Chapter 10: Rust and Ruin

As she stands watching the sunrise over the hills; Rowena is thinking back to the beginning of her present troubles; the REAL beginning. She remembers being happy once, when she was young and the whole world was new to her and she could be anything she wanted to be. From a young age she loved playing dress-up and having tea parties for all her stuffed animals and dolls and when her mother noticed on or around her eighth birthday, began taking her to fashion shows and entering her into the contests. Being such a pretty child, she won from time to time, enough that her mom stopped working and devoted all of her time to grooming her child for the next show. Rowena had enjoyed it at first, getting to wear such pretty outfits all the time and getting made up like the girls she saw on television or in movies. As she got a bit older, she grew to hate it, when it took over her life with the constant travel, staying in hotels, tutors for her classes and no friends; only competitors in the fairly cutthroat contests. Her mom habitually conspired to help her daughter win and eventually earned a bad reputation among the other mothers and fathers.

She was just barely a teenager when she finally told her mom how much she had grown to hate the lifestyle she was living and her mom shrugged it off like it didn’t concern her. In the four months that followed, she complained more and more and even started to rebel against what her mother wanted, but the was adamant; claiming she could do what SHE wanted to do when she was 18… not before. When Rowena started sabotaging her own wardrobe or makeup and intentionally making mistakes in her performances, her mom slowly relented about forcing her to do fashion shows.



She often visited her grandmother on weekends; when they were home anyway, and it wasn’t long before her mom Evelyn started taking her to see talent agents, often getting her brief spots on commercials or magazine advertisements for her time. That paid more than the winnings from the competitions, so her mom shifted her focus to get Rowena into drama programs and dance lessons, voice coaches. Since she couldn’t talk to her mom, she remembers sitting on the patio talking with her grandmother Beverly about everything in her life. The old woman was old-fashioned, but had lived a full life and was very good at giving advice. It was less than two years later that she signed a contract with a talent agent and he began putting her in commercials often, small parts in television sitcoms or dramas; where she excelled, but was intensely miserable.

She told her grandmother how she felt often; and it wasn’t long before she went to Evelyn; who argued hotly and at some length about knowing what’s best for HER daughter and demanded she stay out of it. She kept to herself after that and Rowena saw her fading into depression day by day and it broke her heart.



She died on Rowena birthday, casting a shroud over the already subdued affair; with only her and her mom at the party. She wept openly for weeks and often in her grief thought she saw her grandma pruning the roses in the garden, or standing beneath her favorite Elm tree in the front yard. Without the element of control her grandmother had had, Evelyn became even more domineering over her daughter, basically wanting her to do whatever it takes to be a star so she never had to work again. Rowena often considered running away and even suicide, but when she saw her grandmother again; waiting patiently beneath the elm, she went down to talk with her apparently restless spirit. Having someone to talk to helped immensely, but she was still miserable with how her life was going, but more importantly with her agent.

Her mom was ecstatic when the then fifteen year old Rowena came home one night and told her that she had signed a two year contract for a recurring role on a television drama; one her agent had promised often, but never quite delivered on. Her eyes were streaked with tears as she told her about it, and the older woman was so absorbed with her own thoughts of how to spend the money she was going to make that she failed to notice her eyes red from crying, or her rumpled and stained clothing. Only her grandmother knew what truly had happened that day at the office of her agent but only appeared to Rowena so was nothing more than a sounding board for her problems.

Her mom found out the hard way when she discovered that Rowena was pregnant and got furious at HER for mingling with her co-stars. Rowena had to explain what had happened with her agent; NOT her co-stars and all the woman said was “It happens all the time in this business honey… no need to get upset over it.” or some crock of horse shit like that. Rowena however had thought long and hard over her options and was angry and decidedly cold when she stated that she wanted to go to the police, but her mom tried to talk her out of it, not wanting to risk her career.

“It’s MY career mom, not yours, and I will risk it if I want!!” She remembers screaming as she went out the door and into the night; eventually finding herself at the police station where she filed a report against her now former agent; there was no chance in hell that she would work with him again after what had happened. It wasn’t long before he was jailed and though she didn’t have an agent, the production company honored her contract; and even wrote her pregnancy into the script for the show. Not believing in abortion, Rowena decided to have the baby but put it up for adoption even before she had a chance to hold the little girl in her arms.



She comes back to reality, realizing her eyes are brimming with tears and for the third time in as many days, her emotions have tried to burst out of her like a flood behind a dam. Since she gave her baby up all those years ago and went her own way from her wretched mother, she has tried to keep a tight rein on her emotions and has succeeded until just recently. Perhaps humans are just not supposed to keep their emotions bottled up like a shaken soda; since eventually they seek some form of egress. She wipes away the tears and feels better than she has in a long while having expelled much of the negative emotions that she kept pent up, and turns to cross the courtyard.





She isn't sure who, but someone had placed flowers on Troy’s grave and when she approaches, Owen is just standing there with a blank look on his face as he stares down at the headstone. She idly wonders what is going through that thick skull of his and walks closer, to pay her respects to Troy. 

