FIC: [Haven] CLOCKWORK, Chapter 8 (Audrey/Duke/Nathan, R)

[roseveare]

Part 3

8.

The engines of the alien automobile had faded and died on the outskirts of the city, and the memories of that other world seemed to be fading as fast. Even when they had been new, when Nathan had first returned to himself, they had been confused, out of context... but one thing stayed clear and stark in his mind.

He was supposed to be real. Nathan Wuornos was supposed to be a living, breathing human being.

Which meant nothing for him could ever be the same again.

He felt locked into shock as he walked behind Duke and Audrey the rest of the way into the heart of the city. What would it be like to have skin in place of metal plate? To feel, the way living humans did? The 'real' Nathan hadn't been able to, anyway, not now, but he once had, and that thought-- To taste food, to smell? The truth was that there was something frightening and unsavoury about it all, as well as the tantalising promise of a world he'd never known could be his.

He'd... he'd never thought about those things. Hadn't wanted or longed for them. He'd fought to be real as he was, had no dreams of being a real boy. He was what he was, and that was--

But if he wasn't?

At least in terms of their memories, Duke was in the same situation and had asked, twice in the last ten minutes, "What happened after the Rouge crashed?" Neither of Audrey's answers had satisfied him, and he looked and sounded just as lost as Nathan felt.

"You both knew this would happen, or you figured out that something like this would happen," Audrey said, catching Duke's arm. "But neither of you hesitated to come back. It was very brave of both of you. I'm sure it will be okay." Her voice was soft. It softened further as she added tentatively, "My memory's screwed up, too."

"Right. So we're zero for three," Duke grumped, unhappily.

"It's fading," Nathan said, aiming to inject something hopeful. "Maybe we'll forget completely soon."

But Audrey exclaimed, dismayed, "You can't forget! When we were -- when both of you were on the other side -- it was so important to you that we came back to fix this!" She looked distressed enough to make Nathan sorry he'd spoken.

"I just meant that..." He stopped. Duke was frowning at him. "I don't want to be a living person. It's not me."

"And I don't want to be locking lips -- and more! -- with an automaton cop," Duke growled.

"But your letters," Audrey protested.

Nathan's letter, written in his own rigid and heavy hand, seemed to weigh down his inside breast pocket, despite his sensory incapacity to feel it do any such thing. He waited until silence had descended again and the other two had pulled in front of him once more before he took it out. He glanced up often to check that the attention of Duke or Audrey did not stray back to him, and tried to keep his fingers quiet on the paper -- which wasn't easy, when they were still clunky from the damage he had taken.

He re-read the words he had written to himself. It was easier in the pre-dawn grey than it had been to pick them out by moonlight or the alien automobile's strange lighting. The memory of writing the words was still hovering, but it felt unreal, ages old or belonging to someone else entirely.

It started off, I'm not going to want to do this, but as an officer of the law in both worlds, it's my duty in either to work to put things right. It was hard to try and muster argument with anyone who knew how his thought processes worked quite that well.

The letter meandered through a dry description of life as a police chief, a complexity of duties that did, in fact, make Nathan ache to be allocated so much responsibility and faith, a trust that would never be given a machine officer in this world. It continued to fondly describe a two decades long relationship with an automobile that certainly appealed to Nathan's interests, and then made a matter-of-fact statement about being in a relationship with the two people who walked side-by-side in front of him now, something that would only be possible for a being of flesh and blood. The ending paragraphs were a collection of statements to send a shiver through his workings:

Garland Wuornos wasn't some kind of patron, he was my father. Patched up my cuts and taught me how to eat without chewing my mouth when I lost the ability to feel at eight years old.

Audrey. She's immune to the Troubles. I can feel her; that's why her touch tingles like that. She's special, but I don't need to tell myself that in any world. I know I'll take care of her no matter what.

Take care of Duke, too. He's annoying and I know I won't want to, so that's the most important thing I can emphasize here. He's going to make it difficult, but ignore that. See if there's any way to get his ship back, if that's at all possible, too.

And finally: I'm not going to want to do any of this, because I remember being inside my head before we came back to the normal world, but the one(s) controlling the Trouble are almost certainly behind the attempts to kill Audrey. That means they're breaking the law, and also my responsibility to deal with in either world.

Nathan folded the page back over, skimmed the words He was my father again, and returned the letter to his pocket.

Supposed humanity was a deflating thought after all the effort he'd put in trying to be, to the best of his capacity, exactly what he was.

