《A Home For All》


 Welcome to Haven

    Suzanne looked out the bus window and saw the same highway exit sign pass by for the fifth time.


    3 mi - HAVEN - A HOME FOR ALL


    POPULATION 0


    Cheerfully painted flowers and butterflies adorned the sign below the lettering. It was a warm, pleasant early summer day outside, bordering on hot. The sun shone in the sky, with only occasional fluffy clouds breaking up the expanse of blue. She could have sworn the bus was driving in a mostly straight line and they hadn¡¯t taken any exits, but she recognized this sign. There was a light but visible smudge on the lower right corner, and she swore it was the exact same one she¡¯d seen each time they¡¯d driven past.


    She stood up and squeezed past the older man sleeping on the aisle seat beside her. The bus was silent apart from the deep rumble of the engine and the vibration of the tires on the asphalt. A couple of passengers were reading or listening to headphones, but most were dozing in the heat, oblivious. She walked towards the front where the driver sat, a balding black man who looked to be in his early fifties, she guessed.


    "Hey," she said.


    "Yeah, hi," the driver replied. A light frown drew down the corners of his mouth.


    "Are we on the right road? I think I saw the same exit sign a couple of times now," she said, trying to sound calm but unable to keep an edge of nervousness out of her voice. The driver licked his lips.


    "Yeah, I saw it too," he said. He took his eyes off the road for a brief moment, and they looked at each other. His brow was furrowed. "The weird one. Population 0?" Suzanne nodded.


    "What¡¯s that mean? Some kind of joke?" she asked. The driver shook his head.


    "No idea. I¡¯ve been driving this route for eight years now, but I swear I¡¯ve never been on this stretch of road. Don¡¯t recognize it at all," he replied. Suzanne was silent for a moment as she took this in. There was a name tag pinned to his lapel. ¡®Marvin¡¯ was written on it with a black marker, in neat longhand. She tried to think of a reason that could make sense of their situation.


    "Are we driving in a circle? I mean, how can we keep coming back to the same place," she said, uncertain. She couldn¡¯t think of anything else that could be happening.


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    "The road¡¯s got a slight right curve. And there¡¯s been no exits, just the one to that Haven place," he said.


    "So yes? Sounds like we¡¯re driving in a circle to me?" she asked.


    "I guess, yeah, but how does that make sense? How¡¯d we get on this stretch of highway if there¡¯s no way on or off, apart from that one exit, and I¡¯m damn sure we didn¡¯t come out of that one," he said with an edge of frustration in his voice. Suzanne looked behind her. A couple of people had noticed them and were listening to the conversation. Some were starting to talk amongst themselves. The driver grumbled something that sounded like a swear word. He pressed a button on the console and pulled a little microphone mounted on a stalk-like thin boom closer to his mouth. "Folks, we''ve got to make an unplanned detour. I think I took the wrong exit somewhere, but don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll get back to our usual route soon. We apologize for the inconvenience," he announced over the public announcement system. He turned the microphone off. "I can see the exit coming up again. "Gotta lead somewhere, right?" he said to Suzanne.


    "Yeah," she replied, uncertainly. "Marvin, right?". He nodded. "My name¡¯s Suzanne," she told him.


    "Pleased to meet you," he replied. The bus decelerated as they neared the exit, and they drove towards Haven.


    Soon they saw the first houses. The highway led into a very regular grid of wide streets, with a single building erected on each equal-sized rectangle of land. The houses themselves were not regular at all. To Suzanne¡¯s right was an expensive looking, all white mansion with a shimmering swimming pool in the back. She looked out the other side and there stood a cottage with a thatched roof that looked like it belonged in the middle ages. The bus drove on and she saw that the next house to her right was a gray high rise of ten stories.


    "What is this, a movie set?" Marvin said.


    "Yeah, this is weird all right. You think this is a film studio¡¯s lot?" Suzanne said. The older man scratched the gray, three-day-old stubble on his chin.


    "Some old village house, and next door, a million dollar mansion? Gotta be for films." Suzanne glanced at a Japanese pagoda outside.


    "Maybe. So where¡¯s the crew?" she asked. Marvin shrugged.


    "I don¡¯t see any workers." If there was anyone living here, they hadn¡¯t shown their faces yet. There was no sign of other vehicles either. The road looked pristine, as if it had just been built and nobody had ever driven on it. A few small birds were fluttering around in hedges dotted here and there, but there was no sign of people. Street signs were mounted on poles at each corner of the rectangular plots of land. The streets weren¡¯t named, but numbered. They were driving along 5th Avenue, passing 7th street. Eventually, they reached the end of the avenue, though not of the strange city. The road reached a T junction. Behind it, four of the grid rectangles had been combined to form a larger plot of land, but no building stood on it. Instead, it seemed to be paved in gleaming, spotless white stone: a huge, empty, and completely flat space, beyond which they could see more buildings. "Okay, I¡¯m going to stop here." Marvin pulled over on the right side of the road and parked. The bus door opened with a hiss.


    "Maybe there¡¯s someone in the buildings?" Suzanne wondered aloud. Marvin looked at her and shrugged. In the back, people were talking, and some had stood up. She exited the bus.

 The Town House

    Suzanne stood outside. The plot of land next to the bus held a row of three red-brick townhouses. Each of the plots was huge, making the row of houses look a little lost, standing in the middle of it with dozens of yards of free space on all sides. She walked towards them across the grass that bordered the road. Pavement was laid in front of the houses, but it just stopped at the edges of the row, as if cut with scissors. Beyond the curb, there was just grass, where normally there would have been a road. A few linden trees were planted in front of the houses, with little fences around the tree pits.


    She looked up at the front of the house in the middle row. The wind was blowing softly, rustling the leaves on the trees, and a few birds sang. The sheer curtains were drawn and reflected a white glare, revealing no details of the interiors. If anyone was inside, she couldn¡¯t see them.


    A stone balustrade guarded the sides of the stairway leading up to a dark green door. She walked up and rang the doorbell. There was no answer. She rang it again. Nothing. She held her finger on the button for nearly a minute. An uninterrupted chime rang, slightly muffled through the door. Suzanne rapped on the door.


