When the Countess of Lovelace stirred back into consciousness, she found herself laid across a couch in a warm country style drawing room that smelled of shepherd's pie and wood incense. The cozy atmosphere filled her mind with a fog that threatened to pull her into another round of sleep.
With the realization she was in the home of a stranger, Ada rubbed the tiredness from her face and hastened into a seating position. The memory of the villainous borg continued to plague her head like a bed of ivy. If her, likely bovine, captors were really in his pocket as the patrons at the saloon seemed to believe, it would only be a matter of time before he came through the door.
She released a sardonic chuckle. There was that old Byronic streak of misfortune showing its hand. If only she could escape it, maybe she wouldn't be in the situation she was now. Scandal had a way of being drawn to her, as it had to him. Although her late father tended to lead it by the reins.
Ada put a hand to her abdomen as the dull ache from her lower regions made its first threat to return. She reached for the vial hidden in her dress, her fingers still clumsy from weariness. The tip of her tongue brushed along her parched lips. How long had she been out?
Looking around for a clock, she observed the simple elegance of the room she'd been placed in. It couldn't compare to the grandeur of a British country house but was not lacking in fineries of its own. The first thing that caught Ada's eye was the portrait that hung above the mantle. An oil painting in a bronze frame depicting three well dressed cattle, their fur crème colored with ginger patches.
Ada pursed her lips, any doubt in her mind about where she was quelled. She was drawn to alertness by the sound of heavy footsteps on the other side of the door. Having nowhere to run, she remained seated, closing her fist around the vial still in her hand, and bracing herself for a rude reunion.
A moment later, a Minotaur, easily three times the size of the one she had seen silhouetted on the wagon, entered. Its face was broad and had a masculine quality to it. The floorboards beneath his hooves trembled as he lumbered towards her. To her surprise, he didn't look much like any of the cattle in the portrait, his fur being more of a blueish gray hue.
He walked on his two hindlegs, using his forelimbs to carry a tray laid with various sliced fruits, a muffin and a glass of water. This he set down on an end table at the Countess's side.
"It's good to see you up."
"Is it?" she replied airily, tilting her head up to meet his looming gaze. "That must have been why I was beaten halfway to the next life."
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the Minotaur lowered himself to the ground at her side. But even with the reduction in size, he was still quite a bit taller than her seated posture.
"We didn't intend you no harm. You just surprised us when you leap into our cart."
Despite his docile way of speaking, on his face were all the signs of a battle hardened creature. One of his horns had been broken in half and underneath it, a glowing red eye. Ada flinched as she noticed the gears inside the lens of the eye turn, like a microscope that was being focused.
It was much more transparently mechanical than the warm brown eye on the other side of his face. But more than that, something about the gaze that peered back at her, that cold and inscrutable distance, was disquieting and familiar. Compared to the mild, meadow grazing cow eyes she'd seen before, this was the eye of a vulture.
"Implying you were the one who hit me on the head?" she said, pointing her chin in the air. "How I failed to notice you standing behind me I do not know."
She expected the Minotaur to start arguing or even become enraged at her defiance, but he remained calm. "If you feel ready to go, I'll call a cab for you."
His tone was so curt and dismissive that for a moment Ada was baffled to silence. "And the stolen parts?" she asked, not willing to let him shelf that particular elephant.
There was silence as the bull's eyes narrowed. Ada could see hints of anger creep out through the downwards curl of his lips. She braced herself to avoid an attack, but after another moment, his expression had slipped back to neutral.
"Yours to take."
Ada blinked. This was not at all what she'd expected. Instead of putting up a fight, he seemed to want to be rid of her at the earliest date. And where was his 'Boss'? Ada wasn't naive enough to believe the situation wouldn't eventually reach his ear.
"And who are you?"
"They call me Rory. Chieftain of these parts, I suppose you could say."
"So this is an attempt to correct the folly of your herd." Ada reached for one of his hooves and shook it for him. "Ada, Countess of Lovelace. I will overlook this if you can provide me aid. I'm seeking a friend of mine. Dr. Marbles. I believe he's gone into your Badlands."
The ridge above the Minotaur's eyes furrowed, finding objection in Ada's proposition, but unable to offer a counterproposal. "Whatever you've heard, we avoid the Badlands as much as the borgs do. Not much out there for anyone."
"And what of this supposed train I've heard talk of?"
The Minotaur took the wet rag which had fallen into her lap and folded it neatly in his hooves. "A train?" He sounded more surprised than confused. "Unless you're interested in old yak's gossip, there ain't much I can tell you."
"I'm interested in everything."
The Minotaur's focused eyes grew distant. To Ada, it seemed as if he was searching his drives for a memory. After a moment of silence, he rose. "I'll see what information I can get. But in the meantime, I think you could do with more rest. I don't reckon you're feeling too good by the looks of ya."
He exited through the same door he'd come, leaving Ada on her own once again. The Countess had half a mind to go after him, were it not for the ache which still ebbed at her. The vial that was hidden in her clenched fist rolled limply around on her fingers when she loosened her hand.
Ada had intended to take her physician's recommended dosage back at the saloon but the robbery had interrupted those plans. She reached for the glass of water Rory had set down and added a few drops of her chemist's concoction inside. Its flavor was potent yet, by this point, familiar. The bitter flavor was a welcome trade off for the quickly subsiding pain from her lower regions.
Once she emptied her drink, she stood and exited after her host. The house was as large as Ada expected from the condition of the drawing room, though, from the lack of a staircase in the foyer, it seemed to all be on one floor. Not knowing in which direction the bull had retreated, she decided to follow the sounds of giggling from across the hall.
A child? Or rather, a calf, if they were speaking of Minotaurs. The light, tinkling sound brought a gentle smile to Ada's lips as her mood somewhat softened. She couldn't help being reminded of her own children when they were younger.
