July 8^th, 2085, 13:02h - Stade Royale, Montréal

In her provided earpiece, sitting three rows back from the Blue Jays dugout, Ruby could hear the English announcers as they spoke to all of those outside of the nation of Québec, an independent country within the NATO Superstate. With Harry asleep to her left, and Tess looking about ready to throw down to her right, she sipped her beer and kept her NIC implanted in her seat’s betting terminal. Ruby and Tess were dressed head to toe in Blue Jays gear, while Harry looked like he’d been pulled off the street and given a quick runover with a comb.

Swan: “This is Rick Swan speaking. For those of you just joining in, we’re at the bottom of the sixth and it is a been a rough road trip for the Jays as they take on the Expos here in the city of Montréal. Nice stadium, wouldn’t want to go outside it. I’m joined by my co-host, Lacy Yardley, as she fills in for my usual co-host Maxwell Ford who’s in hospital for an extreme case of testicular torsion.”

Yardley: “Glad I don’t have those! Get well soon, Max. I sent chocolates, they’re good. I’m sure they’ll help.”

Swan: “I saw him, they will not. But they were delicious.”

Yardley: “Anyways, it’s 4-9 and the Expos have a man on first and third with only one out, it looks like the Jays won’t improve their 38-75 record anytime soon, as pitcher Tyson Waller and catcher Sam Lister seem to be having trouble communicating.”

Swan: “I bet they miss those Old-World devices.”

Yardley: “Yes, sign stealing has once again become an art form since the NATO Baseball League sought to return the game to its roots, but we’re glad to have had it back since 2068. On the plus side, no pitch clock, which means fans can go and enjoy grabbing a dog and a beer without missing three innings.”

Swan: “You’d think baking in 43-degree heat would encourage them to speed the game back up, but getting more roasted than your dog is a valued baseball tradition.”

Tess’ fist was clenched. “If Lister drops one more wild pitch I’m going down there.”

“I wish they let us keep our guns. When did Montreal become so square?” Ruby idly flipped through the screen, checking the status of their bets. “But the last time I was here it was 2005, so I should have expected some things to change.”

“Watch, this fucker’s going to give up another dinger.”

“Well, if he does, I make 2000 marks. It’s shit, but all the bet lines for Expos are way in the positives.” Ruby lifted her ballcap and poured water on her hair, having swapped from cropped black to extended brown bangs and shoulder-length hair that may not have been the best summer decision.

“You’re betting against your own team?!”

“I’m betting to make some money!”

“Naw, fuck that.” Tess punched in her own bet, betting that the Jays would lead after the eighth. “See? Patriotism.”

“Relax.” Ruby put her feet up on the seat in front of her, annoying the woman sitting there. “It’s not like we’re here to play nice with these separatists.”

“Careful now.” Tess pointed a finger at Ruby. “Remember where I was born.”

“Your people spent centuries getting railed by the English; here the English gave them everything and they still kicked up a fuss. Then they broke off and went a little crazy, if the drive in is anything to go off. That’s the beauty of Toronto, everyone from everywhere doing everything.”

“Guess you’ve got a point.” Tess considered. “Now is Waller gonna get his shit together, or we gonna watch him crack again? Fuckin’ manager’s fault, he pulled Dolton off just to put him in, and Waller’s not even a relief pitcher!”

“Reminds me of the ’23 playoffs.”

“You’re a sack of bones held together by ultra premium glue; you know that?”

“And yet, I still look better than you.” Ruby laughed. Tess was about to respond by flexing her muscles before they saw the wind-up.

Swan: “Pitcher’s count: 1 and 2, and here’s the pitch and- OH.”

Yardley: “His third bean of the game! Right in the arm.”

Swan: “It seems Deslys is hurt! He’s really hurt! 148km four-seamer straight below the elbow, the man is staggering towards first base.”

Yardley: “Doesn’t look like he’ll get the chance, the Expos dugout has emptied and the fans are calling for Blue Jay blood!”

Swan: “Jays now all on the field and collapsing in on them, we’ve got ourselves a proper brawl brewing!”