The memories were fading and he did not want to dwell on them. The Nathan who had written the letter was right: focusing on his duty was the best thing, and what he would hold on to. He had to hope that he would be able to perform his duties outside of Heppa. Duke had said that the city they were heading into was Breinor. There were basic treaties in place -- extradition of criminals between the two city states and such arrangements -- but Nathan had never had any dealings encompassing Breinor, and he did not know anything of the status of an automaton there. Only that Breinor was less advanced than Heppa, and so he was not optimistic.

The sun was coming up as they reached the inhabited streets. The question of his status and how the people here would react to him was about to become pertinent. It would have been far better, from his perspective, to enter the city under cover of darkness. No kind of gate or barrier existed at the city limits to keep anyone from wandering in, and the outer reaches of the settlement seemed more like a great, sprawling junk yard than anything else. Even so early, a few children climbed among the junk, ducking their heads up as their thin voices rose and fell curiously at the appearance of the three strangers. The sight of Nathan particularly excited their high shouts and pointing fingers.

He started as a trio of small, dusty figures ran out and circled him, daringly just out of reach, before diving back into the junk piles at the opposite side of the road. If this were a municipal refuse disposal site in Heppa, their being here would certainly be an infraction. If, as he very much feared from the state of them and the hour of the day, they were actually living here, then the infraction was--

"Why are they--?" Three grubby heads, poking over the top of a dented wheel and a battered old door, giggling at him.

"--Not running away in terror?" Duke picked up sarcastically. "Because this is not Heppa. They don't make lawmen out of clockwork here."

Interested, was how Nathan had been intending to finish, but he supposed the answer was probably the same. Automata must be a less common sight in Breinor. He inclined his head dubiously to the children and lifted his hand in a small wave. He frowned, though, at Duke, walking ahead of him with his gaze craned back over one shoulder, still mocking, still bitter. "Do I terrify you, then?"

"What?"

"As a sample reaction," Nathan said patiently, "you must have plucked it from somewhere."

"I'm not eight years old," Duke said, with an edge to his voice, and turned his eyes to front again, ignoring Nathan with purpose.

Not now, but Nathan entertained the idea of him being small, grubby and loose on the streets of Heppa. Those children, unlike these, were always gone fast when they saw Nathan. He did not think Duke the right age to have been so young when automata were first introduced.

The junkyard outskirts turned to smoke-stained and cramped streets, tiny back-to-back houses piled almost on top of one another. From the scrunched-up expressions on Audrey and Duke's faces, the odour was considerable. The cobbles on the street were uneven under Nathan's feet, occasionally tripping him despite the maintenance to correct his rattled joints.

In a way, it was disappointing. The city did not look like Heppa, but there were parts of Heppa that looked like this, away from the high-rise docking towers. The streets there were darker, shaded out by the technological expanse above, hiding criminals and shady deals and squalor, while further out lay the houses of the more wealthy and the great shopping plazas and squares.

This city was merely faded and sad.

They did reach a better area by the time traders were opening shop. Their clothing blended in well enough that it was only Nathan's clockwork form that seemed to attract attention, and the stares were interested rather than hostile. Nathan tried to smile back at the people, and particularly the children, and Duke cast him odd looks.

"What do you suggest we do?" Audrey asked Duke. "You said something about catching a train."

Nathan looked up in interest. He did not remember anything about a train, but Audrey and Duke had talked much on the journey while he was locked in his own thoughts.

Duke was nodding. "There's a main line across land to Heppa. It'll be a longer journey than it would be by air, but far easier and more anonymous than chartering a flight. The trains leave daily, while it could take us days to find an airship ready and willing to take passengers to Heppa."

Audrey said, "We should check the times of the train first thing, and make sure we can get tickets. If there's only one train per day..."

"It depends what you want to do," Duke said, looking over at Nathan. "Heppa's where the people are who want to kill you, after all. If you ask me, the idea that we need to track down and challenge them comes from pretty dubious sources. Plus, Nathan's probably going to arrest you the moment we're back in Heppa jurisdiction."

"I won't," Nathan said. "I know something strange is going on, and those orders are suspect to me now. Heppa is where we need to go to solve this."

"You'd say that anyway," Duke said, "because you want to be able to strut out your police authority again, Tin Can."

"My authority will help us solve this," Nathan said, annoyed, and wasn't sure why Duke let out a loud snort.

