One month later…

  Even though Rob did not possess emotions, he had a sense of pleasure upon Jo’s return to House of Figs. It was not that Bethany had not done a remarkable job in her absence, running House of Figs, braving the fictional worlds across the thresholds in the Observatory and dealing compassionately but justly with Gar’Dian’s attempt to recreate his world in penance for destroying it in the first place.

  It was true that in the beginning, Bethany had not demonstrated confidence, nor had she invoked a sense of competence in her role. While others might have been scathing in their appraisal of her lack, Rob was aware of things in her past that were derailing her confidence from what Jo had said about her. He also knew that, just as it had taken time for Jo to trust all of them in turn as they emerged from their books, Bethany also required time to trust.

  And yet she had done marvellously in a difficult situation.

  However, Rob observed her relief to have her aunt back at House of Figs.

  The café and the ‘discipleship’, for lack of a better word, of the guys from the books came directly from Jo’s dream and passion. Bethany was happy to work there as a waitress without the responsibility of the café, the books and indeed the entire world resting on her shoulders.

  And Rob also observed that everyone else was relieved that she had returned.

  Bethany had been a peer and, at times, a romantic interest.

  Jo West was a mother.

  Despite the ages of them all, ranging from Bastian’s thirty odd year to Eustace’s millennia, they all looked to her as their authority and guide.

  Yes she taught them how to do their jobs and would claim they had far and away surpassed her knowledge with their own research and creativity.

  But it was her lessons about life that they truly soaked into their bones.

  She loved them and made House of Figs a sanctuary.

  Eustace would wrap his arms around her in an embrace without reservation. Bastian’s hugs were side on and firm. Rafael would allow her to hug him, his body all angles and stiff and Faelan would take her hand, look into her eyes and almost dip his head in a bow.

  Rob did not require physical touch but Jo didn’t leave him out either, taking his arm or resting her head on his shoulder now and then.

  With her back at House of Figs, his world was once again complete.

  But it was also a little…crowded.

  Not only was House of Figs complete…it had new additions to its world.

  There was Adela, Rafael’s sister who had also once been a vampire. After the attempt on her life in Atannica, it was decided she would be safer in the real world, beginning to comprehend life as a girl growing up and not as a vampire eternally stuck at eleven. Abram van Helsing was a frequent visitor when the clocktower in Atannica aligned and he was not engaged with lordship duties. Rob observed that Jo was glowing with joy at his attention, their courtship proceeding slowly but surely.

  There was also little James, Eustace’s water dragon son who presented as a five or six year old boy with white hair and blue eyes. He moved between the real world and his dragon home world, in the care of his father or Luna who had emerged from the dragon world two months earlier.

  However, it was Annie who had been the most surprising and yet, the least trouble upon her arrival. She possessed intuitive programming which allowed her to see a need and then fill it. Rob’s programming had only ever been activated upon using a code word or phrase. If he hadn’t been called upon, he just stood in a corner and had done so for months, observing House of Figs when he first came through. It had taken a long time for him to find ways to develop subroutines that would not be overwritten or denied by his original programming. Instinct was not instinctual. He had none. He wasn’t lazy or stupid but if he had witnessed a sink full of dirty dishes, Rob wouldn’t have thought to do anything about it.

  Annie did. She slipped into the role of dish washer with ease and enviable intuitiveness…

  …at least Rob would have envied it, if he had emotions with which to do so.

  However, Annie always deferred to his judgement and guidance.

  Even when Jo returned to House of Figs, Annie’s preference was for Rob to direct her.

  “Perhaps she simply recognises how far you’ve come and wants to lean into your experience?” Jo replied when Rob ‘queried’ her about Annie’s partiality. “Luna understands the world better because of Eustace’s knowledge. If a werewolf or elf turned up, I would never presume to step between them and Bastian or Faelan.”

  “Query, why not? Your methods have proven most effective in the past.” Rob said as he folded washing and picked the basket up.

  Jo put her hand over his and squeezed it warmly. “Because a good mother doesn’t coddle her children so that they always depend upon her. She gives them tools to become parents in their own way.”