Yardley: “The Jays are forming a Waller wall, but the Expos are right on ‘em and- wait, who’s that? A fan has launched herself over the Jays dugout and is heading straight for the fight- no! She’s headed for Lister! She’s a Jays fan and she just tried to pull of Lister’s mask before deciding to just lay into him!”

Swan: “A Jays fan coming in to fight a Jays player? Well, given this season, this was only a matter of time.”

Yardley: “Wait, I know those moves! That’s Tess ‘The Claymore’ Sims! She came second in the recent Toronto MMA Championship.”

Swan: “Why do they call her ‘The Claymore’?”

Yardley: “Because she doesn’t give a fuck about your defenses, she just cleaves on through!”

Swan: “It’s not amateur hour for fan meddling, people! This chick’s sounds like the real deal!”

Ruby got a flash bet notice on her terminal, with a bar quickly counting down to expiry. It read: ‘Over/Under Bet of 4: Security Guards Tess ‘The Claymore’ Sims will knock to the ground before being subdued.’ Ruby put 250,000 marks on the Over while Harry continued to sleep beside her.

Yardley: “One down! Sims wasn’t playing, with Lister begging for mercy she’s turned her attention to security!”

Swan: “And with that out come the taser rods! Ever get hit with one of those?”

Yardley: “This morning!”

Swan: “Then that’s a story I’ll have to get from you after- TWO DOWN! And now The Claymore’s got herself a rod of her own!”

Yardley: “She’s squaring up against three on one side, and three behind her now- except she’s thrown her taser away! She’s going to fight like a true Torontonian! At least when we’re out of ammo.”

Swan: “I’m still pissed I had to put my gun in a locker.”

Yardley: “She’s going to- OH, is that it?! A full taser blow from behind, but no- she’s going feral on the man that did it!”

Swan: “Is she augmented?”

Yardley: “Yes, but none of them help in combat, she was cleared to compete in the non-augmented bracket.”

Swan: “So the fact she just tore that man’s helmet off and is now beating him to a pulp with those muscles is all her? Wow, I bet some of our viewers must be really into this!”

Yardley: “I’m practically slippin’ off my chair, Swan. Aren’t you glad we’re broadcasting to Canada and not Québec?”

Swan: “I’m fucking cunt happy, the Pope can eat Max’s balls if that team of twelve specialists can’t fix them.”

Yardley: “That’s three down, but now they’re swarming! She’s ducking and weaving and using one as a battering ram against the others, but I don’t think she’s got a way out!”

Swan: “We should probably check on the Jays and Expos brawl.”

Yardley: “No one gives a fuck; the camera hasn’t been pointed at them since Sims started beating that man with his own helmet.”

Swan: “FOUR! THAT’S FOUR ON THE FLOOR! CAN SHE DO ONE MORE?!”

Yardley: “I don- oh! Oh, that’s a strike, right across the back of her head at full power it seemed. I could practically feel the electricity!”

Swan: “She’s down! One… two… three…”

Yardley: “This isn’t MMA, the cuffs are on and there’s a boot on her head.”

Swan: “For those of you who placed bets, we’re afraid it’s a push. They’re carrying her off the field…”

Yardley: “AND SHE NAILS THE DUDE BEHIND HER RIGHT IN THE KNEECAPS WITH A KICK TO EACH ONE! But will he go down?! He’s leaning forward… knees bent, and- HE’S DOWN! Five, and the Over wins!”

One-tenth of the stadium, mostly Jays fans stood up and started cheering and applauding. Ruby was among them, leaping out of her chair as the betting terminal displayed her winnings. She started yelling, “That’s my girl! Fuck yes, Tess! Fuck yes, Tess!” Her chant caught on with the winners around her.

Swan: “I think she’s done now; they’ve cuffed her ankles together.”

Yardley: “Given she just beat the ever-loving crap out of five men, and was a spectator who entered the play area, they’re treating her real nice while escorting her away.”

Swan: “You pull that shit at the Skydome and you’re waking up in one of University Ave’s shittier hospitals.”

Yardley: “This is a weird town, Rick.”

Swan: “I can’t wait to leave… for one month, then we’re back here.”

