Clockwork

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. Nym sat up slowly. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and lowered her bare feet onto the cold, metal floor, then gazed out the window. From this high up, she could almost see the sun peeking through the smog. A pitiful sunrise at best, but still a better view than she had in the Under Belly.

All her life, she'd wondered about what waited outside the metallic walls of the Machine and whether anything truly existed beyond the rivets and steel. Now that she'd actually gotten a glimpse, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, something more waited to be discovered.

Nym scrubbed a hand over her face as the sulfurous cloud consumed the sun once more. Such ideas were fanciful at best. She knew what waited outside the Machine, or at least she could repeat what the banners and posters silently screamed from printed mouths.

Destruction. Decay. Death.

A pounding headache drummed in her skull; the parting gift of seven rounds of Fogger and poor life choices. When the ache faded, she glanced over her shoulder at the Machinist drooling into his silk sheets and sighed. Another poor life choice she couldn't stop repeating. Vacillating between self-loathing and self-preservation, she forced herself from the bed and quickly dressed without waking him.

However many times she told herself she wouldn't come back here, Nym always seemed to find herself knocking on his door. Truth be told, he wasn't all that bad. Not like most Machs she'd met slumming the Mids for Cogs to bring home as part of some twisted game played by bored and horny elites. She'd gotten lucky, or at least did a better job of vetting her poor life choices.

Stealing another glance towards the bed, Nym rubbed her temples, then made a mental note to kick Flynn straight in the balls for dragging her back to Peccola's. Last time, Nym. This has gotta be the last time, she vowed internally as she shrugged on her grease-stained jumpsuit, knowing full well it was a bold faced lie. Yanking up the zipper, Nym jammed her feet into her steel-toed boots, then slipped through the door and out into the iron streets of the Machine.

Outside the Mach's suite, the Machine hummed to life, an orchestra of whistling steam and grinding gears that hammered in her ears. Nym couldn't have imagined missing the sound until she'd woken up without it for the first time in the Mach's bed three weeks back. The perks of being part of the upper echelon of society. Less noise, more space, and more leeway for depravity to get swept under the rug. Nym rolled her eyes as she navigated back towards the service lift.

Doors whooshed open around her, unleashing the tide of violet-clad Machinists. Instantly, she felt out of place, wrong for even daring to breathe the same filtered air. Each seemed to float on their own self-importance, while most barely even registered her existence the moment they noticed the gear tattooed on her cheek. Cogs weren't permitted on the upper levels without earned permission, and those that had clearance were simply ignored, their presence a necessary evil to preserve their comfortable way of life.

But proper clearance wasn't a safeguard against the Enforcers beating her senseless for being Top Side without a yellow card. Seeing as she accessed the lift after hours in a drunken haze, she was grinding gears too close for comfort. Nym had no intention of meeting the wrong end of an Enforcer's baton a second time.

She risked a shallow sigh, her eyes warily darting from one end of the walkway to the other. Everyone had their place in the Machine, from the lowest Cog shoveling shit down in the Dumps to the Machs working in the Brain, everyone had a vital role in ensuring all of their survival. Or so the Engineer liked to point out repeatedly, as though the platitude alone would assuage disgruntled Cogs.

Nym understood this more than most, knowing the heart of the Machine more intimately than she knew her own. She came from a long line of gearheads and tinkers, earning her place among the most skilled Cogs after years of practice under her father's tutelage. But knowing how to run the Machine and the vital part each person played didn't stop her thoughts from souring at the stark differences in the quality of life between the three levels.

Reaching the lift, Nym punched the button for the Under Belly, then shoved her hands deep into her pockets and leaned back against the wall. Though she often worked the upper levels, it was only recently that she began to resent the descent into the greasy, oil stained depths she called home. Even the Mids offered greater luxuries than what the Cogs in the Under Belly could afford. Larger rooms, separate toilets and showers, even a private meal chute if you coughed up the extra tokens.