"You guys," Audrey cut in, her eyes weary. "We all agreed that we would go to Heppa. You don't remember the things you knew then, and I know it's difficult. Believe me, I get that. But you'd hate it if you could hear yourselves now. Trust me. Trust you. And I know this is going to sound crazy, but trust each other, because you guys, together..."

Duke gave a shudder and shook his head firmly. "Not a chance."

"I'm going to Heppa," she responded, "because I'm choosing to believe in you both, even though you don't believe yourselves anymore. You still have pieces of the memories left, don't you?" She looked between them, sparks of anger lighting her eyes. "You know what happened on the other side of that wall. You didn't forget that, even if you forgot the things you remembered while you were over there. Well, I don't have anything, but I'm taking what you told me and I'm going to Heppa."

"I am, too," Nathan said, venturing closer.

"You don't win any points by that!" Duke griped. "You haven't been marked as a criminal. You haven't lost your livelihood. You're not in danger there!"

"Which hopefully means I can help you both. Your airship--"

Duke scowled and shoved him away. "Don't try to bribe me. The Rouge is gone."

"Even if it's only myself and Nathan getting on the train," Audrey said crisply, "we need to check it out now."

There were signposts leading to the station, and even without those, the moving steam plume of an incoming train on the skyline, and the whistles and the echoing grind of the wheels, the chugging engine noises closer in, would have acted as guide. In this part of the city, the smoke seemed to have left its mark on everything. The buildings were black-stained and even the faces and clothing of the people were coated with that fine dust layer. Only the rich seemed to strut through the streets mostly untouched by a sediment of industry on their clothes and skin.

Inside the station, timetables clearly announced the train to Heppa was leaving at midday. Cars were available with sleeper accommodation, and Nathan didn't sleep, but he had to admit the wisdom of paying for their own private space. Their journey to Heppa would take almost thirty-six hours, in between stops, and their conversation was at the very least going to be peculiar to the other passengers.

Unhappily, Nathan read the list of charges and started searching through his pockets to count his tokens. He'd received most of his funds back from Audrey, but she had probably lost some of them crashing to the deck of the airship, followed swiftly after that by crashing to the ground. He wasn't sure if even before then he'd have had enough for a regular fare in the seating-only cars.

He continued to search empty pockets because, well, it was hard to search pockets with no sense of touch to feel out whether what he was looking for was really there, while Duke pulled a face at the coins sitting in his palm. "We're going to have to acquire some additional finances," Duke said. "There's no way we have enough to even bother thinking about this the way things are."

"How--" Nathan started, then the gears that motorised his jaw ground to a choking halt. "You mean steal."

Duke's hand slapped over Nathan's mouth. "You want to try and keep that down?"

Nathan didn't, particularly, and was about to give Duke a demonstration of how he could still form words with his mouth covered -- sort of -- when Audrey said, "If this world isn't real, then stealing doesn't matter, Nathan. What we're doing is what matters. So it's all right. We won't really be putting anyone out of pocket. We're just doing our duty. Okay?"

Nathan nodded around Duke's hand and was released after a moment with a judgemental huff from Duke, who scrubbed his hand on his pants, as if Nathan possessed biological fluids to have contaminated it. "We need money by noon," Nathan said, ignoring him. "How are we going to do it?"

"Um. You're going to sit this one out," Audrey said. "I think that's probably for the best."

There was an older lady in a dress that made Audrey's look plain -- deep russet orange silk and folds upon folds cascading down from her thighs to her booted heels -- standing behind a gentleman paying for a fare at the desk. Nathan's chest clunked a bit as he saw that the figure standing behind her with armfuls of baggage was an automaton, a more recent model than himself, but at least in terms of crafting the outer appearance, technology hadn't developed enough to make them look much different. It was mostly a matter of picking out the smoother manner of movement which meant the new jointing system was in place, putting him sometime within the last three years. He had a handsome head of hair and a sculpted face. His eyes swivelled to Nathan's, also recognising a fellow machine, but he did not react much otherwise.

"They do have automata here," Nathan said. Because he'd thought, from the reactions of the children and Duke, that perhaps they did not.

Duke followed his gaze. "Right. Rich assholes with their clockwork manservants. Talk about creepy mech fetishes."

Nathan couldn't see what prompted the disdain in his voice. It was true that it was a long way from Nathan's idea of a fulfilling role, but he was used to making an active impact upon the world as a policeman, and perhaps there were worthy aspects not immediately apparent to him. He had, after all, only known his own rigid role. It was probably Duke's disdain for automata in general--

"You're staring," Audrey murmured, nudging him.