  Rob followed her towards the house. “Query, is it your intent that you equip us to the point where we are removed from your care?”

  “Oh Rob,” Jo cupped his face and looked into his brown eyes, “never. I’ll always be a mother type of figure to you and the others. I’d never abandon you…but I also don’t want to shackle you. If you ever wanted something more or different…”

  Rob put the basket down and took her hands. “I am not shackled.” He paused. “I would say that I am happy with my life…but I cannot experience that emotion. Perhaps the best I can muster is…I am content.”

  “I’m glad,” Jo smiled, “and don’t worry about Annie’s fixation on you. I think she’ll settle into the family perfectly well.”

  Christmas was a very pleasant time at House of Figs. Rob had experienced five of them before. This year was his sixth. It was Abram, Adela, James, Luna and Annie’s first Christmas. They marvelled at the decorations and were baffled by the stockings that hung from the banister of the stairs. They helped hang the green boughs and decked House of Figs out in all of its seasonal splendour, after which Jo stepped back, wiped her hands and declared,

  “I do love Christmas…but I am so glad it is a ‘once a year’ celebration…there’s so much clutter!”

  All the tables had miniature fake trees in hessian sacks and there was a giant jar of candy canes on the counter which was a guessing fundraiser. Rob was forbidden to participate as he could calculate the amount of candy canes easily. It was good to see the donation jar filling up as the customers made their random guesses, recorded on a sheet so that the winner could be contacted and win, not only the entire jar of candy canes, but lunch for six at House of Figs.

  The large Christmas tree was a standing order from a pine tree plantation and arrived during the last week in November. The popular bay window table and chairs location was sacrificed to make way for the tree. It could be seen from the street and its lights and beautifully decorated windows were a welcoming sight. Empty boxes, wrapped with Christmas paper and adorned with oversized bows filled the space beneath the branches. When House of Figs closed late on Christmas Eve, the fake presents would be moved out to make space for the family gifts.

  Among the guests on Christmas day, there was a nonfiction couple, Koen and Dorothea Braam. They were House of Figs neighbours on the right when facing the building. Koen was very unwell due to pancreatic cancer. Their family was mostly moved out of Glenwilde, their children seeking varied and interesting places while their parents lived in the same house that they had been in since arriving in the country.

  Dorothea, sometimes known as Dotty, was half bent over from age and Koen was gaunt. Rob had seen pictures of both of them on their walls, healthy, standing straight and surrounded by children. Age had taken its toll but Dorothea was still smiling, her lipstick applied rather crookedly and her beads hanging from around her neck. Koen had very little hair, his scalp speckled with age spots.

  “We’ve seen just about everyone come and go,” Dorothea said as Jo wrapped up some leftovers of Christmas dinner, insisting that they take home plenty to get them through the public holidays, “can’t remember most of them…it’s nice that you stayed.”

  “I’m just so glad to be back.” Jo put the turkey into a container. “Now, are you sure I can’t convince you to take anything else?”

  “I wouldn’t know where to put it.” Dorothea laughed. “I don’t have a big fridge like yours.”

  “It’s very handy during big Christmases!” Jo looked around at everyone at the table. Abram caught sight of her glance, his smile becoming wonderfully crooked. Jo blushed and looked at Dorothea who nodded knowingly.

  “It’s so good that you have someone now…” Dorothea’s gnarled hands grasped her arm and squeezed. “I prayed you would find someone. He is very nice.”

  Jo wrapped her arms around her. “Yes he is.” She giggled. “Rob and Annie will see you both home, alright?”

  “Bedankt.”

  Jo looked at Rob who stood nearby, observing everything.

  “Mrs Braam,” he held his arm out, “allow me.”

  “Such a gentleman.” She said, hobbling next to him, the leftovers tucked securely beneath his arm as he joined Annie on the veranda where she stood with Koen.

  Though they only lived next door, it took ten minutes to make their way out of the grounds of House of Figs, along the footpath and up the rather uneven path to their front door. The house was built on a block that had quite a slope on its right down to the next house. There was a carport that sat lower than the house but Rob hadn’t seen a car there for years. He suspected the Braams weren’t allowed to drive anymore. The house was a very simple weatherboard building with only two bedrooms.