But those that called the Under Belly and below home were lucky if they had enough room to spread their arms fully apart without bumping into metal. Their "suites" came standard with nothing more than a lumpy mattress, a sink-toilet combo, and a fold-down table that ate up most of the space when lowered. Claustrophobia was a luxury Cogs couldn't afford.

Nym's thoughts returned once more to the window in the Mach's room. In the thirty years she'd lived in the Machine, she'd never even dreamed of seeing what waited beyond the metal walls that kept them safe. Back home, windows were nothing more than shadows drawn from a memory of a memory, the images of the outside world more akin to a dream than the distant past their ancestors escaped from when the world turned sour.

But Nym had joined the elite few who had stolen a glimpse of the outside world. Now that she'd gotten a taste, she could think of nothing else. The only way to continue satisfying that craving was to keep satisfying the Mach.

There's gotta be more than this, she thought bitterly.

"We've got breaking news coming in from the Brain itself." The plastic face of the Vid Box broadcaster grinned into the camera, her face plastered with a permanent smile. Nym lazily focused on the screen.

"Go ahead, Janice," her male twin responded.

Janice straightened the papers in front of her. "The criminal known as the Wrench has struck again. Enforcers are still collecting reports of the various items that were stolen, but all three scenes bear the same symbol on the walls as that discovered at the first crime scene nearly two months past and earning the thief and vandal his moniker. The Engineer gave the following statement earlier this morning."

The lift bell dinged, drawing Nym's attention away from the Vid Box as the doors slid open and the stinking breath of the Under Belly belched into the space around her. She coughed, waving away the steam as she stepped through the open doors and made her way through the warren of steel walkways within the guts of the Machine.

A cacophony of machinery greeted her, reverberating through the walkways until the metal trembled with life. Grease and oil slickened the hand rails, the floors, dripped from the ceilings above, while smoke and steam choked the vents, giving the Under Belly its gaseous smell and hazy atmosphere. Pounding hammers and whirling drills competing in drowning out all other sound, while voices hollered orders and curses alike. Sparks ignited from the depths below while the Machine itself chugged and whirred and belched steam.

Nym wiped the sweat beading on her brow and leapt up over a guardrail down onto the walkway ten feet below to join the crowds that shoved their way to work. She nodded at the familiar faces that greeted her, smiling at the ones she liked and throwing up a finger at the ones she knew better until she found the one she searched for.

Flynn flashed his stupid grin at her and spread his arms wide. "There she is! And here I thought you'd gone and joined our betters for good!"

Nym returned his smile, then promptly punched him in the gut. "That's for leaving me in the Mids last night, you sorry shit."

Flynn coughed and sputtered, doubling over and falling back against the railing. When the fit subsided, he looked back up at her with the same whimsical grin. "You had fun though, right?" He chuckled knowingly. "Oh yeah, I can see it on your face. The eyes don't lie, Nym. Now help this sorry shit stand back up before we both get a wallop for loitering."

Nym rolled her eyes, then hauled her friend back on his feet. Throwing his arm over her shoulders, the pair followed the flow of the crowd towards the Assignment Detail for the day's orders.

"Made it back just in time, Nymmy-poo. Any later and you'd be stuck on shit detail down in the Dumps"

"I hear they save that job just for you," she scoffed.

Flynn straightened and tugged at the front of his jumpsuit. "We all have our place in the Machine," he mocked, mimicking the Engineer's patronizing tone as they walked beneath another banner bearing their leader's face and motto. "Fuck 'im. His shit stinks just like the rest of our. Only thing that makes him and the rest of those purple posers better is they're not the ones stuck wadding through it."

Nym simply nodded, focusing instead on the Engineer's visage looming above them. Graffiti and slurs defiled his image, faded now but their message still prominent. They replaced it six times before giving up entirely, a new splash of insults splattered across it each time.

