moonshadows

“Miss Donovan, are you showing my Warehouse pornography?”

Claudia jumped with an undignified squeak. “Jeez, give me a heart attack why don’t you!” Not quite irritated but not calm either, she turned to the Caretaker. “I am not showing her porn. I’m trying to give her a visual range for judging human gender so she can apply the correct pronouns without asking and so she can stop calling everyone artifacts. We started with clothed figures,” she continued less defensively, “but really explaining the difference between male and female requires understanding the biological details.”

The Caretaker looked at the shabti, radiating quiet approval. “I’ve already spoken to Arthur,” she said evenly. “I wasn’t entirely aware that I was activating this artifact, but I can’t say I’m displeased by the turn of events. I suspect the figure was primed for activation from its long storage in Warehouse Two, and the integration of the Warehouse Two systems transferred that control to Warehouse Thirteen.”

“Yes.”

A snort to hide amusement. “You sound like a child. Miss Donovan, do me a favor and expose this poor thing to some decent singers so she can emulate a better voice. I expect you’ll need to figure out her taste in music. Not that you wouldn’t have eventually,” she added with a sly sideways look. “I’m sure you’ll take quite good care of the Warehouse when I step down.”

Claudia closed her mouth, eyes wide, uncertain as to what she should say to that.

“As for you,” the Caretaker murmured specifically to the shabti, weighing it with careful eyes, “I lay upon you this command: so long as I am Caretaker, you will only answer to the will of both Caretaker and Warehouse, and no other command shall supersede this one.” The hieroglyphs shimmered and changed, reflecting the directive laid upon the artifact. The Caretaker nodded in satisfaction. “There; that should do it. Keep this quiet for the time being,” she warned with a glance at Claudia. “There’s no need to let the Regents think this is anything but an approved addition to Artie’s toolbox. If asked, you can say with complete honesty that I authorized use of this artifact to fulfill some of the duties Leena handled on top of running the bed and breakfast.”

“Jawohl,” she replied, snapping a salute that was only half facetious.

The Caretaker turned back to the shabti. “And how are your language lessons going?” she asked kindly.

“Artie like Vanessa. Hurt…her. He fix. Them happy.”

“We’re still working on verbs,” Claudia said dryly, “but this is amazing progress compared to this morning.”

“Yes,” the Caretaker said fondly. “Yes, it is. But that’s not actually why I came down here.”

Claudia’s fear spiked.

“Go and get dressed in something as conservative as you own. You are all going to a hearing in front of the Regents regarding Arthur’s continued employment here.”

Fear, concern, and dread. “I’ll just, uh, go do that, then.” Claudia fled.

“It will be alright,” Mrs. Frederic said once she was alone in Hugo’s lab. “Go, explore, get used to seeing things from this perspective. Arthur will return to you soon enough.”

She stayed in the Core the entire time the favored artifacts were gone, as if standing guard, and the shabti moved from area to area. Actually seeing the shelves, the artifacts, the floor, the walls, was an entirely new experience and despite nagging disquiet at the lack of favored artifacts, the hours flew past. When the cluster of emotional signatures returned to the area above and outside, Mrs. Frederic returned the wave of relief and eagerness with tolerant amusement. Even so, Claudia and the artifact identified as Steve were uneasy and poor broken Artie was a tangle of grief and anger. It was a wise thing, then, that the Caretaker had stayed to guard rather than one of the Regents. The others milled briefly before leaving Artie to its – his – sullenness. Only then was the shabti moved to the Core, where it slowly climbed metal stairs and pushed open a wooden door.

Artie relaxed when the ebony head came into view. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, relief and a little hope seeping past the darker tangle. “The Regents decided that they see ‘no need for punishment at this juncture’ so they’re not hauling me away.” He snorted, sitting heavily on the bed. “As if they could do without me.”

“Artie good artifact.”

His lips twitched into a little smile. “Thanks. After all I’ve done and everything that’s happened, it’s nice to know that the one whose opinion matters most has my back.” With a groan, he flopped onto his back and lay still. “I’m still responsible, you know. Even if it wasn’t my will that pulled the trigger. I should have told everyone from the start, I had so many chances…”

“Bad artifact…bad words.”

Artie snorted. “You’ve got that right. But it’s still my fault. I put everyone in danger.”

“Why?”

He looked up incredulously. “Why-? Okay, I’m going to need more than that, because there’s too many things you could be asking why about. A-and…you can come over here. If you want. I-I mean, you don’t have to…stand by the door.”

The ebony figure moved to the bed and sat, awkwardly. Words…which words would work? “Why…bad artifact hurt Artie? Why bring? Why bad artifact angry?”

“Why did I use the astrolabe,” he breathed, sitting up. “Oh god…of course, you wouldn’t know. You remember Walter Sykes?”

The shabti’s carved features snarled. “Break Steve.”

“How- never mind, Claudia probably told you. Yes, he’s the one who had Steve killed. He brought in a very angry artifact, and we used a good one to stop him.”

“Stop him,” repeated the shabti. “Break him.”

Artie thought about commenting on that implication, but decided he didn’t really want to know. “Yes, well. In any case, if we hadn’t done that, the artifact he brought in…Claudia found a way to manipulate a portion of the barrier generated by the Remati Shackle and we were able to escape, but the bomb…we didn’t know it was there.” His voice shook. “When it went off…the Warehouse and everything inside was destroyed. Mrs. Frederic died because of her connection, and Pandora’s Box…opened. The world lost hope. Suicides and riots, the very collapse of civilization had begun. We had to find the astrolabe and use it to undo the previous twenty-four hours and keep that from happening.”

The shabti was silent for a long minute, making Artie worry.

“I know I did the right thing,” he said quietly. “Compared to that…the life of one person, even someone I loved…it’s a small price. But it’s a price I wish she didn’t have to pay.”

“Leena know.” The words were equally quiet. “She know she break here. Mrs. Frederic say no, Leena say not hurt.”

“She knew.” Artie moaned softly. “She knew she would die in the Warehouse, and she was at peace with that.”

Ebony arms gathered him gently up. “Shh. Artie good artifact. Leena know.”

“I miss her. I miss all of them, but I didn’t- it wasn’t my body-”

Quietly, he cried as the shabti held him.

“Why do I smell apples?” he asked in a croak when the tears ended.

That was an excellent question. “Not know. Like Artie?”

He thought about that while cleaning his glasses. “I guess it makes sense. I mean…fudge…so really, olfactory detection isn’t out of the question…Ah, thank you. For…letting me…for supporting me.”

“Like Artie.” Then, in a small voice, “Need Artie.”

Surprise. “Y-you do? I mean, I know you need agents and you need someone here to make sure all the artifacts…play nice…but I didn’t- you really- …me?” he finished in something a shade too soft to be a squeak.

“Yes.”

“I won’t let you down,” Artie promised.

The shabti smiled. “Good Artie, good artifact.” A pause. “Good Artie-fact.”

That got a small chuckle. “Two days into the whole talking thing and you’ve already mastered the art of mocking me. I see how it is.” He sounded indignant, but pleased sparkles were breaking up the grief and anger.

“Shelf.” Ebony lips pressed gently against his temple, the way Leena’s energy whispered.

“Yes, shelf,” Artie agreed, calming further. “I’ll, uh, see you in the morning. Good night. And…thank you again.”