Guarded By the Clanker (Monster Security Agency #15)

Chapter 1

Sera

I blinked at her, baffled by her tone. She wore her hair in two tight braids, and her mauve eyes glittered with hostility.

She looked human apart from the eyes and fangs peeking between her lips, and yet, too perfect to be human.

Her physique resembled classic statues of the gods. I wanted to be her.

Minus the attitude.

I shivered, my sweaty T-shirt cooling rapidly in the air-conditioned lobby. The space didn’t just feel cold, it looked so, too. Spacious and furnished with light blue marble and white furniture, it broadcasted wealth and professionalism.

I was so out of place here, shivering in my pink jean shorts and scuffed sneakers, my long, purple braid swinging behind my back.

“Why do I have to sign anything?” I asked, hating how hesitant I sounded.

I was normally self-assured, but the recent events did a number on my nervous system. I was overwhelmed, anxious, and constantly battling the urge to look over my shoulder.

They are coming for you.

“Our system has marked you as a risk of the third category,” the receptionist replied, her lip curling with disdain. “That means you might be attacked as soon as you leave, and we’d rather avoid a bloodbath on our doorstep.”

“Your system?” I asked, locking my knees to keep my legs from trembling. “Some wonky AI, no doubt. No one’s going to attack me in broad daylight! I’m a journalist, not a drug cartel queen.”

She eyed me coolly, her perfectly manicured brow arching. “Yes. Which is why I said third category, not fifth or seventh. You have powerful enemies, Miss Evans, which is why you came here. Now either sign or I’ll be forced to remove you from the premises.”

I eyed the biceps bulging under her tight, white shirt to confirm that yes, she was able to remove me all right. Probably without breaking a sweat, too, even though I was fit myself and worked out five days a week.

That woman clearly didn’t like me, yet I couldn’t help but envy her—a little. She was what I aspired to be: strong, immovable, a rock in the face of dissent.

“What are these forms about?” I asked with a sigh of defeat, taking two sheets of paper from her hand. She wore heavy rings that probably doubled as brass knuckles.

“The Monster Security Agency has a reputation to uphold,” she explained.

“We do our best to prevent violence on our doorstep. If you remain on the premises and our systems flag an imminent threat, we may deploy a detail and bill you accordingly. Sign to make it clear you consent. We’re not a charity. ”

I skimmed the forms and signed both, a heavy weight settling in my stomach. It wouldn’t matter anyway, I told myself firmly. No one would attack me openly. My enemies used more underhanded methods.

Which made them all the more dangerous.

“You don’t like me,” I said, doing my best to sound as cool and haughty as the receptionist, and failing miserably. It was probably in the voice. Hers was steady and rich, while mine was higher pitched and prone to squeaking when I was upset. “You hated me the moment I entered. Why?”

She scoffed, giving me a look clearly expressing her unfavorable opinion of my mental faculties.

“Why? You’ve lobbied for years to get my friends lobotomized and killed. I loathe you, Sera Evans. Luckily for you, I’m at work and there are cameras here, but if you ever see me out in the city, you’d better run.”

I shook my head, frowning. Lobotomized and killed? I’ve never supported anything like that. “No, you must have confused me with someone else or…”

“There you are,” the receptionist said brightly, turning to an elevator on the far side of the brightly lit lobby. It pinged, and the door slid open. “Your consultant, Miss Evans. And my close friend.”

I swallowed thickly, fear and anger rising in my chest like two tides about to collide and make me implode. I finally understood her meaning. Of course, she was one of those who thought of… them… as people.

The thing that came out of the elevator was not a person.

It was a machine covered in armor made of dark, matte metal, with eyes glowing blue in its grotesquely handsome face made to look human.

Its body was humanoid and tall, its movements limber and graceful, even though the thing should have lurched and squeaked like a badly oiled contraption.

It moved toward me, and I took a step back, my heart beating right under my skin until I felt sick.

“No,” I whispered, my lips feeling numb. “Please. I… I need someone else.”

The receptionist gave a mean little laugh. “Charlie is our only available consultant at the moment, Miss Evans. Do you wish to leave? Our systems indicate no threats in the area. Leave and never come back.”