    "Anyone home? "  called. There was no answer. She looked at the doorknob and made a decision. It turned easily, and the door swung open, revealing a clean, white-walled entrance hall. The floor was a light brown wood parquet. An expensive looking coat and shoe rack stood against a wall next to a small upholstered bench. There were no shoes or coats to be seen anywhere. Everything looked new, unused and free of any dust. This place didn¡¯t have the faint lived-in smell that any inhabited dwelling eventually developed.


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    She stepped inside and called out again, just in case anyone was here after all. Her sneakers made almost no noise on the floor as she walked further inside. The decor was pretty, with tasteful wall hangings and vases in muted colors here and there. But everything had a distinctly uninhabited feeling to it, as if she had walked into a furniture store¡¯s demonstration room. She passed through the hallway and entered a large living room.


    Like the rest of the place, the furniture and decor here were of obvious high quality. Two cream couches strewn with little cushions stood facing each other, separated by a wood and steel coffee table. A soft rug was sprawled underneath. On the opposite side of the table stood a love seat on which someone had placed a shiny white mannequin in a sitting position. The thing was vaguely male-looking but had even less definition than the ones she usually saw in shops. Suzanne was wondering if it was some kind of prop, and shrieked in shock when it suddenly stood up.

 The Mannequin

    Suzanne backed off hurriedly as the featureless white figure rose from its seat.


    "I¡¯m sorry, I thought there was nobody here!" Suzanne exclaimed, walking backwards. "Whew, you gave me a fright. Our bus got lost and we ended up here spoke quickly, then trailed off when the mannequin made no attempt to answer. The thing (no, a person in some sort of costume, she corrected herself) stood upright, perfectly still now, its impassive, featureless face angled toward her. Suzanne was breathing hard from shock and surprise. She¡¯d thought earlier it was a male figure, but in reality it just lacked female curves rather than having any hint of male features.


    Look, I¡¯m really sorry for barging in here, but we genuinely lost our way and found no other exit. Do you know the way out of " She felt unnerved by the continuing silence from this guy, or girl, but she was in no mood for games. Her mom was waiting for her at their old house, grieving for her dad. She wasn¡¯t going to miss his funeral.


    "What do you need?"  mannequin said. It hadn¡¯t opened its mouth, because it didn¡¯t have one, but the voice had unmistakably come from somewhere in its head region. The voice itself was thin and high, but very clear. It had no discernible accent, and it seemed a little robotic, mostly because it pronounced every word so perfectly rather than being monotone. Suzanne paused for a moment.


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    "Need?  we got here by accident. I want to leave," she said. Considering for a moment, she added, "are we on a TV show? Is this like a hidden camera prank or something like that? If yes, then I¡¯m not laughing. Stop this right now or I swear I¡¯ll sue you for all your worth. Don¡¯t doubt me! I¡¯ll be late for my dad¡¯s funeral and this. Goddamn. " She shouted the last word. The mannequin showed no sign of being perturbed by this.


    Is there anything I can do for it replied, in the same calm, high tones. Suzanne laughed.


    "Sure, I¡¯d like a Thanksgiving turkey with all the trimmings and a bottle of champagne!" she said.


    "Please wait here," the mannequin replied, and walked toward her.


    Stay back! Don¡¯t touch "  cried out, but the mannequin walked around her and left the room. There was the sound of a door opening. Suzanne peered around the corner and made for the exit hurriedly. She was in the hallway when the high voice called to her. When she looked back, the mannequin stood in the doorway to what must be the kitchen, holding a huge silver platter with a steaming hot, huge fried turkey on it in one hand. Its other hand gripped a champagne bottle.


    "I have prepared your food," it said. Suzanne stared for a second, then ran out the front door.

 Back Outside

    Suzanne ran back to the bus. Goosebumps covered her back, and she felt an insistent tingle in her midsection that made her glance back over her shoulder. The town house¡¯s door stood open and empty. The white monster hadn¡¯t followed her out.


    A group of people were milling around outside the bus, arguing with Marvin, the driver, who had also left the vehicle. They looked up as they saw her running towards them.


    "There¡¯s a," she got out, and had to stop for a moment to catch her breath. "There¡¯s someone in that building!" she managed. Everyone was looking at her, but said nothing. I don¡¯t know, a man or maybe a woman, I couldn¡¯t tell. They were wearing some sort of costume. It looks like a store " Some of the passengers looked at each other, then toward the nearby row of townhouses.


    What sent you running? Did they try to attack " Marvin asked, his heavy brow furrowed.


    "Nn-no, not really, but", she stopped to gather her thoughts. I kept asking how to get out of here, but they didn¡¯t reply. I got pissed off and joked that I wanted a Thanksgiving dinner, and they just pulled a whole fried turkey out of thin air in less than a " The group was staring at her now, some chuckling and shaking their heads. Marvin raised an eyebrow, and the expression on his face took on an edge of concern.


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    "Hun, are you feeling alright?" he asked.


    "Yeah, I¡¯m alright I¡¯m not crazy, OK?"  said, with some anger creeping into her voice. "It¡¯s still in there. If you don¡¯t believe me, go back there with me and check it out yourself!" She crossed her arms. Marvin considered, then nodded.


    "Wait.  be right back" boarded the bus again. Suzanne stood outside the door and watched him rummage around somewhere under the dashboard. He picked up a little black satchel and took something out of it. She saw a gleam of blackened metal. A handgun, she realized. Marvin quickly inspected the semiautomatic pistol (probably checking if itloaded, she thought) and stuffed the thing down the front of his pants, covering the bulge with his shirt afterwards. "Let¡¯s go," he saidThe rest of the group looked undecided as to what to do. An Asian kid, who appeared to be around twenty years old, took a step forward."You want to come too, son?" Marvin asked him.


    "Yeah, I¡¯ll go," he said, and gave a short, awkward grin before his face returned to a slightly worried expression. Marvin nodded. The trio set off toward the townhouse.