  “I see these days that parents are expected to have a bedroom for each child…” Dorothea shook her head. “Imagine! We had eight children!”

  “That would have been quite the house.”

  “When it was summer, they used to get their pillows and lay out on the lawn and sleep in the warm air.” She tutted, her red lipstick feathering along the cracks in her lips. “If anyone saw that nowadays, they call the police. Help, child abuse!” She sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t see anyone yelling, Oma and Opa abuse…oh no, we can take care of ourselves. The children all grow up and leave, live their lives…”

  “Query, did no one invite you to their home for Christmas?” Rob asked gently.

  “They all live so far away. We cannot travel.”

  “Query, did none of them want to come here for Christmas?” Annie asked, modelling Rob’s tender tone.

  “Come back to Glenwilde?” Dorothea made a huffing sound. “There is nothing here, they say. They want their big stores and fancy cars and modern houses…not that I blame them. Koen and I grew up with so little and our children, there was no government help then…they didn’t have much. I am glad they have more than we did.”

  The weatherboards were faded, their blue colour giving way to the white beneath. Lace curtains which looked a little dusty hung around the front window. Annie reached the door first and opened it, helping Koen inside. He hadn’t said much, concentrating on breathing and just enjoying the Christmas celebration. Now he was very tired. He’d used his cane at lunch but when he got through the door, he grasped his walker, shuffling towards his recliner which he sank into and sighed deeply.

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  Rob took the leftovers to the fridge in the pokey kitchen where there was a stove that looked like an antique with pots and pans to match.

  Dorothea was settling into her recliner, both chairs facing the TV.

  “Bedankt,” she said before he could speak, “we are fine now. I’ll turn the TV on and we’ll be asleep in five minutes.”

  “If you need anything, you let us know.” Rob said, mimicking Jo’s firm voice, resonating with compassionate kindness.

  “Bedankt.” Dorothea said again, grasping the remote and stabbing it towards the TV, the small unit blinking into life with ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’. “Black and white…I remember when life was that colourless.” She chuckled.

  Rob closed the door behind himself and Annie and they walked down the steps and went to the gate of House of Figs.

  “Query,” he looked at Annie who was glancing back at the Braam house, “both Eustace and Faelan possess unnatural healing abilities, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Query, why have they left Koen’s condition untreated?”

  Rob blinked as she gazed at him with her blue eyes, wearing an oversized blouse, leggings and chunky sandals which looked like they’d come straight from Bethany’s wardrobe except Rob knew they were part of Annie’s newly purchased clothing.

  “Because his condition is not fictionally related.”

  Annie waited for him to open the gate then walked through and waited for him to close it.

  “Query, is that a condition of treatment?”

  “In a manner.”

  “Query, could you elaborate?”

  He looked at her. “In the beginning, only Faelan was known to possess healing capability, of which he has a finite capacity and must be replenished by the light of his people or else it will kill him. Eustace’s ability is also dependent upon his exposure to water, of which we have ample to maintain his level of healing. However, even if we had these abilities in endless supply, there are concerns about using them in the real world.”

  Annie followed him up the path, the sound of Christmas music spilling out of the open windows as well as the smells of a delicious lunch.

  “One reason I am anticipating is that it would draw unwanted attention to House of Figs. Query, is this correct?”

  “It is. But there is also the concern that we do not yet know about the effects of fictional characters using their abilities on real world humans.”

  “Query, was Johanne West and Bethany not healed on several occasions?”

  “Indeed but their inflictions were also fictionally based and so, too, the restitution had to be.” Rob paused and turned to her on the path. “You must understand that our roles in this world is an unprecedented variable and that not all our conducts have been ideal. We make mistakes but we try to mitigate those mistakes to keep those around us safe.”

  “Query, does that mean healing is only allowed for those within House of Figs’ unique knowledge?”

  Rob’s gaze shifted to the Braam’s old house where he knew Dorothea and Koen were already asleep in their chairs as the movie in black and white played on their screen.

