Authors: Pauline C. Harris
Tags: #scifi, #android, #science, #high school, #technology, #scientist, #friendships, #creation, #cyborg, #dystopian, #pauline c harris
Published by
Fire and Ice Young Adult Books
an imprint of Melange Books, LLC
White Bear Lake, MN 55110
Mechanical, Copyright 2013 by Pauline C. Harris
ISBN: 978-1-61235-628-0
Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this
book are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of
this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
or by any information storage and retrieval system, without
permission in writing from the publisher.
Published in the United States of America.
Cover Art by Caroline Andrus
Mechanical
Pauline C.
Harris
Drew is an android. From the very beginning
of her existence, she has been programmed by her creators to
understand her superiority and overwhelming responsibilities. She
was created for a mission, a mission more important than anything
she could ever have imagined.
Drew is sent to a high school to observe the
humans and report back to her creators. But when she begins to form
friendships with these humans and starts feeling strange human
emotions, she doubts the creators’ ways of dealing with her and
wonders whether her mission is as wonderful as it once seemed.
As Drew falls deeper and deeper into the
mystery surrounding her mission and her creation, she’s suddenly
left with a choice. Does she follow through with what she’s known
all her life or does she act on what she now knows is right?
For anyone who decides to pick this book up
and give it a try. I wrote it for you.
And,
Mom, Dad and Cliff, for being my
inspiration.
Acknowledgements
Can I just say how insanely excited I am that
Mechanical is actually a book now? But, of course, I didn’t—and
couldn’t—have done it alone. I have a lot of people to thank.
First of all, you, for reading this book. I’m
so grateful to anyone who’s picked up Mechanical and given it a go;
you’re the reason I wrote it.
Mom and Dad, for being my first fans; Mom
always telling me I could do it, and Dad showing me how. Thank you,
guys, for not giving up on me while I reached for a goal that was
probably just a little bit crazy.
My brother, Cliff, for putting up with my
plot line and character questionnaires and dealing with my crazy
writing moods. Thanks for helping me come up with character names
and reading all my books, even though they all contained female
protagonists. (Maybe I’ll write you a
guy book
one day.)
Grandma and Grandpa, for always showing
interest in my writing. When I was little, I always loved the idea
that my Grandpa was an author and I couldn’t wait to publish a book
just like him—thanks for always encouraging me.
Miranda for
being my first friend to read Mechanical and coming back and
hounding me for the sequels. Girls like you are the reason I
write.
I also want to thank every single person who
read Mechanical (or any of my books) and showed their support.
Thanks for encouraging me, but also being honest. Anyone who has
ever read even a chapter of this book has helped me tremendously
and given me the confidence to keep writing.
Thanks to all my lovely friends from SJA who
taught me how to be crazy so I could write accurately about it. All
my characters are wonderfully insane because of you.
Thanks to Sarah, my ‘writing friend’, and
Amie and Katelinn, whom I told about my stories and who encouraged
me to keep going.
Thanks to Teresa Pesce for providing helpful
editing tips and encouraging me in my writing and publishing
process.
I also want to thank Nancy Schumacher and
Denise Meinstad for giving Mechanical a chance, and Caroline Andrus
for making the beautiful cover that I was ecstatic to see when I
got the mock up—like I’ve said probably a billion times, I love
it!
And last but most definitely not least, I
want to thank God for the profound blessings he’s bestowed on my
life. There are no words to describe how grateful I am, and even if
there were, they wouldn’t be enough.
Table of Contents
Preview of "Perfect" - Book Two
Prologue
I looked down at the body that was now mine.
I wiggled my fingers and toes and realized, with some surprise,
that I could feel them. I nearly jumped as a piece of hair fell in
my face, brushing softly against my skin. I had forgotten what it
was like to have hair or any other part of the body for that
matter. Or was it that I had never really known at all? I couldn’t
be sure.
I had long slender arms, and when I stood up,
I saw that I towered over most of the people in the room. As I
tried to take a step, I faltered and saw numerous people come
towards me to catch my fall.
Seeing—this was also a new sensation for me.
So much to take in all at once. The intricacy of how every little
nerve had to be working just right for your eyes to adjust to the
smallest speck of light.