 Suzanne鈥檚 Home

    "I¡¯m Marvin," the driver introduced himself to the Asian man.


    "Cecil," the young man replied. He was of thin build, slightly taller than the stocky, heavyset older man. His black hair was short and slicked back with hair gel.


    "Hi Cecil. I¡¯m Suzanne," she said, and they shook hands briefly. They walked over the grass toward the row of houses in the distance. After around half the distance, Suzanne suddenly stopped and put her head in her hands briefly.


    "Ouch," she said.


    The other two who had walked in front stopped and turned around.


    "Something wrong?" Marvin asked.


    "It¡¯s okay. I¡¯m starting to get a migraine, I think. Brilliant," she answered. She waved her hand dismissively and continued onwards. "It¡¯ll be OK. Let¡¯s go."


    They reached the stairway leading up to the central townhouse. The front door stood open.


    "You saw just the one guy in the costume there?" Marvin asked.


    "Yeah. They were in the living room on the ground floor," she replied. The older man nodded and started walking up the stairs.


    "Okay, so let¡¯s go talk to our new friend," he said. The hallway came into view as they ascended. Nobody was to be seen.


    "Hello? Excuse me. Someone in there?" Marvin called into the open doorway. All they could hear was the wind and quiet birdsong.


    "Hey. I was here just a moment ago. Hello? I brought some friends. Do you mind if we come in?" Suzanne added.


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    "You are free to enter your home, Suzanne," a high, well-articulated voice from inside answered. She gasped quietly. Marvin¡¯s brow furrowed and he peered into the hallway, moving slightly to try and see more of the living room at the end of it. The two men looked at Suzanne.


    "I never mentioned my name," she hissed.


    "Your home? Did I hear that right?" Cecil asked. Suzanne had heard it too, and shook her head uncomprehendingly. Marvin cleared his throat.


    "Hey, buddy. We don¡¯t feel like we should be walking into your place. Can you come out please? We just wanna talk," he said. The person inside the house didn¡¯t answer.


    "Can you come out please? You¡¯re in my home," Suzanne said. Cecil gave her a quick grin at this. They looked back into the hallway. At the far end of the hallway, a flicker of light and shadow indicated movement in the living room. After a moment, someone came into view. The gleaming white mannequin walked around the corner and entered the hallway, its feet making quiet "clink" noises on the wood floor. The three outside took a step backward as it came to a stop just inside the front door.


    "Is there anything else you need, Suzanne?" it asked. The mannequin waited patiently as Marvin stared at it, his brow furrowed deeply. Cecil¡¯s face was blank, but he also couldn¡¯t take his eyes off the gleaming white being.


    "I, uh, what?" Suzanne had heard the question directed at her, but being confronted with this strange apparition again had blanked out her mind. She did, at least, feel a told-you-so sensation of gratification as the other two now clearly saw the reality of the situation.


    "It must be uncomfortable standing out here. Won¡¯t you come inside?" the being said after a full minute of silence. It turned around and walked back through the hallway. The group watched it disappear into the living room at the far end. Marvin¡¯s eyes were wide open and he was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring rhythmically. Cecil had taken the encounter with similar astonishment. His mouth was slightly open, and she could tell his mind was working furiously, trying to make sense of what they had seen. The thing had moved incredibly precisely, each part of the body seeming to do the minimum required of it, and not a bit more. The effect was eerie; it made her think of industrial robots working on an assembly line with inhuman speed and accuracy, never tiring.


    "Convinced now?" Suzanne asked with some satisfaction. She entered the hallway, intending to get some answers. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, Marvin and Cecil followed.

 Confrontation

    When the three entered the living room, the mannequin was sitting in the love seat again. It looked up and said, "Please make yourself comfortable, Suzanne, and let me know if you need anything."


    Suzanne was tired from the journey, and she had no tolerance left for this absurd prank. She wanted answers.


    "I¡¯ll tell you what I need, Mister," Suzanne said, pointing her finger at the mannequin, "you can tell me right now how you know my name! I¡¯m sure I didn¡¯t tell you. If this is all a," she waved her hands, "a prank TV show or something, I¡¯m not laughing. In fact, I can guarantee you I¡¯m going to sue you for all you¡¯re worth, you hear? And if I miss my dad¡¯s funeral because of you, I¡¯m going to HURT you, I swear to God!" She was breathing hard and her body was shaking a little with adrenaline, preparing for a potential violent confrontation. In contrast, the mannequin showed no reaction and stood absolutely, eerily still.


    "Yeah, you heard the lady. I¡¯ve just about had enough too. What¡¯s going on here?" Marvin added in an unamused tone. The mannequin seemed to consider this. Its face was a flat, blank mask without even a hint of a nose or any other facial features that could indicate its emotional state. The face briefly turned towards Marvin, then back to Suzanne. The high, clear voice seemed to emanate from the head, but it didn¡¯t sound like it was made by a mouth behind a mask.


    "You chose this building as your home, Suzanne. I am the servant assigned to this dwelling. My purpose is to make your stay as comfortable as possible, using all my abilities." It fell silent. The group exchanged glances. Suzanne noticed Marvin had tiny goosebumps on his neck. Cecil¡¯s eyes were wide open.


    "I didn¡¯t choose anything, mister! All I did was go through the open front door so I could find someone who could show us the way out of this stupid place!" Suzanne retorted.


    "You entered this building, Suzanne. You chose it as your home," the mannequin answered calmly, matter-of-factly.


