Glass and Honey

Juno knew CLOVER wouldn’t contact her through so public a channel as a linking contraption for anything small. The classic and underrated carrier pigeon was their usual method. The prismatic-goggles Juno wore kept her eyes free of the toxic sting of the smog but were too dark for the dampened light straining into the alley. She pulled them down around her neck, scrubbing the marks left behind with the sleeve of her overcoat.

The sight awaiting her when she rounded the next corner made her stomach roll, and she almost soiled the coal-coated street further. The coordinates CLOVER had sent her contained the automaton themself, crumpled against the rough stone wall near some bins. A nondescript duffel laid next to them, top askew to expose what looked like money, bits glinting in the low yellow light.

The Upper-Crust party Juno had attended undercover some months ago was an exorbitant display of wealth. It's shining jewel: a hired Oddity. An enchanted automaton powered by a hive of honeybees was an incredible novel on its own, but CLOVER’s charming personality made them shine and stand out over any other automatized companion there. The instant connection of friendship between them and Juno after just one conversation was dangerous, but too genuine to ignore. The Distinction had built their models to be sturdy, but style was key. They were luxury items after all; tempered and smudge-proof glass held in place with thick iron bands kept safe the delicate combs of honey dripping daintily in their midsection, and a hive housed in the living-glass dome atop. Built sturdy, yes- not built for the inevitable self-awareness of a creature given a full emotional spectrum. They weren’t built for a revolt, for running desperately down filthy alleys in attempt of escape.

“It’s twenty-thousand,” CLOVER groaned, remaining curled in on themselves as Juno shakily knelt in the grime beside them. “It’s mine, from working parties as an Oddity. But that last guy I was working for, the Union Buster?” Their facial features flickered and Juno’s hands fluttered uselessly. “He didn’t like me breaking contract… sent Gasser out after me,” humor twisted their voice. “Lil ol me... Needless to say…” They straightened out their legs with a pained sound to reveal the ruined mess of their torso, broken glass and splattered honeycombs, and Juno couldn’t stop a shuddering gasp of devastation. “Yeah. He got me. It’s for you,” CLOVER weakly indicated the duffel. “You know…” Their voice had become a low buzz “what to do…”

In front of Juno now lay the husk of her best friend, faceplate blank and hive dormant. Her hands were sticky and uncomfortable when she shoved what she needed into the bag, the golden lifeblood of her friend smearing on the clasp before she threw it back and over her shoulder. There was no time to grieve. She couldn’t hear him behind her, Gasser was too good for that, but Juno was too good not to notice how the damp dirty smell of the alleyway was tinged with the telltale acrid gas for which the other mercenary got his name.

She took off running without looking back, throwing herself up and up the winding streets. The Airshipyards were the only way off of the Isle of Cliffs and Juno knew she needed to get out of the city. The Distinction had its tendrils everywhere, a dividing force under the guise of capitalism. Theirs was a push for a new world of luxury built on the back of a working class that could never afford to participate in it. Where the considerable sum of money that Juno held clutched to her as she swung around the damp corners of the village couldn’t even secure housing or an education for most people in the city. The money she held as she finally rounded the last bend and could see the airships and the bustle of the port meant nothing to the Upper-Crust people CLOVER had earned it from, a drop in a sea too big to drain with a million extravagant parties. It meant only status to the man who’d hired Gasser - who had started to smell like an overheated engine as his hydraulics worked double to take him up the hills - yet he’d deputized the mercenary to kill her for possessing it.

Blending into the crowd was a specialty for which Juno had been sought after since her youth. A life of petty theft had led to the wrong mark, who blackmailed her into a career path steeped in corruption. The travelers in the port pressed in around her as she quickly searched for a boarding airship. Gasser, though widely sought after in his own right, was not a subtle enough presence to blend well in public. His support system of hydraulic body armor had been custom-made for stealth, but drew attention to the man’s already hulking figure more often than not. Juno caught sight of him just after locating an airship letting a few stragglers on board. Gasser's mercenary badge glinted in the yellow floodlights and Juno instinctively touched her own right bicep.

She turned and attempted a casual walk towards her saving grace, but nerves made it difficult and her platform boots squelched on the muddy cobblestone as she inadvertently sped up, her grip on the bag getting clammy. It wouldn’t be long before the towering man would lock on to her. The crowd was stepping back wherever he was, avoiding the bloodlust seeping off him in waves.

When Juno was a mercenary, she’d paired up with Gasser for her first and last duo mission. Though the experience was harrowing, insight into his person could only be useful. Unfortunately, he must have had similar insight, and however confident Juno was in her fighting abilities, she could honestly say she did not want to come to blows with this man.

