The air by the river that trickled along the outskirts of the village was fridge now that night had fallen. All the same, Bobby-Jo found comfort observing how the water rippled around rocks and cascaded down each rise and bump in its path. She recalled what her father always said about the old warriors of the Labyrinth. Mighty bulls and she-cows impervious to cold or heat of any intensity. Able to plow through scores of foes with the ease of plowing fields.
The only Minotaur in town who even came close to what she imagined those ancient warriors to look like was the chief himself. It was no accident that he was one of the youngest chiefs to ever take to the position in their recorded history. A true Minotaur and a fast expiring breed.
As if to add insult to injury, she chose that moment to sneeze, the violent tremor shaking her whole body. Bobby-Jo slid off the rock she'd been perched on. There was no point catching a cold while trying to act tough. Whatever her intentions had been, she'd majorly screwed up today. It was time to go home and hope for a chance to ask the chief for forgiveness.
"Little sister! I thought I told you to go home."
Bobby-Jo nearly leapt out of her hide at the sound of Rory's voice. Even when on all fours he towered over her, materializing at her side like a phantom. There was a tightness tugging at each of the corners of his snout, creating an expression that rivaled the chill of the riverbank.
The young she-cow's ears wilted instinctively as he came near, lowering her head in submission. "I-I wasn't up to anything I swear. I just wanted to get some air!"
"By slipping past the guards."
"There's a hole in the fence behind my house. I didn't think it'd be an issue," she sputtered, wondering just how much trouble she could manage to dig herself into in one day. "You're not going to pen me in, are you?"
"No. I wanted to ask you to go up to ol' Emmett's house. But if you'd been where I'd told you to be, I wouldn't have had to go looking for you."
"Sorry, chief."
"I'll join you in a little while. Go home and grab whatever you think you'll need to spend the night."
"Aye." She gave a swift nod, as he departed. Although part of her had itched to ask what it was all about, it didn't feel like the right time to press her luck.
Though that didn't stop her imagination going wild on the long trek back up the hill to her house. Did it have something to do with that borg she'd brought from Sensible Flats? Was she trying to make demands? Ones that had to do with Emmett? And now the chief had sort it out somehow.
She was shaking like the last leaf of autumn by the time she got back to the top of the hill and the space in the fence she'd come out through. Her overstimulated nerves caused her to twitched as she squeezed through the narrow space. She tucked her tail in as the fence's jagged splinters brushed against spine. The soil beneath crumbled as she struggled to find footing, finally managing to scramble out with all the grace of a beached seal.
"You look like the cow that was got by the 'gator," her mother chuckled as BJ stumbled back through the entrance of her family's cave.
Like all the other's in the village it was carved straight into the rock and led down into several smaller caverns, each fashioned for a different purpose. She walked past her mother in the kitchen who was busy hunched over the hollowed out section of the wall that served as a rock oven. As always, the smells coming from within were utterly mouth watering. But BJ wasn't in the space to appreciate them today.
"I'm going up to Emmett's house, mama," she announced as she made a beeline for her room, a smaller cavern not much bigger than she was, with enough extra wiggle room to get comfortable. The ground of the nook dipped down slightly, creating a cup in the stone that had been filled with hay. Discreetly stored underneath were an assortment of tools, screws and bolts.
"At this hour? He'll be asleep won't he?" the cow asked as she scuttled after her daughter, watching from a distance as Bobby-Jo wrapped her belongings and a fistful of hay into a parcel.
"Rory- I mean the chief, asked me to spend the night there."
"Doing favors for the chief?" Her father's voice rang from somewhere deeper within the burrow. "That's my girl. The ol' bull needing one of your tune ups?"
BJ brought the two ends of the parcel around her shoulder and waist until they connected in the middle of her chest. "Yeah. Right." She chuckled, pretending to be preoccupied with the herculean task of tying a knot.
It wasn't totally a lie since she intended to do just that while she was there. Provided the borg intruder didn't make herself too much of a nuisance. All the same, she found herself wanting to avoid her father's gaze as he came up the hall.
As she turned to leave again, her mother slipped a carefully made bundle into the chest pocket of her overalls. "Off you go then."
BJ raised a hoof to the pocket, feeling the familiar and comforting texture of her mother's spiced butter cookies inside. Even the thought of their taste was enough to get her mouth to start watering, though tonight, she felt as though she did not deserve them.
The trudge up the hill to Emmett's house seemed to take an evening in itself. A screenplay's worth of dialogue streamed through the Minotaur's head as she soldiered up the cliffs to the secluded cottage.
Would Rory already be there? What would he say? And what about the fancy looking borg? What was she after? Some kind of payment? Well that could the village elder have to do with that? What did she?
The thought of putting her family into debt put a cold lump of shame in the back of her throat. For a moment she found herself envisioning a scenario where he was called. As if an act of charity would even interest someone like him.
If there was one thing good about the malevolent reputation the Minotaurs had garnered with the rest of Cyberspace, it was that borgs usually left them alone. Alone to floundered in the middle of a barren wasteland maybe, but all the same. Could the same be said after tonight?