    "None of us care about a house in a creepy, empty town, jackass! We just want to go home, and you¡¯re going to show us the way out right now!" Marvin shouted. His face was flushed and his nostrils flared as he yelled at the white figure. Suzanne recoiled as she saw him draw his pistol from under his shirt and point it at the mannequin. Cecil staggered backward, raising his hands. The young man¡¯s eyes were locked on the gleaming black steel of the weapon. The mannequin¡¯s right arm darted forward, elongating and warping like melting white plastic, and its hand liquified and engulfed the gun like a child squeezing an excess of glue over a model kit. Glistening white matter flowed up the driver¡¯s arm up to the elbow. It looked like liquid white wall paint, but when Marvin tried to free his trapped hand, he couldn¡¯t move it even when he grabbed onto the stuck forearm with his other hand. Suzanne shouted at the mannequin to let the driver go and also grabbed onto the immobilized arm. It was like Marvin had stuck it into wet concrete, which had hardened instantly. She couldn¡¯t be sure how heavy the mannequin was, but it didn¡¯t seem to struggle or even move while Marvin and herself were hanging on for dear life. Cecil seemed too shocked to decide what to do and was standing in the corner, shouting at everyone to calm down, but didn¡¯t involve himself in the fight otherwise.


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    Suzanne let go and grabbed a heavy looking ceramic ornament in the shape of a blue fish off a coffee table. Holding it by the tail, she swung her makeshift club in a wide arc at the mannequin¡¯s head. The fish connected with the mannequin¡¯s temple, and Suzanne grunted as the shock of the impact traveled down her arm. She dodged awkwardly as the hunk of ceramic bounced back and almost hit her as well. Her weapon was chipped at the point where it had impacted but didn¡¯t break. The mannequin didn¡¯t react at all to the hit, which she was sure would have knocked out or at least hurt any person alive. Stunned for a moment, she rallied and tried it again, with the same lack of effect. The improvised club slammed into the impassive white head several more times. Marvin had tired of his escape attempt and was standing still, struggling to breathe after the exertion. Suzanne had halted her assault as well, understanding that this wasn¡¯t going to work. She decided to reason with the uncanny being, which she was now quite certain could not be a human being.


    "No, please, you have to let him go. We don¡¯t mean to harm you; we¡¯re just scared and want to get home." She forced herself to sound calm and reasonable, but her voice was shaking with adrenaline and panic.


    "I cannot let your companion wield a dangerous weapon inside this house, Suzanne. It could potentially injure you."


    "Yes, I understand. Marvin doesn¡¯t want to harm anyone. Isn¡¯t that right?" She turned to the man and spoke as calmly as she could. "Marvin, please let go of the gun so our friend can take it for safekeeping." The trapped man was sweating profusely and a dark stain had formed in the front of his white shirt, but he nodded. She couldn¡¯t see what was happening inside the white blob surrounding his hand and the weapon, but the stuff receded slowly as Marvin drew back his now empty hand. The three people in the room, as well as the white being of indeterminate origin, were silent for a moment.


    "Okay¡­ I think we all need to calm down and talk this through like adults," Cecil finally said.

 Explanations

    Suzanne nodded, not taking her eyes off the mannequin.


    "Yeah, okay. Okay, We''ve got to figure this out.  sit down," she said.


    "I¡¯m not having a tea party with this thing!" Marvin said.


    What else are you going to do, though?  might finally get some answers from our friend here," Cecil said, waving a hand toward the mannequin. Marvin looked about to reply, but then sat down on one of the cream-colored couches. Suzanne joined him, while Cecil chose the opposite couch. The mannequin made no move to join them.


    "Please?" she said, pointing at the empty loveseat. It seemed to accept this and sat down where Suzanne had originally encountered it.


    "I¡¯m Cecil Kwan." Cecil said.


    Suzanne MacklinPleased to meet " She looked at Marvin, who was sitting with his arms crossed in front of him and glowered. He rolled his eyes.


    "Marvin good enough for THAT," he said eventually, motioning at the mannequin with his chin. They looked at the white being, waiting for a reply.


    "I am the servant of Suzanne¡¯s building," it said. Marvin rolled his eyes again at this, but Cecil quickly spoke.


    "You don¡¯t have a name?" he asked.


    "No.  you require me to have one, I will accept a name of your choosing" the mannequin replied. Suzanne thought.


    "Maybe um, Mike?" Cecil gave her a look of amusement. "I¡¯m not good with names," she remarked, slightly annoyed.


    "I understand.  will respond to the name ¡®Mike¡¯ from now on," the mannequin said.


    "Great, now that we all know each other, maybe we can find some common ground," Cecil said, smiling. Marvin glowered at him from his seat. So, Mike, can you tell us a little more about Haven? I¡¯ve never heard of a place like this. What is its " Mike was quiet but seemed to glance at Suzanne, turning  face toward her. Suzanne had already got the impression earlier that it was her status as "owner" of the building that meant Mike obeyed her wishes but not others, so she nodded encouragingly.


    "I do not know the answer to that question," Mike replied.


    "Bullshit," Marvin muttered, glowering again.


    Okay, maybe it doesn¡¯t matter right now. But what about you? Excuse me if this sounds unkind, but what are you? You¡¯re, well, not like us. Humans, I Cecil asked.


    "I am the servant of Suzanne¡¯s building," Mike replied. It paused. "I cannot further elaborate on my answer to your question beyond this statement." Marvin rolled his eyes yet again.


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    "What does that mean, exactly, servant? Just because I walked in here, do you now have to do anything I " Suzanne asked.


    "YesMy purpose is to fulfill any request you have as long as it is within my ability. However, I may not perform actions that may harm you or any other "


    "When I was here earlier, you cooked me a turkey dinner in less than a  Is that one of your abilities? How did you do that? It was almost like a magic she continued.


    "There is a dispenser in the kitchen that generates a wide range of material objects. This includes food and drink.


    "Can you pull a white rabbit out of your magic widget too?" Marvin scoffed.


    "No, the dispenser cannot create living matter. If such is required, or objects of a mass that exceed the kitchen dispenser¡¯s capacity, the constructor in the center of the city must be "


    "The what?" Suzanne asked.


    "The constructorIt is just next to the plot this building stands on.  must have seen it," Mike said. Suzanne wondered if she had missed some sort of machine when she got off of the bus, but then remembered something.


    "You mean that huge empty plaza with the white stone  Is that the "


    "Correct," Mike replied.


    Well, that¡¯s interesting.  like we won¡¯t starve any time soon, if your abilities include making food out of thin air," Cecil said. I¡¯ve got to wonder though, what¡¯s the catch?  to imply you mean any harm, but what do we do to repay you for your hospitality?" he asked. Suzanne tensed up a little. She wanted to know this too.


