Chapter Two

The light in the cave hadn't been Angela's lantern. While I'd been gone, she'd started a fire with the remains of the branch. After I hung my cloak up in the cave mouth, it was enough to bring the little space up to a temperature where I knew the girls would survive, at least as long as the wood held out.

That could be quite a while. As I looked around the room in the light of the fire, I realized that the cave wasn't some random mountaineer's private cache. Everything here was marked with the symbols of the United States Army. Every box carried the distinctive 'USA' and either a twin turreted castle or crossed sabers. I wasn't sure if this cache was visited often, but if it was, we would certainly be found.

Now if only the Army found us before Cartwright.

***

With everyone secure, warm, and fed, I activated the gears that slipped my control rods fully into my pitchblende chamber. If I put them all the way in and left them there, eventually I would power down, but in a confined space like this I worried about the girls. Forge told me I was safe around humans as long as my shielding wasn't breached, but I had doubts.

I sat quietly, thoughts flowing sluggishly through my cooling brain. The decisions of the last few days had led me here, and I still wasn't sure what they meant. Normally I would go to Gypsy for a reading. With her connections to the aether, combined with her advanced predictive logic, she could give me answers I would trust, but here, now, I was on my own.

Why had I claimed to be a Marshal? Why hadn't I walked away from Mrs. Jennings? Why had I taken Jon Eastman's name? Why hadn't I left Evelyn behind with her mother's body? These questions plagued me, preyed upon my resting mind. It was possible I was becoming unstable. That could be dangerous, even as it proved Doctor Tesla's genius. Only humans could become unstable. Mechanicals either were or were not.

Time slipped by quickly in my resting state. Before I finished my reflections, Evelyn's voice intruded on my consciousness.

"Miss Tina? Are you awake?"

I slipped my control rods just far enough to power my vocoder, audiophones, and optics. "I do not sleep, Evelyn."

"I thought you might want to join us."

I slipped my rods just a little more and turned around to face the girls. A strange frisson of shock ran through me at the change they'd wrought in so little time. A small pot, filled with a brown stew, boiled next to the open flame of the fire. The girls sat in a double ring, little ones on the inside. The little ones sang, the big ones looking at me expectantly.

I wanted to be in that ring. I ached to be one of them, no matter how impossible that was. My eyes locked with Angela's, I dragged myself a few symbolic inches, and smiles broke out across the ring.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Marshal." For the first time since I'd met her, Angela sounded uncertain. When I raised an eyebrow, she looked pointedly at the little ones in the inner ring. Why she did I have no idea, but I deduced her desire from her motion.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Angela, Evelyn, Wendy, Lorelei..." I trailed off. I didn't even know the rest of the girls' names. I'd risked my continued existence for them, and I still didn't know who they were, really. Something must be wrong with me.

"Did you want to say Grace?"

"I don't eat."

Evelyn looked on in confusion. She hadn't made the connection Angela had. To her I was just another person, albeit one with many Mechanical parts. After a moment she shook her head, dismissing the oddity and trying to pull things back into an order she recognized. "You're still the oldest here. I thought it would be best if you say Grace."

I looked on in confusion. I had minimal information on human holidays. I had next to no information on human table manners. I hadn't seen the need. I sidestepped frantically. "I think it would be better if each of you took turns."

Evelyn looked at me, wide eyed. "But I've never said Grace before."

"I never say it much at all," muttered Angela.

Evelyn shot Angela a dirty look. Before it could escalate into a fight here in the cramped space of the cave, I intervened. "So be it. Girls, here is what we will do..." I scrambled for what might be the right ritual before Thanksgiving dinner. The name of the holiday gave me my idea. "From smallest to largest, take turns giving thanks."

"What should we give thanks for?" Angela's question got a dirty look from more than just Evelyn this time. I stepped in again. "Whatever you are thankful for."

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Angela settled with a shrug, then nudged the girl in front of her. The girl seemed annoyed that she'd been picked as smallest but mollified by the fact that she got to go first. Based on the medical texts I'd read, she couldn't be more than six. She closed her eyes and bowed her head before she spoke. "Dear Lord, thank you for this food. Amen."

Variations on that simple prayer were repeated from every girl in the center ring. Two of the little ones spoke Spanish, but the words remained the same. Wendy, the first girl in the outer ring, spoke some other language, one that had the rest of the girls staring at her.

"What was that?" Angela asked.

"Hebrew."

"Oh." The other girls seemed satisfied. Apparently, the group deemed that much deviation from the script acceptable. The older girls, emboldened, began adding things. One thanked her God for the snow that covered our tracks. One thanked Him for her freedom. Finally, there were only three of us left; Angela, Evelyn, and me.

The two girls stared at one another, neither wanting to admit to being junior. Eventually Angela spoke. "So. How old are you, Evie?"

Evelyn's reply was acerbic. I hoped I wouldn't have to intervene. "My name is Evelyn. I am thirteen years old."

"Ain't that strange? So am I. What day were you born?"

