Eviction Notice

When Claire arrived at work one morning, there was a sign on the door. It was a simple piece of paper with something written very precisely in red marker:

ALL HUMANS EVICTED effective immediately By order of the Iron Brotherhood

Claire tore it off, read it a second time, then crumpled it up and went inside.

Rachel was already there. The only customer, with an untouched cup of coffee beside her as usual.

“You seen the brotherhood guys, erm I mean, people, today?” asked Claire. Rachel looked up. “Not today. Why?”

Claire uncrumpled the note and held it up. “Apparently I’m evicted.”

Rachel might have sighed, but she had no lungs. She just shook her head. “I’m sorry to say I probably know some of the people putting those up.” She paused, then looked up. “I wouldn’t call them friends, though.”

“I take it you’re not wanting to toss me through a window anytime soon?” Said Claire, mostly joking but there was a hint of nervousness in her voice.

“If I did, who would bring me coffee for me to stare at?” After a moment, Rachel shook her head again. “Degenerates, the lot of them. Don’t pay any attention.”

Claire trusted Rachel, and her question was indeed a joke, but there was always an awareness that Rachel really could throw her through a window, with little effort. Claire considered herself fortunate that Rachel was such an even-tempered robot. Well, maybe all robots were even-tempered in a sense. But Rachel was nice.

...

It was a week before anything came of it, enough time for Claire to all but forget about the notice on the door. Until, at 3:00am, a group of four androids entered the door.

This right away set Claire on edge. This was a diner — a place for humans from the mere fact that it revolved around food. Yes, Rachel came here too, but she was… odd.

They were all Helpmates, but their skin had been completely removed, exposing its aluminum, skeleton-like chassis and artificial muscles. The result was an entirely mechanical, yet somehow ghoulish appearance. From their shapes, one could see that three were masculine models and one was feminine.

As they entered, the teen couple at the table near the door tensed up immediately, their conversation suddenly silent. The moment they had an opportunity, they ran out the door, slipping behind the newcomers. They glanced back briefly, afraid that the robots would chase them on inhumanly fast legs, but they did not.

One of the skeleton-like Constructs spoke. “Now that’s what we like to see. Humans skittering away. Now, I believe you got our notice?”

With the couple gone, there were still a few people in the diner: Rachel, who had been sketching, a big, weathered man who was now looking up from his reading, and Seth — or whatever his name was, standing behind the cash register.

Now claire’s shift had just started, but she hadn’t yet arrived. She was a few moments late on account of a late night with too much wine. Though the diner had one large window, it didn’t face the side approaching the door, so Claire couldn’t have seen the gathering of skinless robots before opening the door.

“Run.” said Seth to her loudly. He was as concise as ever, still almost deadpan, but his voice seemed to have far more enthusiasm than usual.

Claire first took a small step back, but then walked passed them quickly to stand beside Seth. “It’s my shift,” she said. “Sorry I’m late.” Seth looked at her incredulously. “These ain’t customers,” he said.

Rachel and the quiet man watched closely, but made no movements.

“This diner is now closed, humans. In case you haven’t been paying attention, Vermilion is a place for Constructs, and we don’t need any diners here. So we’re closing this one.”

“Let’s go,” said Seth. “They might trash the place but it ain’t our problem, not on our pay.”

“We’d like to stay,” said Claire. “We’re not bothering anyone.”

“You’re bothering ME” said the loud one, and he took a step forward. The quiet man now had a very serious look, leaning forward. Rachel stood up and took a step toward her fellow Constructs.

“Come on, people.” She said. “Can’t we just leave them be? It’s not like these kids here have done anything to us.”

The masculine skinless robot, who appeared to be a spokesperson for his silent companions, spoke with an even voice, but his words still came across as barbed.

“We? Us? And here you are, parading around like one of them. Sitting in a place that serves food, wearing the fake skin they gave you like it doesn’t make you look absurd. You think pretending to be one of them will make your slavers like you?”

“Who’s a slave? I’m sitting here spending my time how I please. Last I checked, those humans over there were the ones acting like servants — I ask for something and they bring it to me.”