    "There is no   serve to the best of their ability," Mike answered.


    There¡¯s got to be a price tag attached. There always is! You mean to tell us we can just take possession of these buildings, and there¡¯s some weird thing just like you in each one that will make food and whatever else we want for free as long as we " Marvin growled at Mike.


    "It does sound too good to be   from the fact that we can¡¯t get away from this place," Suzanne said.


    is your home.  purpose is to ensure your needs are fulfilled," Mike replied.


    "Mike, my needs are not fulfilled here, and can not be fulfilled  I need to go see my mom, and my dad¡¯s funeral is soon. How are you possibly going to help me with that here? Please, I need to leave.  release you from your service; just tell me how I can get back to the road and to anywhere else but Haven," Suzanne told the impassive white face. She couldn¡¯t keep her voice from breaking a little when she thought about her mom, all alone.


    "I cannot answer that question, Suzanne. My abilities do not include sending you away from Mike  Its voice was not cold or unkind, but a fear gripped Suzanne that she could be stuck here indefinitely.


    "Look, we''ve got a bus full of people out there. If we go out there and tell them all this horse manure about these creepy mannequin fellows wanting to serve us, as long as we stay in this damn place forever and ever, they¡¯re going to riot! And I¡¯ll join them when that kicks off. You''ve got my word on Marvin said.


    "We cannot allow the city to be damaged.  will not harm humans, but attempts to destroy buildings will require us to temporarily incapacitate those who participate in such actions," Mike replied, in its usual calm, placid tones. The group fell silent for a while.


    This has been a lot to take in. I think Marvin is right about one thing.  have to tell everyone else what we found so far," Cecil said eventually. He looked at Suzanne. Suzanne thought that Marvin probably had the right idea about how well they would take this information.

 Back on the road

    "I¡¯m not going to tell those people anything," Marvin said. "They¡¯ll lynch us if they hear any of this. You try it, and they¡¯ll just accuse you of being in on it, mark my words." He stood up. "I¡¯m going back to the bus and taking it as far from this place as possible."


    "We already tried this before. Why would it turn out different this time?" Suzanne asked.


    "I don¡¯t know how they managed to screw with the highway, but there¡¯s got to be a way out. I¡¯ll go off the road this time, if necessary. You two can come along, but don¡¯t you dare tell anyone about Spooky Mike here or I¡¯m leaving you behind." The anger in his voice was palpable, his jaw tense and jutting out. Suzanne thought about a counterargument but realized that there was no obvious alternative. Or rather, the only alternative was to stay, which was out of the question. She looked at Cecil, who shrugged.


    "He¡¯s right. If we get out, fine, then that¡¯s that. We leave with a story we can sell to the tabloids. If we don¡¯t, well-," Cecil said.


    "We¡¯ll cross that bridge when we get to it," Marvin said brusquely. Suzanne and Cecil stood up. Mike remained sitting in the loveseat, not moving, apart from turning its head slightly between them as they spoke.


    "Alright. I¡¯m not staying here," Suzanne said. Marvin marched out the door without looking back. Suzanne turned to Mike and said, "bye." She wasn¡¯t sure why she bothered, but it seemed impolite not to do it.


    "Goodbye, Suzanne," the white being replied. Suzanne glanced at Cecil.


    "I¡¯m with you," he said. They left the house.


    When they got back to the bus, a couple of the other passengers were milling around outside. A chorus of complaining voices went up when they saw the trio returning, mostly directed at Marvin, who held up his hands and raised his voice to announce what they were going to do next.


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    "Sorry folks, this is some sort of giant abandoned film set. Nobody¡¯s in." A few passengers objected, claiming that they were familiar with the area and had never heard of anything of this size being present. The mood was volatile, and Suzanne worried about how much worse it could get. "Yeah, I know, I drive here as a job, remember? Maybe it¡¯s the military¡¯s and they kept it secret. I don¡¯t know, okay? We¡¯ll get on the road again and look for the exit," Marvin said to the small crowd of irate passengers.


    The grumbling died down somewhat, and eventually everyone had filed back into the bus, and they were off again. Suzanne and Cecil looked at each other briefly before sitting down. She watched the strange city roll past as the bus accelerated. Soon they had left the last houses behind and were on the open road again.


    Outside, the landscape rolled past. Suzanne stared out of the window, hoping to see a road sign leading anywhere, anywhere at all, as long as it was away from Haven. Suddenly, the bus came to a shuddering halt as Marvin fully stepped into the brakes. The maneuver threw her forward in her seat, and Suzanne braced her arms against the front seat to avoid being slammed into it head first. Some others weren¡¯t quick enough, apparently, and cried out in pain.


    Suzanne stood up and pushed her way through a small crowd of other passengers that were mobbing Marvin, who was shouting back. Behind the windscreen was the reason he¡¯d stopped: a huge gray wall blocked their way. She couldn¡¯t see the top of it from her spot right beside the window. How had Marvin missed it until the bus almost collided with it?


    "That wasn¡¯t here just a moment ago! The thing just popped up out of nowhere! What, you think I¡¯m blind?" he protested loudly. He restarted the motor that had gone out and put the bus in reverse. As they drove backwards, the wall changed. At first it seemed to bend slightly so that the vertical wall became a very steep slope, but after a while the whole thing had folded down so far that it became clear that what they thought was a wall was simply the road itself. As they backed up even further, any sign of an incline disappeared. In front of them was nothing more than an empty road. Marvin stopped the motor. "I just can¡¯t believe this," he said wearily, putting his head in his hands.


    "Marvin, can you open the door please?" Suzanne said. He looked up at her and nodded, looking defeated. The door swung open.

 End of the Road

    Suzanne once again stood outside. A few others had followed her out and stood beside the bus with her. They all looked towards the distance, along the road that had somehow been a wall a moment ago.


