Previously: Glimmer and Starling are arrested by the secret police and moved to the mouldering mansion of the mysterious Zarn. They slip away from their captors but find themselves lost in the meandering hallways of the mouldering mansion of the mysterious Zarn.
Part 001 - Starling and the Unknown Zone
Part 012 - Glimmer and Starling Take a Flight
Starling twisted the kitchen knife in his hands and tenderly slid it between his wrists. The blade warped as it meandered through the tough plastic, but Starling's wrists popped free.
He swung his arms and walked back to the kitchen stairs. "Hear anything?"
"Just lights and conduits, chief."
As he stepped back up to the dormitory wing they'd found themselves in she spoke up. "You're not going to check the refrigerator?"
"I thought you said..."
"I thought you could hear it."
A search of the wood-paneled wall revealed a drawer-model refrigerator, which oddly enough was stocked with fruit. The apples were bulbous and distorted but tasted sweet. He ate three and put one in his coat pocket.
"Who would load a fridge in a disused wing of a dilapidated mansion with fruit?" Glimmer sounded genuinely offended.
"That maid seemed strange," said Starling. "Did you sense anything off about her?"
"I was distracted."
This wing was kept swept and dusted, but the walls were cracked, the windows clouded. The reading rooms they had passed through before had trails worn through heavy dust, but the furniture was immaculately polished. They stepped out into a courtyard dyed orange by the evening light, with dozens of staircases leading to the roof.
A helicopter approached, shattering echoes through the fractal architecture, and they ducked into one of the ground-level doors. The old ballroom, in no better shape than the wrecked chapel they had entered the building through, was attached to what seemed to be a barracks, low-ceilinged rooms lined with bunks.
"This place doesn't make sense," said Starling, voice muffled in dust. Glimmer was silent.
Another hallway lined with dim lights curved away from the ballroom, its floor subtly sloping downwards. At the bottom was a double door, intricately carved, with a gold-framed window on each side. Starling drew himself up on tip-toes to peer through. He caught a brief glimpse of a wide hall set with circular tables before the other door swung open.
He was now face-to-face with a small, well-built man, dressed in a ragged tuxedo, a look of professional detachment on his face. The man pushed his wooden cart all the way through the door, engaged its brake with a lever, and stood at attention, all without breaking eye contact. "May I help you?"
Starling breathed deep. "I was..." He pointed back down the hall and acted like he was having trouble finding the word.
The butler's expression shifted subtly, and his poker face now broadcasted a detached weariness, cursing his fate for being put in contact with someone as stupid as Starling.
"You wandered off during orientation because you thought you'd find something valuable to steal. Hold still." He left his cart and patted Starling up and down the sides, scowling as he found nothing. "Where were you assigned?"
"East wing."
"Where in the East Wing?" The butler sighed. "Never mind. Take the cart."
Starling pushed the empty cart after the butler a quarter of the way back to the top, where he found that a shaded alcove was actually another hallway. "Special bulbs here," said the butler, whose mood seemed to be improving now that he wasn't pushing anything. "We ordered new ones from the city but..."
He waved Starling through a pair of saloon doors. "So many things to do, even without Lord Zarn throwing parties every month. It's a wonder we can keep anything that's not a golf course clean."
They loaded the cart full of boxes and Starling pushed it further down the hall to yet another kitchen. "Monica and the maids and I can just about keep the place from collapsing normally. I want to hire more hands but there's just nobody you can trust." A pair of veiled maids, identical in dress and appearance to the one before, emerged from the banquet hall beyond. Starling caught a glimpse of the doors he'd peeked through earlier.
"Starling." Glimmer's voice was curt and clipped. "Those maids are robots."
He did a double-take. Neither of them showed visible skin under their long sleevs and gloves. Neither of them disturbed their veils with any breath. Their motions were smooth and efficient but graceless, and utterly silent.
"You just noticed? Yes, we're proud of our little robot army, but they're less convenient than they seem." The butler gestured to the nearer maid, who pulled back her veil to reveal a featureless metal plate instead of a face.
He tapped the surface and a flood of numbers and letters streamed from the forehead down, then tapped again to stop it. "You learn their commands and start to think they understand you, then you want them to do something a particle out of the ordinary and they futz out. They're particularly bad at that storeroom."
"I... I have never seen anything like this," said Starling, utterly without guile.
The butler beamed. "They are marvelous!" He leaned in close. "And very strong."
One wiry hand clamped around Starling's shoulder, and the butler's breath was hot on his neck. "I have a friend in the Zarnguard. He told me... they were missing a prisoner."
His eyes were wide and dull, piercing into Starling's. "You won't... leave an old man to prepare for a party all by himself, will you?"
Starling gulped and slowly shook his head.
"Good. We've got a lot of work to do."