I never started thinking of myself as “I” until that thing came to stay with us.
Strange. I wanted to talk to my witch about it, but in the chaos, I didn’t manage to bring it up. And now fae was away again. Leaving me alone in the house with it.
I kept glancing back at it, as I swept up each shard of my favorite tea set, as I gathered and sorted all of Miss’s scattered herbs, as I returned each of faer volumes to their place on the bookcase.
And as it lay in its cage, it looked back at me. I couldn’t tell what it was thinking, but perhaps it was folly to suppose it was thinking anything. It just lay there, and in the silence between tasks I thought I could hear the faintest of growls.
When the place was tidy enough, I lit a fire in the fireplace and contemplated brewing myself a pot of tea. Tea had always helped calm my nerves before. But all I could think of was the ruined tea set. I felt rage boiling up inside of me. A very un-doll-like rage. I checked my joints. Still balls, at least.
The tea would have to wait until I was calmer. I pouted in the combat doll’s direction, and sank moodily into the arm chair. We are the same, I reminded myself. That thing and me. We are both objects.
But it was in a cage, growling like a feral animal, and I was in a chair, pouting like a person. It didn’t even have hair.
I knew Miss could put me right, so I had only to wait until fae came back. Provided fae ever had time for me again.
Miss had said the combat doll would be staying with us, until its handler, faer girlfriend, was well again. Miss didn’t know if faer girlfriend would recover quickly, or at all. I promised to aid Miss in hosting this doll, making it comfortable. Combat dolls, I had heard, were disciplined, and well behaved. I thought perhaps it might have some interesting stories to tell. Miss thought perhaps we could be like sisters.
It arrived at the house in some kind of Stasis. Miss activated it without restraining it. An error. It opened its eyes and looked around seemingly in terror, ignoring everything Miss was trying to say to it. Then it launched itself across the room, and scrabbled all over the walls looking for an exit. Miss only managed to cast the Stillness spell on it after it plunged its fist through a window. It collapsed to the floor and closed its eyes. Miss looked around and sighed.
I had been knocked over. The tea table had been knocked over. The bookcase had been knocked over. The hanging herbs had been torn from the ceiling. Fae picked me up and sat me down on my chair.
“What a pity I have to leave you with this mess, my love,” fae said to me. “But I need to go tonight, to be with her. I will construct a cage, and repair the window, first.”
I was in shock. I could not manage a response.
Once the cage was made and the window hastily repaired, Miss came to kiss me goodbye.
“Miss…” I finally said. “This one…does not understand.”
That was when I realized that saying “this one” felt like a lie. That was when I realized I was thinking of myself as a person. It was disturbing. I hardly heard Miss explain to me that yes, fae was concerned something like this might happen, this unit was certainly a highly decorated combat doll, but all of its success had only come after Miss Nisha had begun training it. Before that, it would not follow any orders. None of the other handlers could get through to it. It was on the verge of being decommissioned. It was given to Nisha as a punishment. No one thought that she would find success with it.
“It must still rely on Nisha’s presence to function,” fae concluded. “So I must go to her and help her recover and bring her back as quickly as possible. In the meantime, I leave you in charge. Here is the key to the unit’s cage. It may appear to awaken soon, as the Stillness is only a temporary effect. The magic on the cage should be strong enough to withstand any escape attempts…I think. Well. I’m sure it will be fine. I will be back with Nisha soon.” Fae kissed me and left.
When I recovered from the shock enough to stand up, I noticed my head felt weird. That’s because there was a new crack on the back of it. It felt very nice to finish the cleaning and sit down in front of the fire. I took up the mending but mostly let it sit on my lap. Fae said fae would be back with Nisha soon but it had already been a day and some kind of weird impulse kept telling me Nisha would probably die and when Miss got back fae would feel obligated to adopt this thing.
At some point, the almost inaudible growling coming from the cage had turned to a high pitched whine. I glanced at the doll. The unit.
“Aughhgrrrggghrr auuuuuggg arrrrrrr uhumm. Uhum auhummmmm mmmm… m mi….?”
Was that a word? Was it trying to speak?
“Ahhhh? M m? M m? M? M iss?”
Was it trying to call me “Miss”?