Before she can close the distance, he turns and walks towards her, and she wonders how he knew that she was there. “I saw you standing on the wall like statue, just staring out over the lake for a long time… I wanted to check on you, but you seemed to not want any company.” He says walking up to her and takes in her reddish eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. “This is a big change for me.” He says simply. “I am a soldier, nothing more... so I am not familiar with these things I am feeling… or sharing them.” She takes in his own grave expression; as though he is trying hard not to tear up himself. 

They stand in mute silence for a long while staring down at both recent graves and feeling their own mortality creeping up behind them. The sharing of this silent and solemn connection between them is nothing like either of them has experienced before and the pained emotion transcends all need for words; which would likely be vastly insufficient to describe what they are feeling at any rate even if words could come.





Not far away, Tarik is just finishing up his morning prayers and looks up at the rising sun and blinks since it had been dark when he began. Rolling up his carpet, he heads down for something to break his fast, but stops when he sees K4T13 in the kitchen, ranting and raving to herself audibly and he hears the words “Rusty” and “Disrespectful Bitch” in between the incoherent jabbering and growling. 

Though he is a religious guy and was taught be tolerant of everyone whatever they look like, whatever their race or heritage is, or religious beliefs, he has a bit of an aversion to K4T13 from her being a constructed creature rather than one born in Allah’s image. She glares at him and while normally he would let it pass with a smile, he is in a particularly feisty mood. He didn’t like how she handled Troy at the end of the competition; even though he ran and it’s her job to keep that from happening, she could have been a little more restrained in doing her duty. “Ah, good morning my rusty friend… how are you doing?” He asks with a straight face, though he wants nothing more than to laugh in her face. Her monotone growl is all he hears as she storms past him and heads into the barracks.



The door to the kitchen closes behind her and her metal feet click and clack as she heads down the short hallway and into the barracks. “How dare that man insult me… rusty indeed… what a ridiculous hat he wears... I wouldn't be caught dead in that ugly thing.“She mutters to herself. She believes she is a good simbot, always keeping her joints lubricated with the finest oils and her metal shell scraped and polished with metal polish. “What a stupid purple haired bitch!” She says loudly about yesterday’s encounter and storms into the barracks to cool down before she does something stupid.





Just as she enters, she sees the purple coverlet on the bed beside the door and is again reminded of Rowena’s hair and choice of wardrobe. Without thinking at all, she lashes out with her metal hands and hears the sound of metal bending, wood splintering and fabric tearing as the bed is reduced to a small pile of rubble of the floor. That isn’t enough for her and she turns to the next nearest bed and likewise turns it into a pile of trash on the floor. A third, fourth and fifth bed fall to her wrath; not to mention the dresser she pulls apart piece at a time and chops it into toothpicks without the slightest effort. She finally stops and simply walks out of the room, her rage fully vented and with her calm demeanor once more.



Hearing the noise from the kitchen, Tarik waits for it to subside and finishes his waffles before risking a glance into the barracks and what he sees when he walks in stuns him. “By Allah.” He breathes at seeing the ruins of most of the furniture in the room. She could have easily done that to him there in the kitchen. Perhaps it wasn’t smart to call her Rusty, but he’d never had so much satisfaction in his life, so regrets it not.





He crosses the hall to the training room and sees Lainee the Overseer within, sitting cross-legged and meditating. She is breathing in and out easily and humming a katra so doesn’t hear him enter the room, or even call her name standing five feet from her. He waits several minutes for her to come out of her trance; treating it reverently like he would want from someone while he was praying. “Madam Overseer, perhaps you should take a look at the barracks… I believe our mechanical friend has made a mess.” He says simply, pointing across the hall with a contented smile.



Upon seeing the wreckage, Lainee immediately finds K4T13 in the living room admiring the fountain. “What did you do?” She growls angrily and advances on the Simbot, who takes a step or two backwards. “You couldn’t just go outside and shout yourself mute?” K4T13 surprisingly looks a bit sheepish. “They called me Rusty.” She trails off. Lainee grabs her shoulders. “I don’t care if they call you a rust-bucket, a hunk of junk or piece of robotic shit!” She shouts at her supposed companion. “Next time just let it go… call this your one chance to avoid ejection. The next round is supposed to start tomorrow, but I guess we’ll have to postpone thanks to you… good job.” Lainee grumps and heads off to try and find a way to repair what the simbot had done to the barracks. When she talks to the sponsors, they assure her that it will be taken care of the following day and to give the contestants some free time.



The announcement goes out that they will have the afternoon and following day off, so Ayasha finds an out of the way place to make a call. Her phone had been "confiscated" when she first arrived, but they didn’t know she always keeps a spare hidden on her person, just in case. Sure it’s against the rules, but there is much going on in the arena that bends those same rules; if not breaking them completely.

When her grandfather answers his phone, she asks him for a favor; him already being privy to what has been happening after all and he agrees to help her without hesitation. She states step by step what needs done for the second phase of her little project and when he repeats back to her everything she needs, she hangs up the phone; content that should something happen to her now, her plans would still come to fruition without her. She goes off to the training room and finds some of the others already within, and soon falls into the familiar martial arts rhythm she has known from the time she was a child.