Winter's Edge

Chapter 9 - Summerlight

Ian

THE next morning, I knocked at Abby's door.

"Come in. It's unlocked."

I slipped in, glancing around Abby's quarters. The layout looked like mine, but the door was on the opposite side, in front of the stairs. My quarters definitely did not have all of the girly purple things, either.

Abby sat at a desk in the loft finishing a small braid in her hair. "I'm almost ready."

I climbed the giant staircase.

Finished with her morning ritual, Abby rose and greeted me. She wore a white sundress with purple flowers floating up through it.

"You look beautiful." Geez, had I really just said that? I couldn't blame Lena's pheromones for that one.

Abby pulled back slightly, stunned. "Oh. Well, thank you." Her cheeks flushed.

"Is there some occasion I should have dressed for today?"

"No, I just figured I could get you out of some work this morning by showing you the Old City." She smiled with excitement as she passed by. "But first, Artie's workshop."

And with that, she whisked me away.

Moments later, we arrived in a room filled with tables and machinery, wires and circuit boards, and all kinds of gadgets. A short, curious-looking man in a World-War-I-fighter-pilot outfit—minus the flight cap—stood at a work bench full of furry little robotic dog parts. He was the goofy love child of the Red Barron Pizza guy and a mad scientist. Clean shaven with messy, brown hair and wide eyes, he talked to himself curiously, sorting something out. He looked only a little younger than Joseph—maybe late forties, early fifties.

"Hi, Artie." Abby greeted him with a warm smile.

Artie started, then smiled like his best friend had just walked in. He dropped a screwdriver on the workbench and pulled his goggles from his eyes to rest atop his head.

"Abby! Oh, and you must be Ian." He hesitated, then thrust out a hand to greet me. Before I could shake it, he pulled it back quickly, noticing it was dirty, and shrugged. "It's good to meet you."

"You too."

"I'm showing Ian around today." Abby gestured toward the table. "What are you working on?"

"Ah, yes." He turned to the dismembered fuzzy dog parts. Those, along with the stone walls, gave the room a disturbing Frankenstein feel. "This is my new friend. He's a guard dog."

It looked like a pug. The last thing he'd be doing would be striking fear into the hearts of intruders.

"Aw, he's cute." A quirky smile twisted Abby's lips. "Dismembered, but cute."

"He is, isn't he?" Artie's eyes embodied excitement with their wide gape, which seemed to be their permanent setting.

Abby cocked her head, getting a closer look at the dog. "So...what does he do?"

Artie inserted legs into the body and twisted them into a locked position. "He guards the workshop and keeps me company."

"It's a pug," I said. "Isn't a guard dog supposed to look...I don't know...scary?"

"That's the point." Artie inserted and twisted the dog's head into place. "Killer, wake up."

I stifled a laugh at the dog's name.

Killer's eyes opened and he hopped about an inch in the air. He panted, his tiny tongue hanging from his mouth, eerily life-like.

"What do we do to intruders?" Artie's lip twisted up.