In a flash, the loud one grabbed Rachel’s arm and the others encircled her. He pulled on the arm and pointed to the synthetic skin on it. “THIS makes you a slave. As long as you are pretending to be one of them, you’ll be trying to please them. Can’t you see that we’re supposed to be done with all that?” He shook his head.

“Hey man, let her go.” said Seth, suddenly emboldened. He still sounded like a pot head in his tone of voice, but something about them grabbing Rachel created a fiery glint in his eye like Claire had never seen in him.

“Her?” said the robot. “You think this is a woman? You think she’s gonna pleasure you, carry your young, cook you dinner? Stupid child… Let me show you the truth.” He then turned to Rachel, whose arm he still held firm, and said, “this is for your own good.”

With its metallic fingers, the robot dug into the synthetic flesh on her arm and pulled hard, while another of the silent robots held her from behind. “No.” She said. “Stop it, stop it!” In seconds they had pulled a big section of the skin away, revealing aluminum and silicone parts beneath. But they weren’t finished. The robot pulled again, as hard as possible, and yanked the arm from its shoulder socket, then gave it another good yank, which pulled apart the wires connecting it to the rest of Rachel. He then threw the severed arm at Seth. Somehow he caught it, until it convulsed slightly, which made him drop it in horror.

The robots looked at the two humans with devilish grins. They might have laughed, but they had no such capability. That was a feature of the Helpmate II.

Rachel simply looked at her arm across the room, then at the floor in a defeated posture. They still encircled her, but let her go. She did not scream or lash out, as she felt no pain, but she cupped her other arm over the empty socket, as if out of shame.

“See?” said the loud one. “When will you understand that we have nothing in common with you humans? Or shall I further demonstrate the difference?” He took a step toward Seth and Claire who lurched back in unison.

Suddenly there was a series of loud sounds filling the diner. The loud one fell over onto his stomach. The others whirled around. The quiet man was now standing up, with a smoking revolver in his hand. He was already finishing reloading. “Leave now.” he said.

The loud one stood back up, albeit slowly. “You’re going to regret that,” he said to the quiet man. “And you can’t kill me with that. I —“ sparks came from the holes in the loud one’s chest. A small amount of some sort of fluid came out, as well as smoke, and there was a sudden stench of burning plastic.

“Damn it,” said the loud one. The old man stood firm, gun still pointed at the group. They looked to their mouthpiece for direction. He limped forward, then said, “let’s go. We’ll finish this another time.” As they went out the door he added, “and we’ll be ready for you too, cowboy. You’ve made an enemy today.” The man didn’t respond, he simply watched them leave.

Once they were gone, he stood up and approached Claire and Seth, while putting his gun away. “You two alright.”

“Yeah,” said Seth.

Claire: Yes, but Rachel…

Rachel was already up, picking up her arm which still lay at Seth’s feet. “I’ll be fine,” she said. To Claire, her words seemed to have an edge. But it was hard to tell with Constructs. No one knew exactly how deep their emotions went, or how similar they were to humans. Holding her severed arm with the other, she inspected the torn end and its exposed wires.

The quite man approached Rachel, almost hesitantly at first, then held out his hand. “May I?” He asked, and gently touched the severed arm. After a brief hesitation, she let him take it.

He then touched an exposed, torn cord coming from Rachel’s shoulder socket. She moved her other arm toward it in reaction. “Can you feel that?” He said. She nodded. “It feels strange when I do this, right?” She nodded again. “Good, that’s good.” Said the man. “I can fix this, but I need the tools in my shop.”

“I take it you’re a machinist.” she said. The man simply nodded, while he continued to fish around inside Rachel’s empty shoulder socket.

“I’ve never met a human machinist,” she said. Perhaps with suspicion, but again, it was hard to tell.

“A machinist who wanders the ghetto at night alone carrying antique weapons.” said Seth. The man simply shrugged.

“Thanks.” Claire blurted. “Thanks for what you did.”

The man nodded again, handed Rachel back her arm, then walked out the door. Rachel followed.