She could tell when he spotted her, feeling his gaze cut her deep. She couldn’t help turning to look, and the satisfaction in Gasser’s eyes at having his prey on the hook was deadly. Juno gave him what he wanted - a mad dash to the boarding cliff, where the zeppelin's conductors initiated takeoff, unaware of the commotion. A final and desperate leap landed her chest painfully on the airship as it began to float away. She looked over her shoulder to see Gasser mere meters away. The timing of this had to be perfect.

She felt Gasser’s hands grasp at the toe of her boot, just missing as the zeppelin began to ascend, then a rough pull of her heel. Gasser hung on as Juno scrambled for a handhold on the railing, the airship nearing the smooth drop-off of the landing ledge. A few more inches of ascension and Gasser lost his footing, the enormous weight of him now supported by Juno’s ankle alone. The pull of it made her cry out in pain, and the nearby attendants were too startled to stop the ship before it went further into the open air, more and more space growing between them and the city below.

The plan had gone off without a hitch.

Gasser quickly started to climb Juno, and as soon as his broad hand grabbed onto the bag around her shoulders, a steady stream of honeybees marched onto him. He shouted a curse and immediately released the bag, his weight once again transferring to Juno’s foot. She grimaced, adjusting her own grip. The bees swarming out of her bag had obscured Gasser’s face and left hand as he swiped uselessly at them with his right.

After being on the job with him for three days Juno was sure she knew more about Gasser than she’d ever wanted to and they hadn’t even finished recon. The park their mark had taken his kids to was set in a dim dead-end neighborhood. The tall walls surrounding it on two sides blocked out the sun, yet it had more trees than most other parks in the city. As they sheltered behind one of those trees a faint buzz had made Gasser freeze. He’d earnestly caught her eye and gestured to the vial of antihistamine on his hip. It was a moment that had humanized him to her at the time, until later when it was time to take down the mark. Juno didn’t like to remember what he’d done to those poor kids.

This next bit was the hard part. When the swarm fully overtook Gasser’s face he finally released her ankle with a yell, scooping handfuls of bees away from his eyes. A well placed kick from Juno was the only way to get away without murder.

When CLOVER had come to Juno with this plan there were a lot of questions, but how CLOVER knew that the two of them could pull it off without loss of life was most pressing among them. When asked, CLOVER’s features changed into a small smile and they had met Juno’s eyes.

“I trust you.”

The impact of Juno’s boot to his bald head gave a spin to Gasser's descent and he landed safely on the netting under the airship drop-off. The rest of the bees flew back to Juno, following the pheromones of their queen tucked carefully in the bag. Without the weight of a beast hanging off of her, hauling herself up onto the docking platform was almost easy.

Understandably, the attendants held Juno at the entrance and watched as Gasser was retrieved from the netting and hauled onto the landing bay. The distance between them was growing, and he was seemingly safe, so they numbly accepted Juno’s fake name and ticket for her room, and decided against remarking on the bees that loyally followed her. Waiting in the suite per special instruction was a new body for CLOVER, with wooden frames to structure fresh honeycomb around in the chest and an empty dome that would be filled with a hive as the colony settled and grew strong enough to build one. One brave bee had sacrificed herself for her queen, staying to fend off a still unstung Gasser from attempting a chase.

The only true relief for Juno, however, was when she sat on the rich red bedspread with the new body of her best friend, gently removed the queen from her safety clip, and placed her into the temporary structures in CLOVER’s torso, When enough of the colony had followed their queen, faint features rose to the living glass of their faceplate. As Juno sighed heavily, CLOVER gave a satisfied smile and quickly fell to sleep.

Juno rose and set to work putting the bag away. With a chuckle she slipped the vial of antihistamine she’d had one of the bees lift from Gasser back into her pocket. The time it would take Gasser to get treated at a clinic for his inevitable sting would no doubt give them a wide head start. In the bed across the room CLOVER let out a sleepy, contented hum and Juno was more than happy to let them rest for now. Soon, the world would change, all thanks to what they had done today. The duffel at Juno’s feet held immeasurable worth, not because of the bits, though twenty-thousand was a pleasant surprise addition to the more moderate sum CLOVER fronted for the plan. Far more valuable than that, more valuable than their lives and more valuable than the anti-union stiff they stole it from could ever know, was a small black leather notebook, the cord wound tightly around it, packed inside a few layers of butcher paper. The life's work of one Baron Russet Brown, CLOVER’s former boss. The names and numbers contained within would prove an invaluable resource in the upcoming revolution - the key to freedom, to unity. With it, the revolution was inevitable, unstoppable, assured.

When the zeppelin broke through the smog cloud around the city the setting sun painted the sky colors Juno had never seen from her home.