonal Meeting. I think everyone will be in a better mood.” Without a second’s thought, Paten thrusted my staff into my hands and pushed me out the door, it brushing the cloth of my back as it slid shut.
Listening closely, I could hear him whisper and weep to himself within his quarters. They don’t mean it, I tried to tell myself.
Neric’s door swung open up ahead on the stairs. Wan stepped out and trotted to his room. Bau appeared not far behind. He noticed me and was frowning. That was the first time I saw him frown. The Builder lowered his head and hurried up the stairs following after Wan.
Neric waved the two off. When he saw me spying, the old droid glowered down, grinning. That was the first time I saw him grin. His door creaked shut and clapped as it pressed shut.
Alpha must die, he echoed. They mean it.
My mind began to race. I needed to stop them. I needed to run. I needed to warn Alpha.
I took a few cautious steps down. If Neric realized I knew, he’d kill me. Just like they will kill Alpha. But I couldn’t stand take slow, short steps. I was too scared.
My feet pounded against the stairs as I charged down them. My hand waved over the panel situated beside the door tapping it nervously. If Alpha knows he can stop them, I hoped.
““Hello, Delta-12. Would you like to go to the Factory?”the monitor read. I repeatedly pressed the button labeled “YES” until the door slid apart, letting the gray light of the overcast sky leak through. An elevator was already waiting for me, I happily saw. I hopped into the glass chamber before I swung away from the Tower.
The rest of us sat a moment longer. Not surprisingly, Neric was the first to stand up.
“Wan. Bau. Come. It is time for a certain discussion,” he said coldly. Wan immediately stood, but Bau looked down and at the ground. “Bau? Come on.”
The Builder twiddled his thumbs nervously. “Right behind you…” he quietly told Neric, following in suit.
The three Elders disappeared upstairs, leaving me and Paten alone.
“I, uhhh,” Paten began. “Well, good afterno—I mean, goodnight.” The Needleworker slowly stood and pushed his chair in, taking extra care to ensure it was straight. As he left he dared a few glances back at me.
And all that was left was me. I sat at the table for a moment. A Silent can’t be an Elder, Neric’s voice echoed in my head. Yet here I was, sitting in the Elder Tower, finishing a meeting of the Elders, ready to return to my quarters.
I should be proud that I made it here. This is no small feat. No Silent had ever entered these halls before.
A Silent can’t be an Elder!
Using the staff, I pushed myself up. My hand moved up towards my throat, where my voice should live. Never before did it feel so empty. The Manufacturer made a mistake with me. In all its wisdom, it made an error. And errors don’t belong in the Elder Tower.
A Silent can’t be an Elder!
“Don’t worry, there are others like you,” York had said back on the terrace of the Tower of Mechanics, leaving for his new life here in the Tower. But there are no Silents in the Elder Council. We do not belong here.
My feet trudged up the stairs. Each step was heavier than the last. A voice in the back of my head was telling me to turn back now. To go back to the Mechanic Tower and spend the rest of my days working in the Garage. To die quietly one day and be burned by the Morticians in the furnaces of the Manufacturer.
But I knew I couldn’t. A Silent can’t be an Elder.
I heard Paten’s door open behind me. “Delta?” he said, unsure of himself if he remembered my name correctly.
The Needleworker stood beneath the door, his body half-hidden by the entrance. “Um, uh…” he began, struggling to find the right words, “I think I may have something you will be interested in.” When I didn’t move immediately to him he said, “I need to talk to you in here.”
Paten disappeared into his room not waiting to see me follow.
His room didn’t have a Battery, I realized. Nor did it have a window. It was much cleaner and brighter than the room I saw my first day. The piles of dismembered and repaired dolls disappeared, unveiling a clean work room. Unlike my quarters or the other Elder’s, Paten’s craft took place within his own room. Rows of shelves littered with scissors and knives and spools of thread lined the walls. Much finer than any other Needleworker workstation that I had seen.
Paten was shuffling through boxes that filled up a shelf. “You don’t have a voice. Do you why there is no cure for…well, for Silents,” he mumbled preoccupied, careful about his use of the word. Paten didn’t bother to look back at my answer. “Because it is impossible to connect one without touching the other wires that are all vital to live. The throat is an important area, it’s where everything meets your head.
