Like Clockwork Read Online Free PDF

‘pompous’
sprang to mind. Not bad , she thought, heading back to her apartment,
cupping her smoke to keep off the rain. Pompous works. She should have
thrown the smoke out, thrown the whole pack away, but ten dollars was a lot,
and it’d be stupid to just throw them all away. Pompous, arrogant ... machine .
    She paced back and forth in front of her
building. She glared at the cheery and helpful blue touch-screen beside the
entrance that her Strata felt was somehow worth an extra god knows how much on
her mortgage. Fucking machines. Fuck you too. She watched it. The screen
burbled up nearby cafes, ice-cream shoppes, events-around-town with mindless
good cheer at every chirrup and chime. Yeah, she said to it in her head. I’m chain smoking, you stupid touch screen motherfucker. Care to make
something of it? That was when she shook her head and snorted at herself for
being so wound up. She tossed the half finished smoke into a puddle, and then
moaned that she had. Oh well , she thought, with one last glare at the
touch-screen bleeping in time to the cross-walk’s helpful burbling warble. At
least that one’s out of my house. He’s gone. (Its. Shit) It doesn’t matter.
    But he wasn’t gone. He was actually still
sitting on the couch when she opened the front door, as if he hadn’t moved
since she had left. Parcifal was lounging on top of the couch against his back.
    “Miss Evie,” he said, standing up to let
Lancelot off his lap. He turned with a click and a whir. “Miss Evie – ”
    “I thought I made it clear ... ” she said,
throwing her floppy hat on the shoe rack and tossing her jacket on the floor
beside it; “I thought I made it perfectly clear I wanted you to leave.” She
planted her feet. “Did that not ... what, did that not like compute or
something?” There was something wrong with the apartment. She could sense it.
Right now, though, she would deal with this thing in her living room. It ( if
she was going to be pissed with it, it was an it , she thought) was staring
at the floor in front of her.
    “Miss Evie,” it began again; “This thing.
It has displeased.”
    “Goddamn right you did,” she said, “ This Miss Evie is quite displeased. Don’t you dare judge me in my own house.
Who does that?”
    “It acted – ” a series of clicks. “It was ....”
Evie folded her arms across her chest.
    “Go on,” she said, very softly,
dangerously. “I’m waiting.”
    “This thing behaved ... in an ungentlemanly
fashion.” It looked up at her then, and back to the floor once more. “Miss Evie
was kind enough to offer it shelter, and .... ” It stopped. It clicked.
    “And ... wait.” She looked over his
shoulder, putting it together now. “Did you ... did you clean? ”
    Adam nodded, still looking at her feet. “It
would like to make amends,” it said. “This thing’s behavior was very ....” It
stopped. “Untowards.”
    “You touched my stuff,” Evie said, stalking
past him down the now pile-free hallway. “You touched my stuff.” Adam turned
with her; the whirs and clicks coming from it got quite loud once again.
    “It begs your pardon?”
    “You cleaned my house? ” She opened
the bedroom door. All of her dirty, slightly dirty, clean but ugly piles, and
the rest were gone. “You went into my bedroom? The fuck is wrong with you?”
    “It is sorry,” it said, clicking rather
audibly. “It seems to have offended you.” It paused, and with a creak of gears
straightened its back, looking her right in the eye. “Yet again. However ....” It
stumped one step forward. “It thought, perhaps, an overture of .... ” It
clicked. She could feel it bite its tongue. “Kindness. A favor. Would help set
things to rights. Apparently ....” The words, she could tell, were
stressed by that whir and click of gears, so furious within it. “It has misjudged .
Yet again.”
    “Yeah, well, I didn’t ask you to clean ....”
    “ Miss Evie did not ask to be carried
home intoxicated