  “Even if Faelan or Eustace should heal Koen, there is no cure for old age.” He frowned. “Indeed, such a notion would be a terrible assumption.”

  “Query, how so?”

  The air was warm as Christmas was at the height of summer. Rob had seen pictures of Christmas celebrated in other parts of the world, landscapes blanketed with snow, hot roasted meals, warm wine, carollers going from door to door and many traditions that were not held in a climate that was decidedly warmer. The fig tree cast a generous shadow over the green lawn, Eustace’s attention keeping it lush despite the heat and Faelan always knew when any of the plants required extra attention.

  A breeze rustled the leaves of the fig tree, its wide, oversized green fronds batting against each other, softly clapping overhead.

  Rob put his hand on the post at the start of the steps up to the veranda. “To say that old age must be cured implies that there is something wrong with it. But there is not.” He turned to the house. “Rafael, Bastian, even Faelan with his elven longevity and Eustace’s unknown lifespan…they too, will age in their own way. It is the natural order of things.”

  “But not for us.”

  “No,” he admitted, “to us, to grow old is a state of being we will never know for we are not natural.”

  Rob and Annie didn’t require sleep. Sometimes, if there had been injuries sustained to their artificial bodies, they could shut down all nonessential functions and put their runtime into repairs. However, those times were few and far between. As such, when the rest of the family had gone to bed, Jo, Bethany and Adela sleeping soundly upstairs, Rob and Annie performed maintenance on House of Figs, washed linen and did any restocking that was required. They were able to work quietly so as not to disturb anyone in the house or their neighbours and because they could both see in the dark, they didn’t need any lights on despite it being the middle of the night.

  Even speaking was barely required as both had remarkable hearing so whispered words were heard as clearly as if they were talking normally.

  But even then, Rob found he didn’t need to speak to instruct Annie. She was learning at a rate he could barely calculate. Indeed, she was already fast approaching his comprehension and capacity which had taken him over five years to develop. They worked together like two well oiled cogs, Annie able to anticipate and Rob, able to complete his self designated chores far sooner than he could do on his own.

  Only a few days into the new year, after House of Figs had just reopened its takeaway window for coffee drinkers, Rob and Annie were hanging washing on the line. Without the sit down portion of the café operating during the quietest month of the year, linen washing was at an all time low. However, because four out of the five guys who manned the stations at House of Figs did not live in the real world, their clothing had to be left behind or retrieved in order to be washed.

  Faelan tended to wear natural colours and weaves and because he was slender, everything was either small or extra small in size. His clothes were also the least likely to be dirty as he had a natural tendency towards cleanliness. He wore high-top canvas shoes with low soles so he could be as close to the ground as possible.

  Bastian’s clothing, on the other hand, was chunky and bold, at least, his pants and footwear was. His jeans had chains or embroidery on them and sometimes they would mimic cargo pants and have pockets down the sides and his shoes were thick soled with contrast stitching. However, when it came to his shirts, he preferred them fitted. Muscle shirts, Rob had heard them called.

  Eustace had a baggier clothing style, dressing in cargos and oversized t-shirts and shoes that were never fully laced up so that they always looked like they were on the brink of falling off yet never did. Rob often observed that, when Eustace tied his apron around his waist, it looked like his clothing was trying to escape the bonds for the rest of the day.

  Rafael wore black on black and leaned towards fitted clothing, even more so than Faelan who didn’t mind bootcut jeans. However, Rafael preferred skinny and wore leather shoes with a pointed toe and while the others wore t-shirts, he wore button up shirts with collars.

  Rob found it interesting that each style reflected much upon the person who wore it. He could almost see Faelan running through the forest of Iffah in his natural hued clothing, his canvas shoes barely touching the ground as he slipped through the trees and over streams. Clothing was not as important to werewolves because they could maintain their furry exterior however, Bastian’s almost grungy look was not so polished that it would be seen as unnatural to his kind.

  Eustace’s outlook on life was a liberated one, shedding all human characteristics when he returned home. The way his clothes almost hung on him made Rob think that he was always looking forward to the time when he could shed his humanity and be a dragon once more.