"You hear the news this morning?" Flynn asked as they approached the counter and exposed their tattooed wrists for scanning.

"Since when do you watch the news?"

A mischievous smile spread across Flynn's grease-stained face. "Since it involves a bunch of Mach's getting what's coming to 'em. One of us gets stabbed in the gut and it don't even make the announcements, but one of them so much as stubs their toe and it makes headlines. Tell me how that's fair."

Nym shrugged. "It's not, but tell me what you're gonna do to change it. We got no one to listen and nowhere else to go, Flynn. Best we keep our heads down and finish our work quick so we can drown our sorrows before starting all over again."

Flynn nudged her with his elbow and lowered his voice. "Maybe your Mach boy can help a bit, huh? Better give it to him...oof!"

Nym slammed her elbow into his stomach to shut him up, then accepted her yellow card from the clerk with a polite smile before trudging off towards the lift.

"See you tonight still?" Flynn shouted after her.

Nym turned and flipped her middle finger up at him. "Only if you shower first."

Flynn winked at her, then headed down to the lower levels. Nym sighed, her hands finding their way back into her pockets as she weaved through the smaller crowd headed to the upper levels. She had Mids today; another shift of hunting for burnt circuits. But even one tripped circuit could cause the whole ventilation system to collapse, choking the Under Belly with toxic fumes. Nym didn't need a banner to remind her how important her job was.

The crowd paused as the lifts filled, waiting for the next one to return. Nym heaved a sigh and let her thoughts wander until something sharp pressed against her spine. Nym started, then froze as a single hand clasped her shoulder. "Don't move," a voice whispered in her ear, his breath hot on her neck. "Don't speak. Just listen."

Nym fought the urge to turn around. She knew the drill. "You're outta luck, man," she replied from the corner of her mouth. "I'm just as broke as you. Gonna have to wait till payday just like the rest of us."

The voice chuckled softly. "I fear you've grossly misjudged the situation. I don't want your tokens. I want to get down to the lower levels and you're going to take me there."

Nym scoffed. "Take yourself, moron. The Depths aren't restricted. Besides, you're at the wrong lift. Maybe figure out where you're going before you try and...ow!"

"I know exactly what I'm doing," he replied, his voice even and chilled as he pressed the point of the knife harder against her back. "I didn't come here for the lift; I came here for you, Nym. You're going to take me down to where I want to go and you're going to do so without a fuss. Fight me, and I'll jam this knife right through your spine, but not before ramming it right through the eye sockets of everyone you care about in this godforsaken trash heap. Nod if you understand."

Nym nodded slowly as her eyes scanned the crowd. No one noticed, no one seemed to hear or see or care. Typical Cogs; blind to injustice, willfully or otherwise.

"Good. Now walk backwards. I'll guide you. Slowly. That's it. Don't cause a scene."

Nym held her breath, willing someone, anyone to turn around, but even those behind her seemed unfazed, focused on nothing outside of their own little worlds. When they reached the back of the crowd, her captor slowly spun her around and prodded her on, steering her down towards the stairs leading towards the lower lifts.

A whistle peeled through the Machine, signaling the start of the work day for Cogs and Machs alike. Anyone caught outside of their designated areas would be subject to punishment if caught by the Enforcers. Nym never wished to be caught more than in that moment, yet as they descended, walking closely, slowly, they seemed invisible, passing beneath the eye of suspicion as though Nym weren't meant to be anywhere else besides the point of his knife.

Inside, Nym wanted to scream. Her body tensed, sharp pain prickling across her back every time she breathed too deeply. His iron grip on her shoulder weighed on her shoulder like lead, growing heavier and heavier with every step down. Her skin slickened with sweat beneath his grasp, hot from his touch and her nerves, but if he noticed, he didn't care.