Yardley: “I’d say at least you’ll have Max back, but…”

Swan: “At least getting a case of testicular torsion which caught the attention of NATO’s entire medical world meant he didn’t have to come to Montréal.”

Ruby pulled her NIC, automatically settling for the lowball offers on the bets with unresolved outcomes but they hardly mattered after Tess’ unwitting performance. She shook Harry awake.

Harry opened his eyes, and even with sunglasses had to shield himself from the light. “Is it over? Did we win?”

“Come on, they won’t top that, and I gotta go bail Tess out. Then the mission. Go get Clockwork.”

“I can’t. I’m not allowed on that tier of the stadium. Dude’s membership in that New-World Gentlemen’s Club has him in a VIP box. I probably can’t even get up the stairs.”

Ruby reached into her purse and slapped one million strapped together marks into his hand. “Now you can. Meet us at the car for the mission.”

Beneath the stadium, having followed the signs reading ‘CAUTION ET AMENDES’ in red, Ruby arrived at the front desk. Behind a wire fence, a man in a suit and tie sat typing at a computer terminal. He was about to greet Ruby with ‘Bonjour’, but seeing the Jays jersey made him sigh and say, “Hello. What do you want?”

“Jess Sims.” Ruby unrolled a handful of marks. “What’s the damage?”

The man typed in Jess’s name and began reading off the itemized list of her fines. “Unauthorized access to the play area: 50’000 marks. Assaulting a player, normally the Ecclesial Ministry would press charges but given he was a Canadian citizen, that would be… Fine paid, by numerous parties from Toronto. There’s a note saying he will not be pressing charges, submitted by the Blue Jays Chief Public Relations Officer. However, she assaulted seven officers of the peace, another felony, but they were acting on NATO’s behalf, so the fine is 125’000 marks apiece meaning 875’000 marks.”

Ruby was secretly proud of her friend but had to pay the fine via NIC and put the cash back in her pocket. She pulled her NIC out and was about to click it into the payment terminal before the man spoke again.

“I’m not done, Miss.” His tone was so tired, but Ruby felt like he was trying to offend her. “Blasphemous remarks against God and the Lord Jesus Christ…”

“This is a NLB stadium, according to the NATO Events Act no nation can fine an individual for speech infractions while they were within a NATO venue.”

“Québec won special dispensation four years ago.”

Ruby folded her arms, “Getting to ‘keep your culture and faith’ by banning other faiths and instituting this Handmaid’s Tale shit, and you’re still asking for special treatment? We should have buried you after the Plains of Abraham and been done with it.”

The man’s eyes looked straight at hers. “We are the Sovereign Nation of Québec.”

“You’re a bunch of abandoned children hoping that daddy France will come back from getting cigarettes centuries after he left with that Haiti floozy because she had all that sweet, sweet sugar. He’s never gonna love you! Even been to France? They think you talk like mongrels, and every year they like your language less and less.”

“If you weren’t standing within a NATO venue, I’d have you arrested.”

“But we are, bitch. So, let’s keep this moving.”

The man buried his anger deep down and read off the blasphemy fine. “Fourteen counts of blasphemy, at 350 marks each is 4’900 marks.”

“Fine, charge my card.”

“There’ll be a 500 mark processing fee.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Charge the card.”

The transfer took a few minutes, as it needed to access Québec’s central bank and then have it handshake with the bank account on Ruby’s NIC in Toronto, while verifying the transaction with the master server NATO held in France. However, despite being in separate nations, Canada and Québec still found themselves bound underneath the Superstate, and that meant a shared currency at least. Québec had four years of ‘freedom’ from 2038 to 2042 before realizing NATO surrounded them and was growing in power and reluctantly joined after a referendum.

After eighteen minutes of the most awkward silence imaginable as Ruby stood to the side and lit a cigarette and casually let her puffs reach the man’s face, tension was so thick only her katana could even hope to cut it.

Finally, an angry, belligerent, bloodied Tess shook off the guards’ arms and was released from behind barred doors. “Yeah? We’ll see if the ban goes through! Maybe if you cosplaying French fucks get down on your hands and knees and suck off your saviour who ate shit and died, you’ll get that ban!”

