Alice

Before Alice, my life was going almost nowhere. I went to the lyceum, came home, did what was expected of me, sometimes helped my mother, and simply waited for the next day. I never seriously thought about where to apply, what to do after graduation, or what I even wanted from life. Back then, I was perfectly fine with that. I suppose that when you have nothing, you don’t have to be afraid that you will never reach it.

In the middle of tenth grade, on one of the days in May, I forgot a couple of textbooks, and that forced me to talk to her for the first time.

Her name was Alice.

At first, I hesitated and tried to pretend that I could manage perfectly well without them, but the teacher had already started going over a new topic.

I looked around, still hoping to find salvation in someone else, but the only free seat was next to Alice. For a few seconds, I just watched her and turned thoughts over in my head: embarrassment, fear, and shame burned inside me one after another, along with one question: should I even go over there?

— H-hi. — She shifted her gaze from her notebook to me. — I forgot my textbook... Can I sit with you?

— Hi. — She moved her things aside and shifted over. — Of course. It’s more interesting and fun together. — She lightly patted the chair a couple of times.

— Thank you.

A few minutes after the lesson started, she glanced at my only pen and notebook and asked awkwardly:

— How do you manage like that?

— What do you mean? — I asked.

— Well... you forgot everything?

Ah... — I drawled nervously, after which an awkward pause fell between us. — Things at home can get complicated. I keep waking up because of it, didn’t get enough sleep and... that’s it. — She gave an awkward little laugh and turned away again.

The class was still noisy around us: someone was talking in the back rows, the teacher was writing something on the board, and machines were working behind the wall. But suddenly, I stopped paying attention to any of it.

There was only the textbook, her voice, and the rustle of pages. Alice slowly turned the pages, sometimes stopping at the right place and running her finger along the lines.

Stopping at the right paragraph, she began tracing the lines with her finger again and quietly explaining the topic. She explained how mechanical impulses passed through living tissue and why a single malfunction could disrupt the entire system. We understood different specialties, I was more familiar with how to fix a breakdown or make a mechanism simpler.

— I see, — I nodded.

— You understood? — Alice looked at me.

— Of course. — She was silent for a few seconds.

— You didn’t understand anything.

— Well... more or less. — She rolled her eyes and then quietly laughed.

— Fine. Look again. — She started explaining everything from the beginning, this time much more simply.

I really tried to listen, even though half of the terms still went right over my head.

What I did like was the way she talked about all of it. She clearly loved explaining things, and whenever she noticed that I was at least trying to follow her words, a smile appeared on her face.

The hum of the classroom grew quieter, the teacher started collecting the notebooks, and the sound of covers hitting the desks echoed in my ears one after another.

My notebook was almost completely empty. I was already preparing myself for another scolding when Alice suddenly pulled it toward herself.

— Your notebook is empty.

— So what?

— You didn’t write anything down. — She snatched it and, taking my pen, quickly began filling the empty lines with ink.

I watched her fingers confidently gripping the pen. She wrote quickly but neatly, as if she already knew where everything should be. Beside a neat diagram of a cell, she suddenly drew a little man holding a green bottle.

— He looks a little like you, — she whispered.

— Why?

— Well... — She smiled. — He just does.

For some reason, I couldn’t find anything to say.

The next day, she didn’t come. At first, I didn’t pay much attention to it. There could be any number of reasons why someone might miss class. But then I started thinking that maybe I had done something wrong and she had been really upset, deciding not to show up so she wouldn’t have to see me.

A few minutes later, I caught myself looking at the empty seat beside me again and again. Every time, it was still empty.

During the break, for some reason, I walked over to her desk. The same notebook with the drawings was lying on the edge of the desk. I awkwardly reached out, but something inside me stopped me. It was hers. I had no right to look inside.

After stepping away from the desk, a pleasant-looking guy came up to me and started talking.

— What are you standing around for? — I turned around. My classmate was looking at me with a grin.

— Nothing, just.

— Looking for Alice? — I shrugged. — She’s sick, I think.

— Yeah, I see.

— What do you see? — I asked.

— You’re waiting for something else, aren’t you? — At my rude response, he simply turned around and walked away.

The whole day passed somehow without me. The only thing I remembered was that guy occasionally glancing at me.

Before we met, the days at the lyceum were almost indistinguishable from one another, but now everything around me had somehow become irritating. The squeaking of chalk on the board seemed louder than usual, the clattering of brass fittings against the walls sounded sharper, and lunch suddenly tasted like fuel oil.

I caught myself several times looking at her empty seat again. We’d only known each other for a day, and already I was catching myself waiting for her return. Did I really care that much about what was happening to her?

Left alone, I sank back into the familiar noise of the lyceum: the intermittent hissing of gas lamps, shouts from the workshops, conversations about the upcoming test.