She took a shaky breathe in and kept walking, willing herself to remain calm. A level head above all else, her dad used to say. That's what keeps the Machine running smoothly. Nym remembered how he'd smile down at her, then pat her head before pressing the drill into her tiny hands and showing her how to care for their home. It wasn't until years later after he passed that Nym understood he hadn't really been talking about the Machine.

Get him talking, she thought, blinking past the sweat dripping down into her eyes. The lower they went, the hotter it got. And it would only get worse once they reached the lifts that traveled down to the lowest level of the Machine.

"So, you gonna tell me what's going on or what? The Depths aren't exactly a holiday spot. There's nothing down there worth threatening me over, you know that right?"

"Shows how much you know, but then again it's not exactly public information, is it?"

Nym swallowed past the dryness in her throat. "What's that then?"

She heard more than saw the smug smile crack across his lips. "You'll find out soon enough, Nym. Here we are now." He pulled on her shoulder, stopping her just outside the doors of the lifts. "Don't try anything stupid. Wouldn't want poor Flynn to have a sudden fall and not make it back up from his shift."

"And how exactly are you gonna do that when you're stuck here with me, huh?" Nym rolled her eyes, trying to hide the tremble in her voice and hands. "You're full of crap."

"I've been planning this a long time, Nym. I have contingencies in place. Don't underestimate me. My reach is longer than you can imagine."

"I don't even know you! And you sure as hell don't know me."

Suddenly, he pressed in closer, his arm snaking down from her shoulder to her wrist while the knife whipped up and around her throat. His lips pressed up against her ear, his breath hot and moist against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. "I know everything, Nym. I know you've been sneaking up Top Side for weeks now, crawling into bed with a Mach whose name you don't even know just to get a glimpse out his window. I know you've worked on every inch of the Machine from top to bottom, just like your father before you, and that you know it better than anyone else." He paused, lips spreading in a sickening smile once more. "Well, besides me, of course. Now be a good girl and scan your wrist for me. Don't worry about the alarms. They've already been disabled."

Nym licked her lips, dread tingling down her spine as she registered the reality of her situation and his threats. No one except Flynn knew about the Mach. She'd made sure of it, and although Flynn couldn't be trusted to zip his own fly, she knew she could trust him to hold his tongue. He was her best friend, but she hadn't even told him about the window.

Hesitating, Nym swallowed hard, then glanced over her shoulder slowly while he thrust her wrist towards the lift's scanner. Something felt... familiar about his voice; the condescending tone, the smug sense of self-assurance. She knew him, but for the life of her Nym couldn't clear her thoughts enough to place him.

The doors opened instantly, and before she could get a clear view, he steered her forward, shoving her into the lift before hitting then manual close button to seal them in. Nym slammed against the wall, catching herself seconds before her face collided with the cold metal grating. Leaping to her feet, Nym quickly spun out of his reach and retreated to the opposite corner, ready to fight him off again.

Only he didn't make a move. Instead, he simply stood there watching her by the control panel and bouncing the knife blade on his palm, his patronizing grin the only part of his face visible beneath the thick hood. He wore the same grey jumpsuit as any other Cog, his steel-toed boots worn and aged from years of toiling in the muck and grease just like the rest of them. With the hood drawn down, his face from the lips up was concealed in shadows, hiding whether he bore the same gear tattooed on his cheek as she did.

Nym wasn't buying it though. He looked like a Cog, but he spoke like a Mach; that self-satisfied smugness irrefutably tainting every word that slipped off his tongue. But why any Mach would disguise themselves as a Cog just to get down to the Depths made no sense. And why would he need her? The Depths weren't restricted to anyone. No one in their right mind wanted to go down there. She was missing something, something important.

"Might as well relax, Nym," he said, breaking her concentration. "We're going to be in here for awhile."

Nym glared back at him, then sank down to the floor, pressing her back and head against the cold metal. None of this made sense, but he was right. They had time. The least she could do was get a few answers before he inevitably killed her.

Get him talking. Machs love hearing themselves talk.