"My birthday is September fourth."

Angela's eyebrows shot up, although I could not tell if her surprise was real or feigned. "What a coincidence. Me too."

Evelyn's mouth narrowed down to a thin line. Her brow furrowed, and her face started to turn red. Before she could explode and start the fight I’d tried to prevent, I interrupted the debate. "So be it. Since you two are the same age, we will use alphabetical order. Angela?"

The orphaned girl glowered at me briefly, but after a few moments settled with a smirk and a shrug. She didn't clasp her hands, bow her head, or close her eyes. Instead, she simply spoke, and not with the hushed, reverent tones of the others. "I'm thankful to the Army for setting these here supplies out for us." She nodded toward me." I'm thankful to Marshal Tina for rescuing me. Three times now, really: from freezing, from falling, and from... having to do nasty stuff." Finally, she inclined her head toward Evelyn. "I'm thankful to Evie's mom..."

Evelyn leapt to her feet, an outraged, "What?" escaping her as she did. I'm certain she would have assaulted the other girl had she not smacked her head on the low ceiling. Instead, she found herself sitting, stunned by the impact, in the same spot she'd just vacated.

"I'm not kidding, Evie. I was staring down the barrel of Rodrigo's gun when she shot him. He might have done it, too, just out of spite."

"And why would he do that?"

Angela looked away, her voice going low and bitter. "Because I wouldn't give him what he wanted the last time we stopped."

"Oh." Evelyn was subdued, but not yet satisfied. "You're supposed to thank God for things."

"Yeah, well. I ain't seen Him out here helping. I seen the Army when they pulled me out of what was left of my parents’ wagon. I seen Marshal Tina taking care of those scum of Cartwright's," her voice went quiet, "I seen your mom saving my life. Dying doing it. I ain't gonna forget that, Evie."

Evelyn stared at Angela, respect mixed with frustration in her eyes. I could tell by the minute lines around her eyes, by the flaring of her pupils and nostrils, that she was riding a narrow ridge between anger and despair, but she held it in yet again. She bowed her head, her hands clasped white knuckled before her. Her quiet whisper filled the room with the ever-increasing sound of sorrow.

"Thank you, Lord, for the food in front of us. Thank you for the protector you've sent to watch over us. Thank you for the warm, safe place you've prepared for us. Thank you for every day we've had so far and thank you for all the days you've allotted for us in the future. Thank you for the people in our lives who help us..." Evelyn stopped, her voice overtaken by quiet sobs.

Angela moved to comfort her. At the first touch of the other girl's hand, Evelyn recoiled, scampering across the floor until she clung to my waist. She cried, and I froze. I had no idea what to do with a weeping girl. We sat that way for a while. Her weeping left my shirt damp, my optics just slightly steamed. Eventually the tableau broke when Angela cleared her throat.

"What about you, Marshal Tina?"

I stared across at her, uncomprehending. "What do you mean?"

"What are you thankful for, Marshal?"

I thought about it. I did not believe in the God the others prayed to. I knew my creator was Doctor Nikola Tesla. I knew he currently lay at rest beneath an oak tree on the cliff above our mansion. I knew his only companion was Marshal Jonathan Eastman, the Marshal who had deputized me, the Marshal whose badge I carried. I knew, without doubt, that I would never hear either of their voices again.

No matter how I might yearn to.

Again, I experienced that odd double consciousness. Part of me looked on, shocked, as the other spoke without thinking, words coming from my mouth in a steady, low stream. "I am thankful to my creator for giving me life. I thank him for making me strong, and durable, and sending me with Marshal Jon Eastman. I thank Marshal Jon Eastman for making me a Marshal, for giving me a purpose, and a mission, and a badge. I thank Mrs. Haley Jennings for showing me the path when I was going to abandon it. I thank my sisters for preparing me to go out into the world, and I thank them again for caring for me when I return."

The girls looked at me, something like awe on their faces. I realized it was the most I'd said to them at one time, and the first thing I'd said other than barking orders at them. There, in that moment, I realized how true what I'd been saying was. Doctor Tesla had made me the strongest, most durable self-aware humanoid on the planet. Marshal Eastman, in the moment he Deputized me, gave me a purpose for that strength, that tenacity. I was a Federal Marshal, with all the rights and duties thereof. Right now, it was my duty to see these girls safely to those who would care for them.

If it weren't dangerous for humans to live there, I would be taking them back to the Tesla mansion. Instead, I aimed for the next closest safe place, the Native State of Shoshone. Under the protection of the Native units of the United States Army they would be safe from men like Cartwright. Then, and only then, I could return to the mansion for refitting.

After that, I would start hunting Cartwright and everyone like him like the criminals they were.

I slipped my control rods back into place to be sure the girls would be safe sleeping next to me all night. Before I lost power, I slipped the remains of my arm around Evelyn, doing my best to comfort her. A few moments later, Angela slipped under my other arm. In moments, I was surrounded by a pile of little ones.

"Sleep now, girls. Morning comes early."