  Rafael’s style was a direct influence from his life in Atannica as a vampire. While Adela had done her best to distance herself from her mother’s control by throwing off anything lacy or pretty or overly girly, Rafael had preferred to maintain his look. Perhaps he, too, would one day move beyond the polished and somewhat uptight appearance…but that was hardly within Rob’s capacity to predict.

  “Query, are you alright, Rob?” Annie asked.

  Rob realised he’d paused in taking the clothing from the line.

  “I am well.” He replied. “I was just considering the individual natures of those of us who work at House of Figs and the manner in which we choose to dress.”

  “Query, did you choose or did Jo?”

  “It is true that she could see that Faelan would not want polyester fabrics or oversized coats, just as Bastian’s style seemed to naturally incline itself towards boldness and confidence,” Rob admitted, “however, in all things, she deferred to their judgement.”

  “Query, did you choose your clothing choices?”

  Rob shook his head. “When I first arrived, I had no ability to choose, just like you.” Annie nodded. “Without the capacity and yet with the need to not draw attention with my Infinitus garb, as it were, Jo procured me clothing and I found it was perfectly practical and did not require alteration. Admittedly, though I am not as hard on my clothing as Bastian, I am not as soft as Faelan so my clothing has been replaced over the years as well as added to. There is some variety but in the main…”

  He stopped, his nostrils flaring, his olfactory senses going on high alert.

  “I can smell smoke.”

  “As can I.” Annie looked around. “Query, House of Figs?”

  “Check.” Rob ordered but as she hurried inside, he walked across the courtyard, able to detect that the smell was becoming stronger towards the far side of the grounds. When he reached the fence which was half hedge and half wooden slats, the smell increased exponentially. Rob grasped the fence and looked at the Braam’s house.

  “Rob?”

  He spun on his heel, Annie standing on the narrow veranda down the side of House of Figs. “Go to the Observatory, to Eustace’s door and call for him,” he said calmly, “when he has been alerted, wake Jo and have her call emergency services, including medical aid.”

  Annie didn’t question him or hesitate. She immediately went to do all that Rob had said.

  Rob turned his back and leapt over the fence, striding towards the Braam’s house. He went up the front steps and banged on the door.

  “Dorothea Braam!” He called. “Koen Braam! Query, can you hear me?”

  The smell of smoke was undeniable now, curls of grey ribbon sneaking out from beneath the door.

  “I am coming in!” Rob declared, breaking the hinges of the door and barging inside.

  It was a haze of smoke, fire curling up from the kitchen, having consumed the curtains and had moved onto the back wall. Rob looked around, his optical senses struggling for the first time in his activated existence. They had been designed to see in the dark as well as the light but his designer had not anticipated smoke.

  “Dorothea Braam!” He yelled. “Koen Braam!”

  He could hear Dorothea coughing, unable to call for help she was spluttering so badly. The fire was getting out of control, the old house a fire hazard just waiting for a single errant spark to herald its destruction.

  Rob found Dorothea in her recliner and scooped her into his arms. He turned and immediately walked to the front door where a plume of grey smoke was pouring out of the house, filling the sky. He carried her down the steps calmly, across the grass to the footpath where Jo and Annie were waiting.

  “Dotty, can you hear me? Dotty!” Jo cried as Rob laid her gently on the ground. Dorothea tried to nod, her hands reaching out towards the house.

  “Koen…” She croaked.

  Rob turned and immediately walked back towards the house.

  “Rob, what are you doing?!” Jo yelled.

  “I will not abandon him.” He declared and, despite her scream not to do so, entered the house that was now almost fully ablaze.

  “I will go in after him.” Annie went to leave but Jo grabbed her leg.

  “You can’t. Artificial or not, that fire will kill you!”

  Annie stared at the house, the smoke and flames like a terrible banner across its breadth.

  Eustace arrived and, hiding around the back of the property, used his water dragon ability to soak the house, drowning the flames. They were tenacious and refused to submit, flaring up in dry corners but Eustace was determined and very well saturated after hours playing in the oceans of his world.

  Three separate sirens filled the air, screaming up the side of the mountain, through the winding streets of Glenwilde.