When classes ended, I stood by the exit for a few more minutes, not daring to leave.

I didn’t know where she lived, and I spent almost the entire break going around to my classmates, asking everyone about Alice. Some looked at me strangely, some laughed, and some didn’t even understand who I was talking about.

Eventually, one guy remembered that he’d seen her near Medyanki several times. So I headed to the principal’s office. I knocked and, without waiting for an answer, looked inside.

— Excuse me, hello.

— Hi. Did you need something?

— Yes... I need Alice’s address.

She looked up from her papers and over the top of her glasses at me.

— Why?

— She’s sick, I wanted to visit her. And I also have something I need to give her.

— That’s not a reason to give you her home address.

— Well, what if I promise I’ll just give her the thing and leave?

— And what if you don’t leave?

I fell silent.

— You see, — she continued, — if Alice herself had asked me to give you her address, I would. But she hasn’t asked me.

— So you really can’t help me at all?

She was silent for a few seconds, flipping through some papers.

— I won’t give you the full address. She lives in Medyanki, house thirty-four.

I had already opened my mouth, but she immediately raised a finger.

— You’ll figure out the rest yourself.

— The apartment?

— You won’t hear that from me. — I nodded, getting ready to leave, but the principal suddenly added: — Although, I think she’s in number eleven.

— But you didn’t want to tell me anything.

— It’s just the first time I’ve seen someone take an interest in her. I hope your intentions are good. — I was already out the door.

A familiar horn sounded overhead. An airship bus was slowly approaching the stop, a small form of city transport that we usually just called a dibus. I looked at my watch. Four o’clock. It was still a long way until evening, so I boarded.

The dibus started moving, swaying heavily on its rail suspension. Clouds of steam escaped from the side valves from time to time, and familiar streets slowly drifted past the cloudy windows. In several places, the amber streetlights hadn’t come on, and the driver slowed down every time before the dark intersections.

There were only a few stops left until Alice’s district when the engine beneath us suddenly began to cough. The dibus jerked, then jerked again, much harder, and stopped right by the side of the road.

— What happened? — someone asked from the back seat.

The driver sighed and climbed out. After opening the side panel, he stared inside for a few seconds.

— The pressure dropped, — he finally said. — We’re not going anywhere for a while. Forty minutes, maybe an hour, until I figure it out.

I already wanted to walk there anyway, and the breakdown forced me to do it. It was only a few stops, and I could easily walk that distance. Leaving my copper ticket with the conductor, I got off and continued on foot. On the way, I stopped at a small shop with a sign that read: “Ozzie and Elara.”

Brass gears, glass flasks, and parts from old mechanisms lay in the display window. I stopped and went inside. It was warm there, but cooler than outside.

— Is anyone here?

— If you’ve come to buy something, I am, — a woman’s voice came from behind the counter. — And if you’re here to break something, show me what it is first. — An elderly woman was sitting behind the counter, pouring something into a disassembled cash register. — What do you want, sonny? — the old woman asked.

— I’m going to a classmate. She didn’t come to the lyceum today. Probably sick. — I shrugged. — I wanted to buy something to take to her. — The woman looked me over from behind her glasses.

— Ah, a romantic, are you?

— What? No. Just being friendly.

— Then take some grape lemonade. New, recently brought in from the capital. Everyone likes it.

— Is it expensive?

— Of course, one bronze. — For a liter bottle of the drink, that was expensive, but there was no way around it. I wanted to cheer Alice up.

— Oh... well, all right then, — I sighed. She took out a bottle and put it on the counter. I was already about to leave when I noticed the disassembled cash register. — Is it broken?

— Mm-hm. — She nodded.

— I can take a look, if you want. — Elara gave me a suspicious look.

— You know how to fix it, do you?

— A little. We studied this in class recently.

She looked at me sideways again, then turned her gaze back to the broken machine and said:

— Oh, all right. Just don’t break anything, or Ozzie will kill me.

I walked around the counter and, for the first time, found myself so close to the inside of an old machine. Everything inside was more complicated than I expected: brass gears, a steam system, small valves, and the mechanism that opened the cash drawer. I ran my finger along one of the connections.

— When was the last time it worked properly?

— I don’t remember.

— And what exactly broke? — I asked her, taking a wrench and some oil out of my bag.

— The drawer pops out on its own, and sometimes it gets stuck too. I’m already tired of it. Can you fix it?

I looked at the inside of the machine once more and said:

— I’ll try, but I don’t promise anything.

The machine smelled of hot copper mixed with burnt grease. The problem turned out to be in the steam system. Because of the dust, the steam valve wasn’t closing all the way, so the pressure inside the mechanism gradually increased even without a signal. At some point, it became enough for the drawer to open on its own. All that remained was to replace the clogged coil and clean the valve.

— We need a new coil. Do you have one? — I asked.