Nathan turned his head to the side and stared less overtly. The other automaton was markedly less interested in him, giving his full attention to hanging behind his employer and the man in front of her.

Of course, that was it, Nathan thought, catching himself. She was not an employer but an owner. This automaton was purchased property and not a citizen in their own right. That must be the source of Duke's contempt. Nathan frowned at the privateer, offended. The automaton servant was as real as Nathan was. If he was more advanced, he could be more so. It was hardly his fault where fate had placed him.

Duke's brows swivelled down and he frowned. "What's the matter?"

Audrey's swiftly hissed, "Look," sent their attention back to the party at the desk as cash exchanged hands. The man had taken out a great wad of notes and peeled from it to pay the fare. The rest... Duke and Audrey's eyes, Nathan did not fail to notice, were watching very closely when he stashed the bills back in his pocket.

"I need to get on that train," Duke said, as the man, woman and automaton peeled off toward the platform.

"That train's going to Cavapp," Nathan protested.

"No, I-- I just need a ticket." The party of three was headed toward the standing locomotive, where a guard on the door of the carriages was checking tickets. "I'm not going there. 155 tokens. What have you got?"

Nathan unhappily presented the contents of his pockets that Duke had scoffed at before. Duke was going to get on the train to steal the money they'd just seen. In the confusion and crush of boarding, while man and automaton were arranging the woman's luggage, would be a perfect opportunity. Nathan knew how pickpockets worked. But Duke scraped his tokens up along with those that Audrey offered, and it was going to take everything they had between them so, perverse as it was, Nathan very much hoped that Duke succeeded. He watched the other man dash to the desk and grab a fast ticket, then sprint to leap aboard, flashing the ticket at the guard.

Nathan looked uncertainly at Audrey. The train left at 9AM, and that was very close. There was nobody else now still hanging around on the platform delaying getting aboard, and the guard was locking up, to retreat to the van at the back.

"He'll be all right," Audrey said, although she seemed nervous, and that wasn't improved by the train continuing to show obvious preparations to leave, and then slowly starting to move out of the station.

"Duke!" Nathan exclaimed, dismayed, taking a step toward the train. They had to get on board, get him out. If they were separated--

Actually, he wasn't sure why that would automatically strike him as such a bad thing. Perhaps it was because Duke had just taken all the cash that they had, and the two of them left were not thieves.

Audrey caught his shoulder. "No, we'll wait."

Then Duke was there, standing where the train had departed. He'd emerged from somewhere close to the back, near the guard's van, though Nathan couldn't fathom how. He walked swiftly back to them, his hand on a lump in his trousers.

Audrey raised her eyebrows. "Kind of hoping that worked and you're not just pleased to see us."

"No, we're good. I'm still pretty pleased, though." Duke grinned back at her. "We need to go shopping. Suitcases, nightwear, personal supplies for an overnight train. Better clothes, maybe. Some of this crowd might be a bit more upmarket than I was bargaining on."

"Breakfast first," Audrey sighed, with obvious yearning.

"That, too."

Nathan trailed behind them, feeling like a spare part as they first ate breakfasts and drank teas that he did not partake of, and then as they hit a string of clothes shops. They bought suitcases first, and worked upon filling them as they went. It all seemed so unnecessary. So gleeful and sordid, wasting their stolen money when the clothes they were wearing already should have been adequate.

"No, I-- I'm fine." Nathan raised his hands and backed off as Duke tried to persuade him to buy another outfit. There wasn't time to be properly fitted, but that wasn't why. He watched Duke pick out things that he suspected were for him anyway.

He grew short-tempered as he became increasingly aware of what it looked like, as he followed after them hauling most of the bags. More so still when Duke acknowledged it with a grin and the comment, "I guess your existing style of dress fits that role pretty well," which made him feel foolish and wish that, all this time, he had made different stylistic choices.

Duke, by that point, was clad in a much finer fitted suit, still brown, though the fabric was more textured, and he'd not chosen to go the route of the predominantly grey or black suited gentlemen, keeping to a rustic style of his own. He still looked expensive, and Audrey was clearly enjoying her new dress, even though to Nathan's eyes it wasn't as decorative or as expensive as the other, and he suspected she'd chosen it for ease of movement, which, well, might be a worthwhile choice. But they had also spent a ridiculous interval hanging around in a lingerie shop while she looked at underwear and Duke had grinned around at the merchandise like a loon.