  “Koen…where is he?” Dorothea gulped. “Where is my Koen?”

  Annie looked at Jo whose eyes were filled with tears, her expression contorted with terror.

  Where was Koen?

  Where was Rob?

  Suddenly the side door was kicked open and Rob stumbled out of the house, clutching Koen in his arms. Annie saw him and pointed,

  “Look!” She cried, her voice breaking in relief.

  Jo sobbed.

  “Koen?” Dorothea whimpered.

  “Rob has him.” Jo promised as Rob walked across the lawn. “Annie, get his shirt off him!”

  As Rob gently laid the limp man on the footpath, Annie pulled the unbuttoned shirt off Rob which had been on fire. Because Rob could not feel pain and hadn’t been concentrating on anything other than saving Koen, he hadn’t been aware that his clothing was alright. Annie threw the shirt on the ground and stamped on it.

  Lights flashed brightly in the cul de sac.

  “Rob,” Jo looked at him, “you’ve got to get out of here. Go back to House of Figs and clean yourself up.”

  Rob nodded and hastened towards the back of the property. Annie watched him leap over the fence and disappear into the café.

  “Annie, tell Eustace to stop and hide.” Jo ordered.

  Annie did so, Eustace ducking out of sight so that the fire brigade didn’t see a man firing jets of water at a house from his hands. The firies had the fire under control very quickly, thanks to Eustace’s unknown efforts. The police quickly isolated the house and kept the gawkers at bay while the medics arrived to look after Dorothea and Koen who, staggeringly, was alive.

  “Straight to emergency and the ICU ward.” One of the ambos said with great authority. “If you hadn’t got them out when you did…”

  They left the dire thought unfinished. Annie remained by Jo’s side until the ambulance drove away. The police asked a few questions about the fire which was all but doused then Jo turned back to her home. Her face was smudged with ash and her eyes were red rimmed. Annie wondered if she looked the same.

  Inside House of Figs, Bethany was waiting with Adela who seemed even more pale than normal.

  “Are you alright?” Jo asked when she’d told them both Dorothea and Koen had been taken to hospital.

  “We’re okay.” Bethany glanced at Adela, answering for her. The young, post-vampire survivor was stoic and grim yet Annie got a sense that she was hiding a deep well of fear. “Rob’s a mess. His clothes are ruined, his shoes were smoking and his hair is singed. He’s also smudged from head to toe in ash. I told him to have a shower but he’ll need fresh clothes.”

  “I will retrieve those for him.” Annie offered, going upstairs. At the landing she glanced back and saw Bethany put her arms around Jo and give her a hug, Adela watching with her mouth turned down at the corners.

  “I don’t think any of us are going to get much sleep tonight.” Jo said as Annie went to the office which was where she and Rob’s belongings were kept. Some of the clothes were on a small hanging rack and the rest, folded neatly beneath it. She found a pair of cargo joggers in khaki, a white tee and a denim shirt. She walked to the bathroom and knocked. Rob had warned her about barging in when a door was shut.

  “I have clothes for you.” Annie called.

  A moment later the door opened and Rob, with a towel wrapped around his waist, appeared. His hair was still dripping and there were several ‘scrapes’ on his skin, visible because his chest was bare. Of course, because it wasn’t real skin, they weren’t real scrapes but Annie could see he’d been damaged. He had an unchanging physique, designed to be the perfect balance of muscle and slenderness according to the boffins in Infinitus who had designed him.

  “Thank you.” He took the clothing. “Query, how are Mr and Mrs Braam?”

  “Both were alive when the ambulance took them to the hospital.” Annie smiled. “You saved their lives.”

  “I could hardly do otherwise.” Rob said without pride. “I should dress.”

  Annie nodded and let him close the door. She stared at him, her lips pressed together, her cheeks slightly pink.

  “How is he?” Annie turned and saw Jo coming up the stairs with the other two.

  “Rob is perfect.” Annie replied, nodding then saw their expressions. “I…did I say that incorrectly?”

  Adela rolled her eyes and went to the bedroom, Bethany following, covering up a giggle with her hand.

  “No, Annie,” Jo smiled, “you said it perfectly.”