“I have been practicing and studying the anatomy of all the droids. And, I may have figured out a process to transplant a voice bo…” he trailed off before pulling out a small black box. “Aha!” he exclaimed.
Paten took great care in carrying the device. “Now, what I am about to show you,” he said, quivering faintly, “is not legal. I may be killed if Alpha finds out. You need to promise me not to tell anyone.” He placed it into my own hands. I could make out my own face in the reflection of the shny metal. It felt so precious. “This is a voice box. I’ve been waiting seasons to get a hold of one. But the only ones that are made are given to droids. And every part of a droid is to be destroyed with it.
“But when York died, I couldn’t let the opportunity slip by. While performing an autopsy on his body, I removed his voice. If you let me, I think I can give it to you. I believe that I ca-“ A stomp and shot from above interrupted the Needleworker.
“This is no time for weakness, Bau!” Neric shouted.
Paten nervously laughed at it. “Guess I’m a little anxious. His room isn’t perfectly sound proof…Sometimes you can hear those three shouting during their discussions. It’s not important,” he explained at a lower volume.
“As I was saying, four wires…” I found myself unable to concentrate on Paten. Every Needleworker has tried developing an operation to give Silents voices. Silents who agree to try them out almost always die.
Instead, my head tilted up, focusing on the conversation occurring upstairs. “Alpha is a terrible…there is no other way…We have to…”
“I can’t do it!” Bau shouted, loud enough to make Paten jump and knock over a plate of tools. “I will not agree to this!”
Paten noticed my interest in the discussion. “Don’t worry about them,” he said with a hint of anger and annoyance while picking up scissors and forceps off the ground. “They are probably talking about how much they hate Alpha. Neric only wants to take over the Council.”
Another loud stomp upstairs. “Alpha must die! It’s him or the Manufacturer! Is that what you want? Or do we need to kill you two Bau!?” Neric shouted.
I went numb. Alpha must die! I looked to Paten, wanting to have misheard him. Paten’s expression made it clear I hadn’t.
Paten placed the tray he knocked over on his table. “They’re just joking,” he said distantly. “They…they don’t mean it. It’s what they always say. Um…so…” The Needleworker struggled to find words.
They always say it, I reassured myself. But this time was different. Alpha had done something to make his death a reality. He raised a Silent to the ranks of an Elder.
“Like I said, don’t worry about them. They, they don’t mean any of it.”
I wanted to move. To run. But was paralyzed with fear.
They are going to kill Alpha.
“I…I…I…uh, if you…” Paten struggled to find words. He wasn’t looking me in the eye. “They won’t do anything. It is treason to kill the High Elder. They won’t. They can’t. Neric couldn’t do that.”
The Needleworker shook his head.
“You should just come back tomorrow. I don’t think you’re in the best state after the Seasonal Meeting. I think everyone will be in a better mood.” Without a second’s thought, Paten thrusted my staff into my hands and pushed me out the door, it brushing the cloth of my back as it slid shut.
Listening closely, I could hear him whisper and weep to himself within his quarters. They don’t mean it, I tried to tell myself.
Neric’s door swung open up ahead on the stairs. Wan stepped out and trotted to his room. Bau appeared not far behind. He noticed me and was frowning. That was the first time I saw him frown. The Builder lowered his head and hurried up the stairs following after Wan.
Neric waved the two off. When he saw me spying, the old droid glowered down, grinning. That was the first time I saw him grin. His door creaked shut and clapped as it pressed shut.
Alpha must die, he echoed. They mean it.
My mind began to race. I needed to stop them. I needed to run. I needed to warn Alpha.
I took a few cautious steps down. If Neric realized I knew, he’d kill me. Just like they will kill Alpha. But I couldn’t stand take slow, short steps. I was too scared.
My feet pounded against the stairs as I charged down them. My hand waved over the panel situated beside the door tapping it nervously. If Alpha knows he can stop them, I hoped.
““Hello, Delta-12. Would you like to go to the Factory?”the monitor read. I repeatedly pressed the button labeled “YES” until the door slid apart, letting the gray light of the overcast sky leak through. An elevator was already waiting for me, I happily saw. I hopped into the glass chamber before I swung away from the Tower.