As she came to the opening of a door, she was startled by two small calves practically trampling over each other as they darted out. One of them stopped halfway down the hall to shoot her a momentary glance with round and curious eyes. It was colored crème with patches of reddish orange, very much like the animals in the portrait.
"Hello, there. How do you do?" Ada said, not quite sure if she should offer a handshake or try to beckon it forward like a cat.
Before she could decide, it had scampered off after its sibling. Ada smiled and proceeded through the door they had come. There she found Rory washing the cyberplasma off a limp rabbit. Running around the kitchen at his heels were three more calves making a game out of tossing around a potato.
"Settle down now. Your mother'll be along in a while to make you dinner.
"Where are you going, dad?" asked one of the rambunctious youngsters.
"Up to town to see someone."
"Is Grandpa Emmett coming to dinner?" The calf's ears wilted. "I don't want him to. He's too old and he always spills soup on me."
The bull let out a puff of air through his nostrils. Ada could see he wasn't much fond of this conversation. "He and your old man are just gonna shoot the breeze a while. I'll be back by morning."
"Okay." The group sighed before trotting on all fours after their departed siblings.
"A charming little things," Ada said by way of announcing her presence in the room. If he had noticed her before, he had made no indication as he continued his work in the sink.
"They are," the Minotaur agreed, his gruff tone one of a protective father. A warning for her to keep away from the topic.
"As much as I appreciate prompt action, it's rather a late hour to be paying social calls, isn't it?" she remarked, as a point of curiosity more than anything else.
"He's an old friend. One I'm hoping will be able to tell you something about your train."
"Sounds a most promising lead. I'll accompany you if you don't mind."
He looked puzzled, to say the least by her miraculous recovery. Ada preferred to say no more of the matter so she took the lead outside before he could stop her. It was only when she stepped outside, that she saw the sun had nearly finished its descent into the hills beyond, turning the heavens into a fiery palette of oranges and purples.
Rory quickly joined her out through the kitchen's side entrance. The air was surprisingly chilled and Ada could even feel goosebumps start to form along the sides of her arms as she followed Rory up the hill towards the little town in the distance.
The road they were on was a sloping incline that snaked along the hilly terrain for a considerable distance. On either side were acres meticulously tended to pasture land. Looking closer, she could see workers finishing off their day's toils and heading back up to town, barrels filled with crops slung over their shoulders.
"Does everyone in your village work for you?" Ada asked.
"They work for themselves and their families. Everyone brings home their share. My wife just provides the land." He seemed guarded on the topic, just as he'd been when she'd mentioned the calves.
"I'm afraid, I'm unfamiliar with your history."
Rory quirk a brow at this admission. "You said you were looking for Dr. Marbles weren't you? Don't they teach you this stuff when you sign on with Motherboard?"
Ada shrugged. Things got a bit complicated when one had a time machine. According to the Cybersquad, the corresponding Earth year to her current position in the cybertime stream was 2005, yet she had only lived about nine years worth of days in the intermediate. The creation of Sensible Flats was an era she'd skipped over.
Certainly a dubious way to go about things, but one she'd deemed very much necessary. She wasn't going to be around forever after all. And what good would all the work she'd already put in have been if Project: Cyberspace petered out once she was no longer around to manage it? Ada was not content to simply exist a while and make room for those who would come after her. She wanted to leave a legacy.
"My expertise lies in other areas," she replied at last.
Rory grunted. "I'm sure it does. So if you don't mind I think I'd prefer to keep my herd's private business private. If you want a history lecture so bad, you can ask your Motherboard once we're done here."
Ada frowned. His demeanor when he had first introduced himself hadn't been what she would describe as warm, but his mix of forthright and evasive responses had her stymied.
The Countess picked up her dress as she hurried to keep pace with him. Being much bigger than she, one of his massive strides was equal to three of hers taken quickly in succession.
"It's going to take all night for us to make it up there and back like this," Rory grunted, dropping down on all fours. He gestured for Ada to climb aboard with a tilt of the chin.
"You want me to ride you?" she almost laughed.
"I'll make sure you don't fall," he said, misattributing the source of her amusement. "A better trip than you'll get on those horses."
"Of that you'll have a hard time convincing me!" He succeeded in winning a chuckle, whether or not he had intended to. His tone made it so clear he couldn't see the problem that she found herself leaping aboard with almost childlike enthusiasm.
She did however, upon mounting, immediately begin drawing mental parallels to receiving a piggyback ride from a particularly open-minded butler. Ada could not but confess to herself at feeling some girlish thrill at the experience. She wondered if this was what it felt like to ride a pachyderm through the jungles of the Indies.
At the end of their path was a wooden gate constructed of massive pikes each several times Ada's height. A bovine holler from Rory and the gate parted just enough to let them through.
"Evening, Chief," mumbled the two guards that stood inside. They each seemed to raise a brow at seeing Ada, but restrained from verbalizing their curiosity.
"Evening, fellas. Keep up the good work."
The Minotaur village was constructed along very different lines to the transitory wooden buildings of Sensible Flats. The houses were carved into the side of the cliffs, their bright orange rock still tepid with the heat from the day.
A smile came to Ada's face as she spotted a small herd of calves, mucking about in the dirt. Each determined to use the last of the day's light to make the task of bathing them as challenging as possible. There was something else about them which seemed to catch her eye. But before her consciousness could put a finger on it, Rory had passed them by.
Her chance to resolve the inquiry was not lost however, as she looked ahead of them on the road, there were several other calves, slightly older, seated by the side of the road. One missing a hoof, another a tail. Their mechanical parts, exposed at the empty joints.
What had happened to this town?