Ultimate Nyssa Glass by H. Burke (ebook reader browser txt) 📗

feet, and the robot's head slipped and rolled down the stairs in a series of clanking bangs. Nyssa shuddered and bolted the last several steps into the second story hall.

Spider webs wrapped around her face when she burst through the door. She flailed madly, coughing out the threads that ended up in her mouth.

“You all right?” a familiar chiming voice asked.

Her face warmed. “Yes, just not fond of spiders.”

“Neither am I. Get in my circuits and foul things up with their sticky webs. There’s one on your arm.”

Nyssa yelped and slapped at herself.

A series of snickering chimes radiated from a mirror across the hall. “That’s for saying my humor program was malfunctioning.”

Nyssa scowled at the mirror, only to laugh at the redness of her own face glaring back at her. “You’re awful. So where are we headed?”

“Three doors down to the left. Probably locked, but that room’s not hooked into my systems as much. The Creator likes to keep a few spaces ‘unwired,’ so he can get away from work. So much as an electric lamp in a room, and he’ll start tinkering.”

“Yet that’s where you think your remote access thingy is?” She tilted her head to one side.

“Remote access module, RAM, since you have a brevity obsession. Yes, he may have left it in there. The mirror right across the hall from the study appears to be covered. I can’t get a good look at the door to tell if it is unlocked or even open.”

“Not a problem either way.” Nyssa reached into her satchel for her lockpicks. She approached the covered mirror. “Serve you right if I left you blind.”

“Ah, but then I couldn’t admire your pretty goggles.”

“Flattery, huh?” She tugged away the cloth. The lights raced across the surface of the mirror like water bugs skating on a pond.

“My database says females respond favorably to that.”

“Does it mention how we respond to being called ‘females’ like we’re some alien species?” She raised her eyebrows.

“No, but it does say something about breaking mirrors being seven years of bad luck, so I think I’m safe.”

She clicked her tongue and turned towards the door. A quick try at the knob proved it to be locked, but she’d soon fix that. Inserting her tension wrench then her pick, she began scrubbing the pins. A few breaths later, the knob gave way in her hand.

“I get the feeling you’ve done this before,” Hart said.

“Is your RAM in there?” She pushed open the door and stood back. Her night vision goggles revealed a pair of leather, wingback chairs, a table, and an empty brick fireplace. The entire back wall consisted of bookcases.

“I can sense the signal. If you can bring it back and connect it to the port under the mirror I’ll be able to link my communication ability with it, and you’ll be able to take me with you even if we stray away from the mirrors.”

Something clanked down the corridor, like metal plates slapping together. Nyssa backed up against the door frame. “What’s that?”

The shadows shifted at the far end of the long hall. The noise grew louder, a grinding of gears and the hiss of pistons. It reminded Nyssa of the robotic gardener.

“I can check.” The lights on the mirror flickered out, then lit up again a moment later. “It’s a robotic cleaning unit.”

Nyssa glanced at the dust-covered floor. “It’s not cleaning very well.”

“It probably needs a tune up. They aren’t meant to run without maintenance for long. It’s harmless, though. Just pushing cobwebs around. Let’s focus on the RAM. It’s a square unit with a handle, metal, with a mirror-interface.”

“So basically like a hand mirror?” Nyssa watched the cleaning robot approach out of the corner of her eye. It moved in jerks and starts. It had a cylindrical body, a little taller than Nyssa's, and round head, identical to the disabled unit she’d passed on the stairs, but now an orange light shone through the glass eyes. Its claw-like hands grasped a broom which it shoved in front of it, pushing several collected objects along, none of which Nyssa could quite discern.

“If you must think of it that way, yes. I don’t have access to the lights in there. Will you be able to find it in the dark?”

She tapped the side of her goggles. “Night vision. You’re not the only one with neat tricks.”

When she stepped onto the plush carpet of the smoking room floor, dust billowed up to her face. She coughed, fanned it away, and pulled her blouse up over her nose. The clanking grew louder, but she forced herself to ignore it and focus on the task at hand. The table was empty except for a chess set, half the pieces set aside in a partially finished game. From the near equal number of black and white pieces, the game must’ve been evenly matched. Only one chair was pulled up to the table, though. An antique oil lamp sat next to the game, and the furnishings of the room were outdated, even for a house that had sat abandoned for years.

Cobwebs filled the empty fireplace. She stepped closer. There, on the mantle, between a gold-faced clock and a statue of a reclining lion, lay an ornate object she would easily have mistaken for a hand mirror if not for Hart’s description. The frame around the mirror was thick and covered in minute dials and switches, but it still fit easily in her hand. She picked it up and slipped it into her belt.

A shadow fell across her. She shuddered and turned. The robotic maid blocked the doorway.

Nyssa held her breath. It’s a maid, not a security system. I’m not a dust bunny, so it shouldn’t give me any trouble.

The automaton's eyes flashed at her. Dirt and spider webs choked the broom to the point where it spread as much dirt as it picked up. How many times had this machine gone over this same hall, pushing the same dust and debris?

Go on. Keep sweeping