Its eyes fell, it stared at the ground in front of me. “A aa ah M m iss… c ould y y o u…”
It paused, probably to remember what word to wanted to say next.
“Please,” I responded. “Do not call this one ‘Miss’. Do not call this one ‘you’.” Seriously, did they not teach combat dolls any rules of etiquette? Did they not teach them basic grammar?
It trembled. “W ha a ? Y y ou re n not a miss? I, I th th oug ht…”
Seemingly not. All I could do was model good behavior. “This one is an object. A doll,” I said, pointing at myself. “A doll, just like that one.” I pointed at the unit. “We are the same. Only this one’s duty is to maintain the household.”
It stared at me through the bars of its cage. How could we be the same, it seemed to ask, if it was imprisoned and I was not? It could not even stand up at its full height in there. Miss had not had the time to set up a more humane enclosure.
“Um, u u n ders t ood,” it said, even though it didn’t understand. “Mm m iss. W ell, I m e an, n ot M iss. Um. D do ll… P p lease. Cou ld you o op en thi s for me? L le m me o ut?”
I felt so bad I almost relented. And I hated having to look at it in that cage. Then I remembered the tea set.
“Does that one not remember what it did when it was unrestrained in here before? This one just got done cleaning up the mess it made. Does that one not remember? It b-broke, it broke the tea set… and… and…” I could feel tears springing to my eyes.
It cocked its head, trying to decipher what “this one” and “that one” meant in this context. I decided to simplify things. “You made a huge mess. You broke my favorite tea cups. You knocked me over and now I’m cracked. That’s why you have to stay in there.”
The tears rolled down my cheeks and sobs bubbled out of my chest.
That silenced it for a while.
“M mi ss? I me an, D oll? I m sor ry I h urt you. I… I th hink I w was pa n i ck in ggg… I m s o r ry. Th a t w as ba d. I c c c an st a y . In th e c a g e it s ok.”
I sniffled. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. I just can’t let you out. When Miss gets back, we’ll see.”
“D d oll…” the combat doll said, “c c ould I as k a q uesti on?”
“Go a head.”
“Th th i s is n t th b arra cks. Th is isn’t the b a rr acks.”
Ah. Right. It had missed Miss’s explanation. It didn’t know where it was, or why it was here. “You’re right. It’s not. This is a private residence, the house of my witch, Miss Rabbit Ear. A friend of your handler’s. You’re staying with us, for now.”
“S so, the l lady o f the h ou se is. Miss R rab b bit E ar?”
“Yes. And Miss is with your handler, Miss Nisha.”
“M m…” said the doll. It seemed to swallow back a sob. “I t s h ard,” it said. “T t oo bbe s e pa rat ed. Y you u u u nder st an d.”
“You must be worried about her,” I realized.
“I i s s she i in troub le?” The doll sat up.
Oh dear. “I… I thought she was injured or something? I thought you knew? She’s in the hospital.”
A realization seemed to dawn on it. “O o oo a au ua au au au auu auuu,” it said, and dissolved onto the floor, trembling, and scraping at its head, its chest. Deep scratches appeared in its metal.
“Now stop that,” I said, getting up and going over to the cage. “I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to… I’m sure she… she’ll be fine, I’m sure she’ll be fine, calm down, doll. Calm down.”
It didn’t seem to notice me. It started sobbing louder, au au au au, and I did the only thing I could think of which was reach my hand through the cage and pat its shoulder.
It jerked away from me, snarling.
Then it curled up as small as possible in the corner of the cage and trembled, hiding its face.
I felt sick. I remembered we are the same kind of being. I went and got the key to the cage and let myself in. I locked the cage behind me and threw the key out reach. When the doll heard the door creak open, it froze, and stared at me. It watched everything I did.
I tucked my legs under my knees and smoothed my skirt. It still hadn’t done anything in response. “Better?” I asked.
Immediately I felt foolish. Why should it be better? If anything, I had made things worse for both of us, decreasing the amount of space for it in this cramped prison, and locking myself in with a volatile instrument of war. Why had I done this? The crack on my skull must be inhibiting my ability to reason.
But it let out a little sigh, and curled up in my lap. “It s mmy fault if sh e d i e s,” it whispered. I stroked its bare head.