"Shit," said Duke, as he urged them down a street toward what he promised was one last shop. He was eying his new gold pocket watch. "We should have done this sooner. We don't have so long now."

"Let's just make it quick," Nathan grit, and then stared as they stopped in front of a parts shop.

"Your arm's still broken," Audrey said. "We need the parts to fix it."

Nathan must have missed that conversation. He had been beginning to tune them out and look at the unfamiliar city in more detail instead. He supposed he was grateful that they'd remembered, and rationalized to himself that the pieces they needed wouldn't be any more expensive than the tokens that Duke had taken from him to buy that original ill-intentioned ticket.

"We do need to be quick, though," Duke said, a bit guiltily. "Let me take those..." He grabbed the bags from Nathan, letting Nathan and Audrey ahead of him through the door.

The fellow behind the counter in the shop had a strange expression as he answered Nathan's questions and helped him gather up the pieces he needed. They were fortunate to find a spare plate that fit perfectly on Nathan's arm, replacing the damaged one. They were able to dispense with the bandages as they left the shop, though they had not had time to fix the arm's inner workings, and it was unpleasant for Nathan to consider how the new plate must have been salvaged from another automaton so damaged he'd been junked and stripped for parts.

They had more than enough spare screws and the correct gears to complete the arm repair later, and that improved Nathan's mood. He was at least pleased that the bandaging which announced him as broken was gone, even if it had been mostly hidden by his sleeve.

"That guy was a dick," Duke said, strangely angry as they left the store. "Don't pay any attention to that. You're not property."

"We need to get back to the station," Nathan said, and took most of the bags back from Duke, reluctantly, because if automatons were servitors here, then even if he didn't like it, holding up the facade would attract less attention.

They were quieter for the duration of that journey, though they were hurrying. They paid for two separate cabins on the sleeper train and were just in time to get their luggage and themselves aboard before the train started making preparations to leave. Audrey did nothing beyond throw her suitcase into her cabin and follow Duke and Nathan into theirs.

Nathan wasn't thrilled by the idea of sharing such close quarters with Duke, but the fact he didn't sleep rendered it ridiculous to request space of his own, and it didn't seem appropriate to put himself in with Audrey, so he was stuck with it. Hopefully Duke's suddenly less hostile attitude would linger.

Accommodation aside, this should be easy now. They were aboard, the train ran direct to Heppa, and all they had to do was while away the hours in between. Once they were in Heppa, Nathan wouldn't have to feel so useless or be assumed by everyone who laid eyes upon him to be an expensive servant, or worse, accessory.

They had been handed a sheet filled with fine embossed print when they paid for their tickets, which included an itinerary of where the train stopped -- one stop of a few hours, where they were permitted to disembark -- and the times and menus for the food served in the dining car. There was also a note about a bar, with entertainment and gaming later in the evening.

"Picking out whether to have the duck a l'orange or the salmon?" Duke asked. He grimaced at Audrey. "I hate to say it, but it's probably best if I pretend he belongs to me. It's just going to attract a lot of scandalous attention, if a young woman like you..." He grinned at her.

"I can't say I much care," Audrey said, startled.

"No, but it would draw attention," Duke countered, bemused. "We can all just pretend he's my butler. Huh, Tin Man?"

"I don't see what difference it makes," Nathan said, irked, thinking that they were making much out of little. What did it matter which one he belonged to? He was repulsed by the idea of having to belong to anyone at all.

There was one of those sorts of silences that just hung, and then a quiet snort of laughter from Duke, like he was trying to stifle it.

"Don't," Audrey told him warningly.

"I'm not -- seriously, you don't get it?" Duke demanded flatly to Nathan, apparently really not able to resist.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Though the fact it was 'funny' did carry a number of pre-suggested options from Nathan's observations of people's -- certainly Duke's -- sense of humour.

"You know, I wondered why you were so pissy about stealing from those bastards. I mean, hell, I'd have figured them for valid targets so far as you were concerned, considering that you're sentient, so by extension that guy back there should be." Duke's humour had evaporated to a kind of anxious dismay now. "If I say 'high end recreational companion' am I still being an asshole?" He was looking at Audrey's expression. "Shit, someone has to tell him!"

"Sex," Audrey said, her brows drawing together in a little bit of puzzlement herself, like it was more realisation than explanation for her. "You know, I wondered earlier if that was what you were getting at, but... Do they really use automata for that?" She gestured at Nathan and winced a little in apology. "They're all hard surfaces, no matter how pretty you make them look."

