Orion and the Clockwork (The Carmsborough Vigilantes #2)

Chapter 12

"What do you need a radio for, anyway?" Luna asked, practically reclining herself on the pile of junk to sift through and relocate. The cat was on her lap, where she was petting it mindlessly.

Orion panted, wheeling around another bucket of miscellaneous scrap to send to some other basin. It all felt a little pointless and more like busy work. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you the truth."

"So lie to me."

"Giraffe just came out with a new album, and I really need to hear it."

"No clue who that is. Now tell me the truth."

"I need to know Syndra's plans and what all is happening around the country, so I can make it right and put an end to it."

"No clue who that is, either."

"Wait, you don't know about Syndra?"

"Is it some sort of tech company?"

"No. Syndra is a person. He hosted a hostile takeover of Carmsborough a couple days ago. Shot the man in charge of creating the steambots, who hosted the unveiling of the Clockwork, his latest creation. He's currently forcefully removing people from their houses."

She perked up at the last note. "What? Why?"

"I don't know. I didn't catch enough of the radio broadcast to hear the reason. All I know is I don't want that happening to my sister and dad, and I need to stop him before he hurts anyone else."

"A hostile takeover?"

"You really don't know anything about this?"

"I am quite literally homeless. Nothing that happens around here tends to affect people like me."

"Even though you have a steambot? You haven't heard of the Clockwork, either?"

"I feel like this is the lie, and the other thing about giraffes was the truth."

"I swear. It's all true. I need to know what's happening so I can stop it."

She looked down at her cat, who did nothing. "And you don't know anything about them kicking people out of their places?"

"I wish I did. Why?"

"Doesn't matter. If all this is true, then your story should align with what my guy will have to tell me. Then I'll know if you're the real deal, and then I'll make sure you get your radio."

"But I'm not allowed to know anything about your guy."

"Correct."

"Can I know anything?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Why are you homeless?"

"Nope, can't know that."

"How long have you been living like this?"

"What is today?"

"I don't remember. This all started on May sixth, so maybe the tenth. Or ninth. The days have all run together a bit."

"A couple of years."

"What's the deal with your cat? How did you get it?"

"Him," she glared. "And his name is Freckles."

"Where did you get him?"

"Here, actually. Best find I've ever gotten. He's perfect."

"I don't mean to be rude about this, especially since you're very willing to help me about this, but he's just a steambot. A machine. A means to an end. Why bother gendering him, or giving him a name?"