    "Hey," she heard someone say behind her: Cecil. They looked at each other. He and she, along with Marvin, had so far had the most "experience", if you could call it that, with this strange place after their meeting earlier with Mike, the "servant". Compared to that, a mutating road seemed less weird, she thought, but now the entire group would find out that they were in a place where things were far from ordinary. It worried her a bit; we¡¯ll find out in a moment how the rest will take it, she thought.


    She walked forward, following the road. Cecil followed, and they were walking side by side. For the moment, the rest of the passengers seemed content to watch them. After a few steps, they saw the road change as it had before, just in reverse: it inclined slightly, as if someone was lifting the land in front of them up gently but inexorably. She glanced sideways at Cecil, who clearly was seeing it too. They continued. With every step, the incline increased until they stood before a gray wall again. It wasn¡¯t just the road that had folded up: the land beside it had gone vertical as well. Dry desert soil reached into the sky, although now it wasn¡¯t exactly the sky. When she looked up, she could still see the horizon as it had been before, but instead of being in front of them, now it was above them. The effect was disorientating.


    "Can you go any further?" A voice Suzanne didn¡¯t recognize shouted behind them. She turned around and saw a bespectacled middle-aged man with a shock of gray hair and a short full beard. A few steps behind him stood a sullen-looking younger man who resembled him strongly.


    "No, the road¡¯s just a wall   have to climb straight up to get any further," she shouted back.


    "From here it looks like you¡¯re standing on a rising road," came the reply from the older passenger. He walked up to them, with his younger companion following. Well, blow me down.  is quite something, ain¡¯t he said, his head tilted far back, staring up into the sky. The younger man did the same and swore crudely, at which the older man slapped him hard in the chest with the back of his hand. "Rory! Watch your damn he shouted, then turned to them and said in a normal voice, "You¡¯ve got to excuse my son. He forgets his manners sometimes." Suzanne had seen Cecil wince at the sudden violence. "And I¡¯ve forgotten mine as well, it  The name¡¯s Fleisher, Tobias Fleisher. This here¡¯s my son, Rory. Rory, say hello to the nice " Rory looked at the floor and mumbled something. He looked to be about twenty years old, certainly not older than twenty-five, but his behavior and the way he held himself made Suzanne think he was less mature than his biological age would indicate. Rory was a lanky six-foot tall, a head higher than his slightly paunchy father, but seemed smaller due to his slightly hunched posture.


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    "Nice to meet you, Mister   Rory," Suzanne said. Cecil said a quick ¡®Hi¡¯ as well.


    "Hi," Rory mumbled, not looking at either of their faces.


    Suzanne couldn¡¯t think of him  Tobias¡¯ for some reason) approached the wall/road and poked it with a finger. He shook his head.


    I know I¡¯m not dreaming, even though this sure feels like a nightmare. How is this " Fleisher said to the group. Suzanne shrugged. Cecil shook his head slightly. Suzanne noticed a few more people coming up from the bus now, Marvin among them. She walked to the edge of the wall/road where the concrete turned into sandy vertical ground. Her hand dug into the soil slightly, and she grabbed a handful of it. It fell down, which was "her" down, toward the ground she currently stood on. She entertained the idea of following the ground/wall to search for an exit for a moment, but pushed the thought away. They were being kept here by effective but totally inexplicable means, and whatever was going on here was centered on the strange city, Haven, and the creatures that called themselves servants that waited for them in the empty houses. Suzanne was convinced now that if there was a way out, it would be somewhere in the city, not out here. Maybe they could figure it out if they had more people looking at the problem, meaning everyone on the bus, not just her and Cecil and Marvin.


    "I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on either. But there¡¯s something we saw in the city earlier that could help explain Suzanne said. Cecil frowned for a moment, but he seemed to understand that they had no other choice but to come clean to everyone.


    "Ah yeah? What did you " Fleisher asked. Marvin and the rest of the bus passengers arrived. Suzanne rubbed her tired eyes for a moment. It had been a long day already. She took a deep breath, and addressed the gathered group.

 Explaining the Inexplicable

    The rest of the passengers flowed around Suzanne, approaching the impossible road/wall ahead. She watched as some pawed at it with their hands; a few were staring in open-mouthed disbelief, while others looked angry, as if the bizarre phenomenon offended them on a personal level. Some hung back, as if worried the thing might fold backward and squash them all like a brick dropping on a troop of ants. A dozen conversations were going on simultaneously. Suzanne saw Marvin walking towards the wall and extending his hand to touch it.


    People were looking at Suzanne expectantly. She suddenly felt very exposed. Although she didn¡¯t expect a reaction as hostile as what Marvin had predicted, they would likely judge her until they found out the truth for themselves. "Let them," she thought. She¡¯d always loathed secrecy.


    "I went inside one of the houses earlier," she began. No need to mention Cecil and Marvin, for now. She noticed more of the crowd falling quiet and turning to her as she spoke. "There was someone inside. I thought it was just a mannequin at first. You know, like those things they use in stores to show clothes. This person looked like they were wearing a mannequin costume." She winced as Rory Fleisher suddenly laughed loudly and shrilly; he stopped abruptly when his father grabbed his right ear and pulled his head down to his level.


    "Be quiet, and let the lady talk," Tobias Fleisher hissed in his son¡¯s face. The young man stammered apologetically until his father let go again, but Suzanne caught a flash of furious anger on his face before it dissolved into a fearful expression. Fleisher motioned for Suzanne to continue without saying anything.


    "So the mannequin kept asking me if I needed anything, and I said I just wanted to get out of this weird town. They never answered that one. They just kept asking if they could do anything for me. I got fed up and made a sarcastic joke about wanting fried turkey and champagne, and they walked into the kitchen and brought me some. They somehow made it in a few seconds." She noticed Marvin observing her quietly, trying to keep his face blank, but unable to totally conceal his worry. The crowd were all quietly listening now. She half expected more of them to laugh, like Rory had, but they were, after all, standing beside a road that had folded up into the sky; that was just about as insane as the story she was telling.