"I'm not--" Nathan was still mostly stuck on the first blunt word, but some of his thoughts were the same as Audrey's. "How-- why would they?"

"Well, I wouldn't," Duke said, "so don't ask me. I'm not too sure on the 'how', either, since you clearly--" He gestured at Nathan, who felt oddly removed from the whole conversation. "Well, I wouldn't put my delicate parts near that trap of a metal jaw or--" His gaze travelled lower but fixed on Nathan's gloved hand and he stopped.

Hazy memories rose up, and Nathan now knew Duke remembered the same things he did, though not everything associated with why they should have come to be wrapped together in that bed, in that embrace. Nathan avoided both of their gazes and took himself out of the way to sit in the cabin's single chair. He looked down at his knees and the texture of the floor between them.

"Sorry," Duke said, unbidden, and startling him, added a bit desperately, "Look, if this isn't real, and you are, then it doesn't matter."

"None of this conversation is helping," Audrey said. "Nathan, we'll fix your arm properly, okay? Then we can think about what else we need to be doing."

"Yeah," Duke said, with a note of relief. "Let's do that."

Nathan had felt a little alarmed, but mostly perplexed by the memory of that event in the hotel room -- with Duke -- until now. He'd even taken some satisfaction in Duke's evident horror of having been so intimate with an automaton, for surely it was only a bizarre incident that meant nothing to himself. Now, suddenly it seemed shameful that he had allowed any such thing. He was a policeman, not a -- a --

"Nathan. Why don't you sit on the bed." Duke had his shoulder. "It'll be easier--"

"No," said Nathan. He wrenched his arm away from Duke and very nearly struck him, but got a hold of himself in time.

Duke made an exclamation of startled anger. "For repairs, you bone-headed heap of junk, I'm not making a play for your virtue!"

"Nathan?" Audrey sounded worried. "I can do it if you don't want Duke to. Please. We didn't mean to hurt you."

Nathan had already stopped still. Her concern only solidified the state. "You can't hurt me," he said. "I over-reacted. It's okay." He stiffly sat on the edge of the bed and lay his broken hand down next to him.

After a moment, Duke waggled a finger at his own chest and asked a question with his eyebrows, then when Nathan didn't tell him not to, sank down close by on the bed. He took up the parts and tools they'd purchased from the last shop and started to pry the new arm casing loose again.

Audrey heaved a sigh and flopped onto the chair Nathan had vacated. She held her head with both hands and muttered a small sound of pain.

"Are you all right?" Nathan asked despite himself, looking away from Duke and the inner workings of his hand.

"It's still sore when I touch it. The rest of the time, it's -- I'd almost forgotten." She gave a wry laugh. "It is getting better, I just wish the effects of it would!"

"Your memory's more reliable than ours are, at the moment," Duke said.

"That doesn't help." She lifted her head. "You two... help me here, okay? The freaking out doesn't help me. The fighting sure as hell doesn't help me. You were into each other, and it sucks that this place has done this to you, but you can trust--" She gulped and shut up.

"I really want to trust you," Duke said, voice hoarse and low, and when Nathan turned, he was unsettled to find this statement was aimed at himself. Now it came to Nathan that he'd both stolen the fare for them and then made no more resistance when it came to actually getting on the train, and he had not wanted to go to Heppa at all.

Nathan just nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak. But thinking of being real didn't make him feel happy about anything, so he settled for telling himself to be a policeman. He'd do as he was supposed to, and solve this, even if people thought he was-- Would they still think he was there to service Duke, if he were pretending to be Duke's rather than Audrey's? Considering that he had serviced Duke, he found it difficult to dismiss the idea. Surely, surely people still bought automata for other purposes. He could be a bodyguard or a butler or both and just that.

And if people took the idea that things were otherwise, it was inconsequential. He wasn't even a servant. He was a policeman, undercover.

A metal gear rang against the shell of his arm as Duke fumbled it. He muttered an apology and picked it up, to set it into place securely this time. Nathan sighed and made himself inspect the work Duke had done. He couldn't see any mistakes, but he should have been paying attention.

He focused on watching the gears being put back into functional place inside his arm, one by one, and not on Duke himself. Duke carefully didn't look up at him again while he worked, either.

"How is it?" Duke asked eventually, sitting back, the plate still lying loose on the bed, but the gears inside the arm back in place.

Nathan waggled his fingers. They all moved in time with his command, in perfect sync again, but he still felt completely disconnected from them.