— A coil? I’ll look in Ozzie’s storage. — Grandma Elara began rummaging through the brass parts in a box, making them clink like coins. — Here, take it.

I took the coil from her and replaced it. After finishing the repair, I asked her to test it. Elara pressed the cash register button several times. The mechanism worked without a single jam.

— Well, would you look at that, — she muttered with a smile. — You’re good at this. — She reached into the box of parts again. — And what’s that girl’s name?

— Which one?

— The one you spent your money on.

— Oh, Alice.

— There was a girl here yesterday, also named Alice, I think she studies with you. She was looking for filters for her automatons. — I froze.

— Automatons?

— Yes. We have plenty of spare parts for them.

— Interesting... — I thought about it.

— So, you know her? Wait, remind me, who are you going to?

— Her. Yes, you understood correctly.

— Oh, that’s wonderful, then give her this. — She took a tin bottle out of her pocket. There was water inside. And a red rose. I frowned.

— How does it even grow in there?

— No idea, — Elara shrugged. — Alice brought it herself. She admitted that the thing was important to her. — I carefully took the bottle.

— Wow, but how does it...

— I don’t know. She almost never let it out of her hands, — Elara continued. — And when she lost it once, she turned the whole shop upside down.

— That important?

— To her, yes. — Elara was silent for a moment.

I looked at the little rose inside the bottle and then added:

— It’s strange and funny at the same time.

— Very, — Elara smirked. — But good people are often strange. — She held out her hand.

— You know the address? — I nodded, and she continued: — Give it to her, and tell her to come get it herself next time.

When I left the shop, a cold wind hit my face. I squeezed the little bottle in my pocket and looked at the address I’d written down.

When I reached her door, I heard the quiet hum of a boiler and occasional short hisses from behind it.

I pressed the doorbell. Nothing. I waited a few seconds and pressed it again. Footsteps sounded behind the door.

— Who is it?

— Uh... it’s me. We sat together in biomechanics yesterday, — I muttered, looking down at her feet.

The door opened. Alice stared at me in surprise.

— You?

— Hi.

Behind her, I could see a spacious apartment with dark red wallpaper and patterns on the walls.

— How did you find my address?

— I remembered. And Elara told me the apartment number. You must know her. I stopped by her shop. By the way, here. — With trembling hands, I held out her tin talisman and the bottle of grape lemonade.

— O-o-o, I was wondering where I left it, where did you get it? Did I leave it in class yesterday?

— No, no. You lost it at Elara’s shop, she told me to give it to you, and I bought the lemonade because I thought maybe you were feeling bad, so I could at least make you feel a little better... — I squeezed out, saying each sentence more quietly and turning redder each time.

— Thank you so much, my dear. How did you know? Were you following me? — she asked, with a hint of a joke.

— No, it was intuition. And what does this little tin bottle mean? It looks so pretty.

— Oh, that’s a long story, it’s easier to show you. Wait here. — Five minutes later, she came out in her outdoor clothes. — Come on, I’ll show you my little storage place, — she suggested, stepping outside.

— Maybe you should stay home and show me another time.

— It’s not far.

She took me by the wrist, and soon we reached a huge warehouse. It was covered in brass and filled with various installations. Steam seeped from the pipes, and Alice was telling me something about automatons.

— Why are we here?

— Come in.

Inside, I was met by a graveyard of automatons and huge piles of various spare parts and lubricants. There were shelves with several limbs of automatons of different shapes lying on them. There, the arms of a humanoid on shelf A1-15, and on shelf B2-23, the head of an automaton used for mining.

— There is so much here. Is all of this yours?

— Haha, no, of course not, but I’m allowed to use it. See that small workshop over there? — She pointed to a distant door covered with a curtain. — That’s where I make my creations.

Her personal workshop contained countless parts that made the automatons move or affected their steps. They all stood in different poses, as if waiting for a command to start moving.

— It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Though it would be better if they actually worked properly. I’ve been trying to bring this project to life for a couple of years now.

— Sorry, but can you give me at least a little explanation?

— I want to teach automatons how to dance.

— Wow, that’s ambitious. Do you think it’s possible?

— I’m sure it is. I’ve loved dancing since I was a child, and I still love it now. When I first saw automatons, I decided to bring them to life, at least one of them. You asked about that talisman. I want you to figure out what it means yourself. Am I boring you yet?

— No, no, it’s interesting. So that’s why you were looking for... filters yesterday?

— Yes, Elara told you about that too? She has never been good at keeping secrets... — she snorted, wrinkling her nose and crossing her arms.

— Was it a secret?

— No, — she said with a smile.

She slowly walked around each automaton, saying something as she went. Her words went in one ear and out the other. I admired her desire to change the world and her love for these machines. She mourned some of them, approaching them and saying that, for example, this automaton had come closest to perfection, but because of a malfunction, everything had broken down, and it could never be fully restored.

