Page 1 of Jinxed
SHE BURST THROUGH THE TREES, cradling the monster in her arms.
The whine of a pulse gun sounded in the wood; she ducked and the shot flew over her head, obliterating the trunk of a beech tree infront of her. Panic rose in her throat. They weren’t just out to destroy the monster.
They were going to kill her too.
She kept running, her feet slipping inside the blue plastic overshoes she hadn’t had time to remove before bolting from the lab. She’d known this day would come – she’d crossed the line so far, it was no longer even a mark on the horizon. But she still hadn’t been ready.
Howcould you ever be ready to lose what you’d been working on your entire life?
The creature vibrated against her chest, a red light pulsing against its hot metal skin like a heartbeat. It wriggled in her arms, trying to escape – as if it too knew what was coming – but she tightened her grip. She just had to make it to the other side of the ravine, to the emergency car that would take them to safety.
The next shot hit her shoulder and she wasn’t sure who screamed louder: her, or the creature. She stumbled, one leg collapsing underneath her as her foot sank into a crevice hidden by a carpet of fallen leaves. She dared to glimpse down and her heart almost stopped: the creature’s metal body was smoking, the acrid stench of burnt electronics filling her nostrils. The pulse guns were doing theirjob, destroying it from the inside out.
She pulled her foot free and pressed on. The bridge was so close she could feel the rumble of trains as they passed underneath. Yet the heavy booted steps of the men behind her were louder still.
‘Come on, come on,’ said the voice crackling in her ear.
She must have come into range of her partner’s communication device. She forced her legs to pump harder,ignoring the sticky wet stab of pain in her side...
Barely had her toe crossed the threshold on to the bridge when alarms started wailing, hidden IP protection sensors blaring from the tree line. Traps sprung from the ground, nets that coiled around her legs, tripping her up. ‘I’m down!’ she screamed into her earpiece. ‘Help me!’
‘Cutting comms, link destruction in process.’ Almost as anafterthought, he added, ‘Sorry.’ And then the line went dead.
Another pulse thumped her in the back, launching her forward and sending the monster flying from her arms. She had no choice but to watch as the smoking hunk of metal disappeared off the side of the bridge. Her assailants ran past her now, flinging themselves at the railing, leaning out over the edge and watching the blaze of sparkssent up as the metal monster hit the electrified track.
It was gone. Her life’s work: destroyed.
The men turned back to her, gun barrels levelling at her head. She closed her eyes and accepted the inevitable.
Down on the tracks below, the monster shuddered with one final pulse of life. As a train thundered down the tracks towards it, it only had the energy for the faintest sound.
It purred.
SMOKE RISES FROM THE TIP OF THE soldering iron, my eyes watering as I stare at the motherboard through the microscope. I don’t dare to blink, not until I finish melting the silver solder with itsrosin core flux into miniature peaks, connecting the loose components together.
I count the seconds in my head as the solder dries.One, two...
The butterfly lifts its delicate mechanical wings, scalene triangles of filigree metal opening and closing as it runs through system checks.Whirr-click.A small vibration signals the ‘okay’.
‘Yes!’ I jump to my feet and dance, swaying my hips intime to the victory music in my head.
Mom rushes in from the kitchen. ‘You did it?’
‘Why don’t you check?’
She nods and says, ‘To me, Petal.’ It takes a second for the command to register, but the butterfly flaps its wings, lifting up to land on her hand. Mom’s face glows, reflecting back the stream of texts and emails that Petal projects on to the flat of her palm. ‘Looks to me like she works!’
I grin. ‘Okay, just one final thing.’ I take Petal from Mom, gently placing her back under my microscope as I sit back down in my chair. My work is flawless: so neat the repairs are barely visible. Taking it to the Moncha vet would have taken days (and cost a fortune), but I’ve finished in less than an hour.
Satisfied, I snap the casing back over the exposed electronics. ‘There. Good as new.’
‘Thank you, honey!’ Mom wraps her arms around me, planting multiple kisses on my forehead. I groan in mock-mortification, but my face heats up with the warmth of her praise.
It’s notthatbig a deal. I’ve had a lot of practice with Petal. The butterflybakuis one of the bestsellers for Mom’s demographic and insects in general are the least complex models on the market, offering the bare minimumof functions like text and talk, a browser, GPS. The butterfly is extra popular because of the ability to customize its wings. On the flip side, the wings are flimsy, prone to snapping with the tiniest snag, which in turn damages the internal electronics. Petal is a perfect example. She got caught when Mom unwound her scarf and her projector malfunctioned.
‘You’re welcome. Remember to unleashher as soon as you get inside next time.’
‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Lacey. Your repair is better than what any of the vets could do.’ Mom smiles as Petal flies back up to settle on her shoulder, her hand still lingering on my back. ‘You find out today, don’t you?’