For so long, I hadn’t been anything at all. I
didn’t remember much of the last few years, only nothingness, the
sense of weightlessness and no feeling whatsoever. I wondered if
that was what death was like; if I had experienced some form of it.
For, when the weeks turned into years I had started to think I
really was dead; that no one was coming back for me as
promised.
But all had ended up well for here I was,
alive again, or so it seemed.
The scientists crowded around me, talking all
at once.
“...your mission...”
“...imperative that you...”
“...never do this...”
“...if you don’t...”
I listened for a while, taking in what they
needed me to know, but soon the talk of the mission subsided and
new talk began. Or should I say old? I tuned them out when the
subject came up, for I had already heard it too many times. I
didn’t need to hear it again.
I knew what I was. There was no need to
remind me or sugarcoat it to make me feel better. They acted as
though what I was would be a terrible disappointment to me, as
though it would tear me apart if they didn't approach me in just
the right manner.
I didn’t understand that. Was my existence
something horrible? I didn’t think so; I had never known anything
else. All I had ever known were these people and they were the
strange ones, not I.
I saw right through their fancy and elaborate
ways to explain my existence. I understood what I was and accepted
it.
I wasn’t human, they'd told me. I was made up
of parts; millions of parts put together to resemble human form. I
wasn’t a real person. I wasn’t
really
alive. I was a robot,
synthetic. I was a thing to be used when needed.
I was mechanical.
Chapter One
“It’s so weird...” I said. “Being able to ...
live again.”
Yvonne shrugged, gazing across the large,
white room. “You’ll get used to it.”
The space around us was mostly empty. A table
and a few chairs sat neatly in their spots, and the area was set up
for activities like sports or games. There were drawers in the
walls, white drawers with white knobs. Everything was in its place.
Like Yvonne and I.
I stared at my bare feet, swinging below the
large metal table upon which I sat. Yvonne was taller, her feet
planted firmly on the ground as she sat next to me. I didn’t
remember her being taller, but then again, everything was hazy.
The long black hair I remember her having had
been cut to her chin. It was almost like she had just gone at it
with scissors. The strands were short and jagged, but she still
looked stunning, and although different, her eyes were the same,
sparkling mischievously. Yvonne had always exuded that effortless
beauty.
“Yvonne ...” I started, turning to watch her
expression. “Do you have ... memories? Of us ... as little
kids?”
Her face instantly clouded over, her
expression melting into a frown. “It doesn’t matter,” she retorted.
“We’re machines, we can’t have childhoods.” She looked away with an
air of annoyance.
The memories of Yvonne, suddenly so clear in
my mind, urged me to go on. “But ...”
“The creators probably just inserted
recollections into our minds to help us understand humans,” she
said quickly, still looking away from me.
I studied the back of her head as she busied
herself with inspecting the white tabletop. I couldn’t tell if she
was lying or not, but knowing Yvonne, it was likely.
A door opened and someone entered, his
footsteps echoing loudly through the empty room. We both turned his
way. Immediately, recognition registered in my mind,
one of
us.
He was tall, had a blank expression and pale
skin like the rest of us. I guessed he had just come back, like I
had only a few days before, for he was looking around the room in
awe and seeming to find every detail amazing. But it wasn’t so much
his appearance that set him apart from humans. After all, we were
supposed to blend in. It was the way he acted and how he was
dressed, the situation and circumstances.
“Newcomers,” Yvonne whispered to me in a
mocking tone. “Always so vacant looking.”
I turned to her. “Hey, I was like that only a
few days ago. It’s been years since the last time I was up and
around,” I said, defending both him and myself.
She rolled her eyes, looking annoyed. “No.
Not like you. Completely new.” Irritation edged her voice.
I looked at her with suspicion and surprise.
“You mean, never alive before?”
She nodded, her gaze never leaving the other
android, watching him with a cold, penetrating stare.
Our gazes followed him until he’d exited
through the other door at the end of the room, leaving us alone
once again. We sat in stillness for several moments, the echo of
the banging door slowly diminishing.
“How long had you been shut off?” I asked
Yvonne, shattering the icy silence.
“Much shorter than you,” she replied
matter-of-factly. “They liked me and how I worked.” Her tone wasn’t
boastful, but it wasn’t modest either. Just a fact. A simple
statement.