When she at last spotted the cluster of cacti that hid the old cottage, the joints in her legs were stiff from the tension held within. She debated with herself going around the side and peering in at the window to try and assess how much trouble she'd be in but decided that with her luck it would only end up backfiring somehow.
"Alright, here it goes," she sighed, tightening the bundle around her chest.
After a few jiggles, the door to the cottage opened and she entered the foyer. A faint stirring came from the living room. Someone had sensed her arrival.
Swallowing a lingering sense of dread, BJ crossed the threshold to find the woman, now very much conscious and seated in an armchair beside a still sleeping Emmett. Her dark hair was tightly wrapped in a bun without hardly a strand out of place. Her poise too was disciplined, with the same severity of an old schoolmaster.
"Are you the one I should thank for my prompt delivery?" the woman asked.
The she-cow had subconsciously kept her head lowered since entering the room, in the same submissive posture as she had held for Rory. She didn't know quite what to make of the vigilant stranger other than to be cautious. It was as her gaze began to slowly drift upwards however that she began to see something different.
The borg's eyes hid something softer than BJ had expected to see. They reflected mischievous light that seemed contrary to the rest of her. It puzzled her while simultaneously succeeding in coaxing speech.
"Yeah. And what of it?" she huffed. "What are you doing here?" The last thing she had expected was to find her in the house with Rory still absent from the scene.
"The same thing you are, I gather. I was assigned to watch over Pop Emmett until the return of your dutiful chief."
"Oh, yeah? And what are you trying to talk him into? Whatever it is, you won't get a thing from us."
"If a knock over the head is what I'd get for stopping a robbery, I shudder to think of the outcome were I to start one." Despite BJ's confrontational attitude, the woman continued rebutting her with an almost rehearsed carelessness. "I'm afraid you've formed quite the unfortunate impression of me," she went on. "All I've asked of your chief is information and he graciously attempted to provide."
Bobby-Jo snorted in disbelief. "What, you tried to get ol' Emmett to tell you a story?"
"Tried and achieved at no less than a hundred to one odds. Although I'd still like to gleam through his cartographic repertoire myself before I go."
"His what?"
"Collection of maps." She gestured for BJ to approach and sit in the chair beside her. Still uncertain of the stranger's presence, the she-cow instead went around the other side and knelt beside Emmett.
"Is he okay?"
The question caused the woman to hesitate for the first time since BJ entered the room. Her mouth hung slightly open as if she were ready to speak, but choosing her words more wisely, elected to remain silent after all. "I was hoping you'd be able to give that answer," she said finally, after a long pause.
Bobby-Jo reached for the old Minotaur's forelimb and peeled back to metallic flap with a screwdriver. With the circuitry exposed, she gently pitched a wire between her hoof and tried to estimate the amps per second she felt flowing through.
It was times like this she wished she had some more reliable equipment than just her clackers. She wasn't calibrated to be a mechanic. Nor had she been to any official schooling. Her only credentials were the books Rory brought back with him when he traveled.
She sighed. At least she could be fairly certain that his current wasn't anything out of the ordinary.
"Seems normal," she reported, then stood. The woman looked up at her from her seat, lips pressed, still holding onto silence.
As BJ tried to decide whether it would be worth it to ask her to speak up, or if whatever she was holding back was best left unspoken, she sensed someone come in through the front door. Turning to the doorway, she nearly lept as Rory entered.
"Sorry, chief!" She cried on reflex, without really knowing what she was apologizing for. With the way her day had gone, it just seemed the safe bet.
"Slow down there, little sister. It's all right." He carried himself with the calm of someone who could walk away from being struck by lightning, unphased. "If you've already checked on Emmett, I'd be much obliged if you could get some kinda dinner going."
BJ slowly nodded. It was impossible to tell if she was really in the clear or he was being especially mindful to keep his head. Rory had never been one for bombastic displays of rage, but that didn't stop his long stares of reserved disappointment from stinging any less.
"Aye, chief. He don't seem none too outta sorts."
She glanced back at the sleeping bull. Wondering if it was really alright to just let him go on like this. If she only still had the part she'd swiped. If only she hadn't been caught. Maybe she would have been able to come up with something.
BJ glanced at the woman a final time, willing a quick expiration of her warranty before retreating towards the kitchen.
"It's strange," said Ada as two of them were left alone in the room. "That this is the first, I presume, anyone in the village has heard of Emmett's tale." As if to remind them of his presence, the old bull started to snore.
"Gossip has a way of spreading like the plague in the village. We might not have known the real details, but that doesn't stop tall tales spreading."
"But why not set the record straight? If this train was responsible for his partner going missing, it might have been judicious for him to issue a warning."
"He probably did. Before I became chief, there was a council of elders in charge of the village. Emmett would have told them everything when he got back."
"And they chose to keep it a secret?"
"They'd barely finished digging out houses for everyone. You can judge in hindsight, but at the time the villagers were a scared and restless few. The council's main interest was to try and keep us all together and they couldn't do that if everyone believed in some mysterious threat."