Nym cleared her throat. "So if you know everything, you must be pretty important, right? Unless that was a load of crap, too, and you've just been stalking me."

He smiled in response.

Nym pressed on. "So then what? You're just some disgruntled Mach? Cuz you're clearly not a Cog. You don't smell bad enough to be living down here. Trust me, I know."

A smirk, but nothing more. The knife continued bouncing on his palm. "You might as well talk, Mach. We're going to be here a while, remember?"

The knife paused, his smirk fading as he contemplated her request, then shrugged and slipped the knife back on his belt. "I know what you're doing. Try being a little more direct, Nym. You might be surprised."

Balls. "Fine," she snapped, folding her arms over her chest. "Tell me who you are."

"Someone you already know."

Reactively, she flipped her finger up at him. He simply smiled beneath his hood.

"Try again."

Nym stared down at the floor as she thought. "What's down in the Depths that you want."

"A door," he replied, leaning back casually as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Eyes instantly flicking back up, Nym glared back into the hood, willing the shadows to disperse. She knew that voice! "A door to what?" she continued.

"Outside of the Machine."

Nym barked a laugh, then clapped her hand over her mouth. "There's nothing outside of the Machine," she replied after regaining her composure. "That's why we're in the Machine. To protect us from what's out there," she said, rapping her knuckles on the wall for emphasis.

His smile broadened. "Is that what you really think or just what you've been told?"

Nym froze, unable to answer that question. She'd never really given any thought to that before. Sure, she wondered what was out there just like everyone else, but she'd always assumed whatever it was wasn't exactly good. Why else would they all stay inside the Machine?

Maybe because we've never been given any other option.

Nym studied the hood earnestly, her hardened resolve cracking with honest curiosity. "Is there something out there?"

"You've looked out a window. You tell me."

Nym pursed her lips and glared back down at the floor. She hadn't seen anything outside the cloud of smog, nothing that tempted her to find a way out. And yet something in the way he said it made her instantly believe that was a lie, that something had to be out there worth investigating. Why else go through all this trouble if not for something worth the risk?

Clenching her fists, Nym returned his patronizing smile. "What's out there?"

"Freedom, Nym."

She threw her arms up, exasperated. "Then why the hell do you need me?"

"Because it takes two people to open the door, Nym, and out of all the other people stuck in this place, you're the only other one who's looked outside at the world beyond and actually wondered about the possibility of something more."

His words struck her instantly, ripping open her chest and exposing her most coveted thoughts, her dreams. She wanted to scream, to crawl in a hole and hide from every shred of light that sought to expose her. She wanted to forget she ever saw the window in the first place, to fade back into blissful ignorance. But it was too late for that. Now the only question screaming in her brain was 'how?'.

"I get it," he answered softly. "It's not every day the world gets thrown on its ass exposing all your thoughts and dreams. I'm sure you have questions, but it'll make sense in the end. We're almost at the bottom."

Nym tucked her head between her knees, the rocky jarring of the lift hiding the tremble in her shoulders. Sweat trickled down her neck and back, the temperature steadily rising the closer they got to the furnaces. She shifted uncomfortably, then slowly rose to her feet the moment the lift clambered to a stop.

"Ladies first," he said, sweeping his hand towards the door.

Nym shook her head, fear and confusion giving way to anger and outrage. "Not till you take off that hood and show me who you are. You said I know you, so prove it. Show me your face, then tell me how you know things I haven't told any other living soul."

A knowing smile spread across his lips. For a moment, she thought he would refuse, standing there motionless with the lift doors open, swamping the small space with heat and steam. Then he dropped the hood and exposed his face.

Nym's heart sank down to her toes. She knew his face instantly; it had followed her her whole life, looming on every corner, hanging prominent from every level of the Machine. She'd heard his voice every morning, spouting pedantic rules and hollow encouragement about how even the lowliest Cog had it's vital role to play in keeping the Machine alive and well.