    "I got pretty creeped out and ran out of there. Then we went back there together," she said, looking directly at Marvin, who was still unwilling to join the conversation. "That time, the mannequin said that the house was mine now, because I¡¯d chosen it. And, they knew my name. I don¡¯t know how, I never told them." Suzanne decided to gloss over the fact that they had ended up locked in a brawl; it wouldn¡¯t help to bring that up now.


    "We tried to get them to explain what this place is, its history and so forth. They claimed they didn¡¯t know, or of any way to get away from Haven. They called themselves a servant, and said they¡¯d do whatever the owner of the house asked for, to the best of their ability. That includes making food out of thin air. Don¡¯t ask me how, they just could. It almost sounded like they wanted us to settle down here, and never leave again. We came back to the bus after that." She looked at the crowd. Most of them looked stunned and confused. A few were exclaiming and swearing, but not many. A few smiled disbelievingly and chuckled, but it didn¡¯t look genuine to her; they had ample evidence of very strange things going on.


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    "Look, I don¡¯t want to be here. I bet none of you want to be here either. I was on the way to my dad¡¯s funeral, and I can¡¯t stand the idea of my mom worrying where I am, or missing the funeral altogether. I know you have questions, a million of them, but I¡¯m not the one to answer them." She waved a hand at the road/wall.


    "Who could even do something like this? I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on here, but I¡¯d bet anything it¡¯s not just some sort of prank. We are being kept here, and the only answers we are gonna get are back in the city. Of that I¡¯m sure now."


    "You bet there¡¯s gonna be answers! I¡¯ll beat it out of them, and then we¡¯re gonna see who¡¯s getting pranked," a large man with graying hair and a mustache shouted from the back of the crowd. A few more voices joined in approvingly to this; Suzanne held up both hands.


    "No, don¡¯t get violent. That¡¯s not going to work! We-", she started, but Marvin interrupted her.


    "I pulled a gun on the thing when we met, and it just reached across the room faster than I could look and grabbed it from me. I don¡¯t think it would¡¯ve made a difference if I¡¯d shot it. Suzanne here bashed it in the head with a rock over and over, and it didn¡¯t even seem to notice. Didn¡¯t leave a scratch. I don¡¯t know what it¡¯s made of, but whatever it is, it¡¯s not a guy in a suit. It¡¯s, I don¡¯t know, some sort of machine. And there¡¯s more of them, it said, probably at least one in every building in the city. Three of us couldn¡¯t do a thing to just one, even with a weapon. You¡¯d just break your arm if you tried to take a swing at it." Suzanne had a sinking feeling in her stomach as Marvin recounted the one-sided fight. She was glad he¡¯d apparently decided to join her in being honest and forthcoming about what they¡¯d seen, but wished he¡¯d said it in a less blunt manner. A few of the passengers were visibly disturbed by the violent episode; an older lady was crying openly.


    "They don¡¯t want to hurt us," Suzanne shouted over the upset crowd. "Yes, we got into a fight, but we started it. It didn¡¯t even fight back, it just held us and took everything we dished out until we were too tired to go on. They were completely peaceful, as long as you don¡¯t get violent."


    "Did you say they made you food earlier? Did I hear that right?", a calm voice asked. Suzanne realized Tobias Fleisher had addressed her.


    "Yeah, that¡¯s right. I didn¡¯t try the food, but it looked real enough," she replied.


    "I don¡¯t know about you, but I didn¡¯t bring dinner with me. I could use a bathroom too, to be honest. Getting old, ya know." He winked at her. His son stood beside him and glowered.


    "I¡¯m hungry," Rory said.


    "It¡¯s getting late; the sun¡¯s going down already. There¡¯s no point in staying out here. I say we go back into the city and figure out what to do next there, before we¡¯re all too hungry and exhausted to think straight," Cecil said, finally joining the conversation. She nodded at him; the young man had seemed a bit socially awkward and somewhat overly formal to her in the short time she knew him, but she appreciated his calm and logical manner of thinking.


    "Yeah, we might as well drive back now. Unless someone has a better idea?" Marvin asked the crowd, mostly rhetorically. Nobody seemed to disagree. What else could they do at this point anyway, Suzanne thought. Marvin turned towards the bus and started walking, muttering something angry under his breath the whole time. The crowd started following him, and Suzanne followed them.

 Introductions

    The bus was back where they had first parked. Suzanne worried about the passenger¡¯s reaction to seeing Mike in the flesh, as it were. Being told about the strange being was one thing, but seeing and talking to it up close was another altogether. She exited the bus again. She decided to walk straight to the townhouse; as she set off, she noticed almost everyone following behind. Looking back for a moment, she noticed a few people remaining on the bus. The older lady she¡¯d seen crying earlier was peering anxiously after them behind a window. There''s nothing she could do about that right now. She continued onward towards the tiny neighbourhood of three houses that seemed like it had been cut out of some city and dropped into the middle of this small piece of land. When they were still maybe half a block away, she felt her head hurting briefly, but it went away as quickly as it came. She grimaced. Hadn''t this happened before as well? she wondered. She wasn¡¯t really prone to migraines, but maybe the extraordinary stress of their situation made them more likely.


    "It looks like Brooklyn," a young woman wearing a baseball cap said to a young man beside her. Suzanne stood at the base of the stairs of the middle building, the one that was "her¡¯s", according to Mike. The passengers had formed a half circle around her and were looking up at the entrance door expectantly. It was closed again.


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    "This is the one," Suzanne announced to the crowd. She tried to assess their mood. Nobody looked excessively angry, for which she was thankful, though there were a few visibly unhappy faces, which was hardly surprising. There was a feeling of nervous anticipation in the air, which yearned to be quenched. She decided there was nothing left to do but rip off the band-aid and get it over with. She walked up the stairs and rang the doorbell. She wondered if Mike would come to the door because it seemed like he wouldn''t come near it unless he was asked, but she didn''t have to worry because she heard clinking footsteps approaching the door, and it opened. Mike stood in the doorway.


    "Hello, Suzanne. I noticed you approaching. You don¡¯t need to ring the bell to come in; after all, this is your home," Mike said. Behind her, Suzanne heard the crowd gasp and mutter.