"And have there been any unexplained disappearances between now and then as a result?"
"Everyone from our village has been accounted for. There are enough worries inside these walls for anyone to worry about what's happening outside them."
Fortuitous, it seemed. But Ada knew that such things didn't occur out of plain luck. There must have been a reason for why this train only appeared to people in the Badlands. What must its purpose have been? Common sense said that trains carried one of two things. Passengers or freight. But on a site as barren as Sensible Flats, with only two towns that wanted nothing to do with one another, what use would it have to serve?
"If only Marbles had, had more sense." She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to keep the emotion from surfacing in her voice. It hadn't been there before, but Ada had felt it come over her like a wave upon uttering his name.
"Excuse me." Despite her efforts, her throat gave a slight quiver. She allowed herself to sit in silence for a space, aware that Rory had started moving about in the periphery, but unaware of what the bull was busying himself with.
Why would Marbles, a borg as knowledgeable on the workings of Cyberspace as she was ever be possessed to board such a specter? Of course there was always the chance he might not have. But if that were the case— well, suffice it to say Cyberspace would be in a lot bigger trouble.
When she finally turned her gaze back to the center of the room, she realized he had brought out a stack of maps and books that had been in the study. He had found a seat at the opposite end of the tea table and had begun to sort through the load.
"If you're willing to lend a hand, I want to have a second look through some of these records."
Ada nodded. It surprised her he had been the one to suggest such a thing. She hadn't expected such an investment from the bull, but was nonetheless grateful for it. The topography of the land was still a stranger to her and she would have had significant difficulty attempting a perusal on her own.
"What were you hoping to uncover?"
"The last route he mapped. It might be a bit of a stab in the dark, but trains run on tracks don't they? Even Phantom ones."
"Perhaps they run on phantom tracks," suggested Ada, who had never encountered a phantasm of any sort and so had little practical knowledge.
Rory nodded. "So if we go back to where Emmet encountered it, we might find some kind of clue."
"How odd."
"What?"
"You know, earlier I was thinking much along the same lines. In fact, I think if we try and recreate his encounter, the odds of us discovering the secret of this elusive locomotive will be rolling very much in our favor."
"What do you mean by that? There some trade secret you picked up while working for Motherboard?"
Indeed there was. In a world like Cyberspace where everything occurred as a result of algorithm based calculations, most events were based on a predictable series of actions and reactions. In other words, repeating actions yielded repeated results at a much higher probability than they would on Earth. But concepts like these were not ones to be shared idly.
"Like your fellow Minotaurs in the field, I don't work for Motherboard. I simply happen to work at Control Central," Ada responded simply. She reached for a rolled up parchment on the tea table and attempted to look over it for a date.
"That's the second time you've used my words to avoid answering a question."
Ada sighed. "The welfare of Cyberspace is something I hold above most other things."
As right as he might have been, the security of the Cyberuniverse had to be preserved. If things were so simple, the task of employing a reliable technician would not have been dragged out so long. There were just some things they couldn't risk sharing.
"And Motherboard is what to you then? A friend?"
"I would consider her such."
Rory scoffed. "She does seem to like her Earthlies."
And what was his point in saying that? Ada had a feeling she knew, but her pride would not allow her to acknowledge so.
"The word in Sensible Flats is, as I recall, not only that you are man-eating beasts, but that you've thrown your lot in with a certain rogue borg."
"Do you believe every piece of gossip you overhear at the watering hole?"
"Only the ones that are true."
"And you know what's true, do you? From being here less than a day?"
Ada stretched her neck out like a particularly regal giraffe. "I'm more observant than I might seem." She was prepared to offer further retort when the young cow clattered back into the room.
"Scoot, scoot," she cried as she tried to squeeze past Rory and reach the table. In her hooves was a bowl of various chopped fruits. "Got a rabbit in the oven, but it'll be a while."
She glanced between the two of them, seeming to sense the awkward situation she'd stepped into. She made a gesture as if she were about to exit, before rethinking having to wedge herself between Rory and the adjacent couch a second time. Instead she fumbled within the pocket of her overalls and pulled out a neatly wrapped bundle which she handed to the Minotaur chief.
"For' I forget. Ma made a batch of her famous sugar and spice."
Rory gingerly took the cookies while fixing her with a dry stare. "I do. But I didn't ask you to drag your poor mother into this just to butter me up."
"I didn't do no dragging, chief. You're just in luck today."
Although their conversation had been cut off, Ada had yet to say all she had to on the topic. She waited until she was sure they'd finished before pointedly drawing herself up. The gesture caught Rory's attention and he shifted his gaze from the confectionary back to her.
"You wouldn't be the first one he's betrayed. Or lied to," she said. "Whatever promises he's made to you or your village, I can tell you the odds of him delivering are an utter wash."
She looked into the bull's eyes, trying to read into his thoughts. Rather than get angry, his expression had, if anything, dulled. His native eye, distant, as if what she had to say couldn't have less to do with him. But in the other, the vulture's eye, she detected something more sinister, a mocking twinkle, catching her in a fool's game.
"Then it looks like we're playing at different odds."