I was at the door, letting the hot air from outside blast me as it slid open before the echo of her laughter died down. Here, I stopped, my body coiled with indecision.

The fear that gripped my legs, forbidding me from moving, was greater than what I felt in response to the machine. I was fully convinced that if I left right now, I wouldn’t survive the day.

“They planted a bomb in my car. It blew up right in front of me,” I said, my voice shaking, barely louder than a whisper as I turned away from the door. “Please… I need protection. I have money.”

Barely enough, considering the exorbitant MSA rates, but I was confident I could afford two weeks of their protection. Two more weeks alive. And after that…

“I’ve updated the client profile with an elevated risk of vehicle sabotage,” the machine said.

I jerked at the sound of his—its—voice. It was low and soothing, calming my heartrate even as I struggled to remind myself the thing wasn’t human. The receptionist sighed, rubbing her temple.

“We will not discriminate against you, Miss Evans,” she said, her voice losing that gleeful edge now that she saw me fall apart.

“You came to us and will be served if you wish, but you’ll have to talk to Charlie.

He doesn’t bite—” Her mouth curved in a tiny smirk as she continued, “unless you explicitly ask for it.”

“That’s unnecessary, Adele,” the thing rumbled in a deceptive male baritone.

“I can’t talk to a clanker,” I gasped out through gritted teeth. “I’ll wait until someone else is available.”

The receptionist hissed, baring her teeth. I flinched, but I preferred her organic fury to the treacherously human voice of the machine.

“Refrain from using slurs in my hearing if you wish to keep your blood on the inside.” She growled, tapping angrily on her keyboard. “Another consultant should be available within an hour and a half. You will, of course, be charged rent. It’s eight hundred dollars an hour.”

I winced, shaking my head. “Rent? For waiting in your lobby? That’s preposterous!”

“It’s actually in the form you signed,” she said.

“Some people try to use us as a free shield, since we are well known for never letting prospective clients get hurt on our premises. That’s why if you choose to sit around doing nothing, you’ll pay for our protection.

Or you can go with Charlie and discuss your options. That’s free of charge.”

I exhaled the air in a long, shaky stream and turned to the machine.

It watched me without moving, its massive metal arms held loosely at its sides, its face devoid of expression.

I knew they could emote since they were designed to speak and move like humans.

The only reason clankers were still built to look like machines was thanks to legislation I helped bring about.

Originally, their manufacturers wanted to make them look like real people. As if they weren’t dangerous enough without blending in.

“How can a machine assist me?” I asked in a last-ditch effort. “It can’t think for itself. It won’t have my interest at heart.”

It has no heart, after all.

“I am sentient, Miss Evans,” the thing said in a calm, low voice. “I assure you, your safety and wellbeing are my highest priorities. Shall we?”

It gestured slowly toward the elevator, as if it knew any abrupt movement would send me into a panic. I ignored its outstretched arm and gaped.

“Sentient? But that’s… That’s impossible. I know there are a few cases, heavily debated of course, and inconclusive as of now, but...”

“They are inconclusive only to you.” The receptionist sneered, baring her sharp fangs. “He was tested for weeks and has been officially proclaimed sentient. He’s our third case, by the way. Charlie is a person, and if you won’t treat him with respect...”

“Thank you, Adele. I’ve got this.” The machine gave her a placating smile, and Adele sat down, fuming.

Her irises had a reddish glow now, a clear sign that she was barely controlling her anger.

I clamped my mouth shut and took a deep breath, looking between the clanker and the sunny parking lot outside.

I didn’t really have a choice.

“Let’s go, then,” I said, walking toward my consultant.

I wasn’t convinced sentience was at all possible for the AI-powered clankers. Oh, I’ve heard about multiple cases, as well as one of a bodiless AI allegedly gaining sentience and falling in love with a half-siren. Some of the bots were even granted citizenship, which was ridiculous.

But it could not be true. They were machines and strings of code, nothing else. I’d stay on guard and do my best with the shitty cards Adele dealt me. Beggars can’t be choosers.