 Frustration

    ¡°Thanks, Mike. There¡¯s some people here who would like to talk to you,¡± Suzanne said, glancing over her shoulder to the crowd at the base of the stairs. ¡°I¡¯ve told them a little about Haven, but I¡¯d like you to repeat to them what you told me earlier. Could you do that for me?¡± She stepped aside to stand a little off from the open entrance door, leaving the servant in full view of the passengers.


    The sun hung low in the sky by now; Mike¡¯s smooth body gleamed in its golden light. Suzanne got the clearest view of the being up to now. No blemishes or any signs of wear were visible on the white material of the servant¡¯s body. Inside it had looked like some kind of white plastic to Suzanne, but in the radiance of the evening sun it was clear that it must be something else. The surface was translucent to an almost imperceptible degree, she now noticed. The light penetrated to maybe the depth of an apple peel and was reflected again, giving it a marble-like glow, although unlike marble there were no patterns whatsoever. Mike stepped outside. It was slightly taller than Suzanne, but not intimidatingly large. The body was humanoid and had the proportions of an adult, but was completely devoid of any signs of gender. Mike¡¯s movements were completely smooth and somehow didn¡¯t disturb the surface of the body at all. If there muscles moving inside the body, they didn¡¯t reveal themselves by any rippling under the skin, but neither did Mike move stiffly like a robot, with rigid limbs connected to a torso block, turning around fixed axes at the joints.


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    Suzanne wasn¡¯t sure how she could ever have mistaken it for a simple mannequin earlier. She remembered photos of early computer-generated images she¡¯d seen in old magazines: convincingly realistic in some aspects, but far too clean and wrong in small, hard to describe ways that marked them as clearly fake. Out here in the sunlight Mike evoked the same feeling of only almost being real, yet was very solid and obviously, unmistakably present at the same time.


    ¡°What the hell are you supposed to be!?¡± an older male voice rang out from below. It was the large, mustachioed man who had threatened to beat up whoever was responsible for their predicament earlier. He started climbing the stairs, fists balled, with an expression of barely contained fury on his face. Others, maybe encouraged by the large man¡¯s initiative, started loudly and angrily airing their frustration as well. Suzanne¡¯s stomach sank with a deep dread; the situation was already getting out of control.

 Chapter 13 - Restraint

    Mike turned its head slightly towards the angry man climbing the steps, clearly noticing him but showing no sign of agitation.


    "Hey, calm down! Just let him talk!" Suzanne shouted at the man, who walked up to Mike until they were nearly face to-face. He towered over Mike by almost a head and was of substantially broader build, although she doubted his brawn would make a difference considering Mike¡¯s ability to shrug off physical punishment. She feared more that someone might get hurt if this spiraled out of control. The man stood mere inches from Mike and leaned forward, pushing into the impassive being, who still showed no reaction and hadn¡¯t shifted position at all.


    "You don¡¯t scare me! You¡¯re gonna show us how to get out of this circus, or I swear I¡¯m gonna kick you down the stairs!" The man wore blue jeans and a flannel jacket, and Suzanne got the impression that he wasn¡¯t a stranger to drastic acts of violence. He pushed a thick, callused index finger into Mike¡¯s shiny chest and started shouting right in his face.


    "I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t tell you about the way out of Haven, sir. Please choose a dwelling you would like to inhabit, and we will provide anything you require to make your life here comfortable," Mike responded in his calm, clear voice. The man leaned back, seeming to contemplate the answer for a second, then threw a straight, well-practiced looking punch with surprising speed right at Mike¡¯s head. Below, several people cried out in alarm. The fist made a heavy slapping noise as it impacted, and Suzanne saw the gleaming head wobble and ripple from the point of contact for a moment, as if it was a balloon filled with jelly. The servant stood unmoved otherwise; its feet didn¡¯t even move. The man danced backward, standing on his toes with his fists up in a boxing stance. He looked surprised that Mike didn¡¯t cry out, let alone was still standing. Suzanne wondered if Mike had actually made its head softer so the man didn¡¯t break all his knuckles. When she had hit Mike in the head with the heavy ornament earlier, it had seemed hard as steel.


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    "Get off him, you idiot! How¡¯s this going to help?" Suzanne shouted at the man. He turned slightly in her direction, his fists still up.


    "Shut up, lady, I don''t trust you either!" he snarled.


    "I have to ask you to refrain from doing that again, sir. I can¡¯t allow you to injure yourself," Mike said calmly, matter-of-factly. This had the opposite effect of what was intended. The man snarled and snapped a vicious uppercut at Mike¡¯s solar plexus area. His fist slammed into the white material, which wobbled like rubber and then suddenly erupted, as if he¡¯d punched the surface of a pool of white paint. Someone below screamed. The white stuff detached itself from Mike¡¯s body and flowed up the screaming man¡¯s arm. It fragmented in a peculiar, almost geometric pattern, leaving behind mesh-like white lines over his skin.


    "Mike, no, stop it! What are you doing?" Suzanne shouted. The white lines had covered the man¡¯s entire body in a matter of seconds. He was standing up straight, arms by his side, in a seemingly relaxed position, but was still screaming.


    "I can¡¯t feel my body! I can¡¯t move! Get it off me!" he shouted, panicked. The passengers at the base of the stairs were shouting as well. Suzanne could hear some people crying.


    "Mike, please! Let him go, he¡¯s learned his lesson," she said urgently to the servant.


    "I¡¯m afraid that is not within my power, Suzanne. The restraint mesh will remain until there is sufficient evidence that he will not further endanger himself or others. He will be perfectly fine to move if he relaxes and curbs any aggressive impulses."


    "You can¡¯t just put him in shackles like that, that¡¯s inhumane! Please, let him go, we¡¯ll talk to him, I¡¯m sure he¡¯s learned his lesson!"


    "You misunderstand, Suzanne. This is not my doing. The restraint mesh is separate from myself, and only it will determine when it detaches from him again." Suzanne stared, grasping for something to say. She saw several passengers had run off towards the bus, screaming. The situation had gone as wrong as it possibly could, it seemed to her.