I learned that she worked part-time at some theater, where she rented out some of her simpler models and got paid for every performance where they were used. They mostly made simple movements, so she wasn’t worried about them breaking.

— Why do so many people at school talk about you that way?

— Who? — she asked, jumping onto a huge drawer.

— Well, yesterday some guy came up to me and said...

— What? — she asked, tilting her head back.

— That there are rumors going around about you.

— What kind? Tell me, I’m interested.

— I don’t remember, or rather, I didn’t even listen to his nonsense. — She looked away and blushed.

— Well, that’s how they always are. They make things up about me and try to ruin my reputation. I hate them. They’re doing it purely out of jealousy, I’m sure of it. Thanks for not listening to those idiots.

— He was just one guy.

— One? Well, there are other people who don’t like me either.

— Why? What did you do? I haven’t seen anything like that from you all these years.

— Just personal issues with them, it’s fine. The important thing is that they don’t break us, right?

— Probably.

She jumped down from the drawer and said that we’d been there long enough, and the workshop was getting slightly chilly. She took me by the wrist, and we headed for the exit.

— Did you like our little trip? — she asked, touching her neck.

— More than liked it. Your idea of bringing automatons to life is something else. Do you want me to help you with all this? — After meeting her, my usual world suddenly seemed somehow small.

We stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and she slowly looked at me. I saw sparks and light in her eyes. I’d never seen her like that before. She took my hand, our fingers intertwined, and at that moment she whispered:

— Yes! Of course. I’m so happy that someone else doesn’t think this idea is strange. — She grabbed my hands.

— Promise you won’t leave me if we fail.

— I won’t.

— Then it’s a deal.

— Who else have you talked to about automatons?

— I discussed it with some people at school, but they laughed and said I was talking nonsense, that’s where the rumors came from. — She gave a bitter smile.

— Doesn’t it bother you?

— What?

— That they talk about you like that.

— Not really. I don’t care. They’re probably... I don’t know, stupid, careless, they don’t want to understand anything.

— Maybe then we’ll prove to them that they’re very wrong about you.

— About us now. They’re wrong about us. You’re with me now, right?

The smile on her face didn’t fade for a long time. I’d never seen her so happy, even though before that she had just been background noise.

I became interested in what exactly she meant by the word “we.” I still didn’t fully understand what drew me to her, but with every minute I wanted to stay by her side more and more. I suppose it was the first time I really wanted to help someone not because they asked me to, but simply because I wanted to.

Then we reached her apartment and said goodbye. When I went outside, I met some classmates. One of them was holding her tin bottle.

— What’s that? — I asked, staring at the object.

— You don’t know? — he asked, rolling it between his fingers.

— Looks familiar. — I took the talisman and examined it while Henry tensed, waiting for me to run away. — I think it’s a fake.

— Haha, you didn’t quite get it. We weren’t asking you to tell us whether it’s real or fake.

— Then what? — I handed the bottle back to him.

— It looks a lot like Alice’s talisman, right? — I slowly nodded.

— So?

— Ask her for two hundred and fifty bronzons and bring them to us.

— Why would she even give me that kind of money?

— Not our business.

— What? Why? Who the hell are you?

— I’ve got a lot to do, so think faster. You either give us what we want, or you get something. But you can avoid that. You give us... hmm... two hundred and fifty bronzons.

— How much? I don’t have that kind of money.

— Ask her.

— I’m not going to ask her for anything.

— Suit yourself.

Henry waved his hand, and I was shoved from behind. I fell, and everything after that turned into a short blur of blows and shouting.

Someone was swearing, someone was laughing. I tried to cover myself with my arms while thinking only one thing: I just wanted them to finally leave.

After some time, it was over.

— Stay here. Wait for your weird little girlfriend to help you if she sees you from the window.

They left, and I remained lying on the cold floor.

— Bastard! — I shouted after him as loudly as I could.

— What did you say? — he asked, turning around as soon as the sound reached him.

— Fuck you. — I spat it out in a thoughtless rush, as if I’d lost my self-preservation.

They exchanged glances and returned to me with smiles, leaving me with more injuries all over my body. I felt humiliated, and the only thing I wanted was for those people to die.

In the end, they left me lying on the cold floor. I watched them until their silhouettes disappeared into the shadows of the city.

I turned onto my back. There was nothing left for me to do except wait. For a moment, the world lost all its sounds, but immediately brought them back one by one. The sound of the dibus’s steam engine, which I hadn’t managed to board. The turbines of passing airships, dogs barking, cats meowing, the sound of a loudspeaker from an open door leading into someone’s home:

— Huh? Did you hear? They say automatons come to life in the morning and become full-fledged people, haha. And I heard Elizabeth Pankin made a good joke. Congratulations to Elizabeth on her great sense of humor.