"Holy shit," she breathed, hands flying to her lips. "You're the Engineer!"

He shrugged as if the revelation meant nothing at all. "Yes, yes. Let's move on from that part and keep going, shall we?"

Nym thrust an accusing finger at him. "No, no, why would you of all people try and leave the Machine? You're the reason this whole place is a fucking nightmare! So you better have a damn good reason for dragging me all the way down here so you can sneak out of the hell you created."

To his credit, the Engineer didn't deny it, didn't argue or try and validate his reasons. Instead, he hung his head and stared at the floor. "You're right," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I did create all of this. Every single thing. Including you."

Nym froze, unsure whether she truly heard him right. She stared back at him, waiting for some kind of further explanation, but he remained silent. "You created me? What kind of fucked up nonsense is that? I'm not some-"

"Machine?" He laughed as though her confused pain were some private joke. "But that's exactly the truth. Ironic, isn't it? Machines within the Machine. I think it's rather brilliant. But machines work best when they have a purpose, something to really strive for, and nothing grants a greater purpose than thinking you're human. To live and love and eat and fuck and experience all the pleasures and pains that life has to offer. An eye-opening experiment to say the least." He sighed, then shook his head. "But all of this was meant to be temporary, a test to see whether humanity could ride out the apocalypse. Imagine my surprise when the end of the world actually came knocking, turning my greatest hope for humankind into my own prison."

Nym pressed her hand against her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. "None of this makes sense. I'm not some mindless machine."

"No, not mindless," the Engineer agreed. He laughed wearily. "No, it seems I may have added a little too much of humanity into your programming. I never anticipated things playing out this way. The segregation, the gross negligence and injustices; it wasn't supposed to be like this. But something corrupted the program. The Machinists I chose to run the show under my guidance pushed me out; turned me into a figurehead while they peddled on. Even locked me in my suite once they'd gotten what they wanted from me. It's taken years to get to this point. I even had to steal my own belongings back in order to retrieve my key, fabricating the so-called Wrench in the Machine to distract attention. I'm not proud, Nym, nor am I innocent in all of this, but I'm not going back. I'm sorry it's come to this, but you were the only choice I had to escape. Seeing how you dreamed, how you actually wondered about what possibilities waited beyond the walls of the Machine made you the perfect choice. So please don't make this harder than it has to be. Help me open the door and you can come with me. We'll escape together, just you and I."

Nym shook her head. "You mean leave everyone else behind to clean up your mess? No, I won't do that. I'm not a coward."

The Engineer frowned, then sighed and removed the knife from his belt. "So be it. Door's this way."

Trekking through the grime and smoke, the Engineer guided her towards his hidden door, the point of his blade never too far from her synthetic flesh. Flipping up a small control panel hidden in the wall, the Engineer scanned his own wrist. Instantly, the door to the outside world materialized before them, a small, circular window bleeding light into the hazy shadows inside the Machine.

"Take the key. That'll open the door, but you have to keep your hand on the keypad there to keep it open. Once I'm through, toss me the key and you can go back to your life."

Nym glowered back at him, then jammed the key into the slot. Instantly, the door whooshed open, blinding them in the light that flooded from the outside. Nym blinked, holding her hand firmly on the keypad as instructed. But before the Engineer could escape, shots echoed off the walls. Nym heard the sound of Enforcers boots pounding down the corridor, followed by the Engineer's pained grunt as he stumbled towards her.

Panicked, Nym snatched the key from the slot just as the Engineer snatched the front of her jumpsuit and shoved her sideways, sending her careening through the doors just before they sealed shut.

Nym stumbled out into the dirt, losing the key as she fought for balance, then fell to her hands and knees. Fists pounded on the door behind her, but Nym ignored them, focusing instead on the feel of earth beneath her hands.

The window forgotten, Nym sat back on her heels and turned her face up towards the light shining on her face. Machine or not, she was alive. And now, she was free.