Ruby reached into her pocket and found some change, sliding three 100 mark coins and one 50 mark coin across the counter to the man.

“Tess, shut your mouth! You have any idea how much this has cost?”

The man at the counter was keeping track, “930’750 marks. Would you like to keep going?”

“I know how to count, Fleur-de-fuck!”

“With Toronto’s education system, I couldn’t be sure. Au revoir, le connards!”

Piling into Ruby’s daily ride, a four seat 2078 United American Motors ‘Dodge’ Challenger, with Tess at her side she lit four cigarettes in her mouth and passed them around. Harry refused, but Ruby told him, “You’re either smoking directly, or gonna be breathing in our exhaust the whole way. Oh, and conceal all your weapons; Clockwork stow that LMG in the locker under the back seats.” That reminded her, “Clockwork, where’s the target garage?”

“1553 Rue Viel.” He gave her a pat on the shoulder, “Would you like directions?”

Ruby paused for a moment, “No. I know where that is. Are you sure, isn’t that a residential area?”

“Only until Québec’s independence, at which point the vacant homes stemming from the death of more than half the world’s population, coupled with their xenophobic policies, led to the area being nearly abandoned, before it gradually turned into quite a beautiful town nestled within Montréal by the year 2068.” Clockwork seemed pleased with himself. “Would you like recommendations on places to ea…”

Before he got a chance to finish, Ruby tore out of the parking garage before remembering she had to be on her best behaviour and avoided doing what she’d done in May with Mikea riding beside her.

Montréal was glorious in the full light of the summer day. From the North-West along the St. Lawrence where the Stade Royale was located, to the South-East where their destination was, every neighbourhood in the city was out of an idyllic vision of the 1960’s. With virtually no apartment buildings and building codes limiting commercial buildings to twenty storeys (Stade Royale was given an exception, along with there being no limit for Catholic buildings), with cobblestone streets and parkettes demarcated with white sandstone borders, it was borderline distracting for everyone in the car. It looked like the old downtown section had crept in and assimilated the ‘modern’ downtown, at least from Ruby’s perspective. European one-way side-streets, a thriving bicycle culture and infrastructure, and several areas inspired by the 2020s notion of the ‘Fifteen-Minute City’ with walk/ bicycle only pathways which were plentiful.

The squad expected to see the ‘bad side’ of town, given their cross-section tour of the city, but none came. Only single-family homes with impressive rock gardens and foliage up front, neighbours happily chatting with each other, and the only reminder of home being that practically everyone smoked. Tess could even smell fresh baked bread at some point, mixed with the scent of the floral arrangements which lined the commercial buildings along one narrow street. Unbeknownst to everyone but Ruby, beneath them ran one of the most comprehensive subway systems in North America.

Near their target address, Ruby pulled down a side-street and found a legal place to park to avoid more trouble. She felt her sidearm underneath her Jays jersey and went over the plan once more.

“Okay, we’ll never be mistaken for locals so we’re leaning into being from Toronto. Our target…” She pulled the device which Xavier had pressed into the base of her skull. “Is to steal the plans for these and erase everything this garage is working on. Tess, Clockwork, is there anything else you were able to figure out about these things?” Both shook their heads, the device was unique and aside from a basic scan, the inner workings were vexing. “No problem. We split into two groups. Harry, Clockwork, you two sneak through the back.”

Harry interrupted, holding out a small case. “Boss, I did manage to finish work on our short-range communicators.” He opened the synthsilica-glass box, within it were four translucent earpieces, and four stick-on activators. “Everyone take one, then put the activator somewhere you can easily reach it. When you press it, your voice will be broadcast to the rest of us. Hit it twice to continuously broadcast, and twice more to deactivate. We can leverage these to our advantage.” Everyone in the car took one, and most put the activator (which was also translucent and small) somewhere on their hand, easily activated with a finger press. “Maximum range is 200 metres, and the battery’s still not great, but it’s encrypted and will appear to any security sweep as normal background noise. Benefits of low power.”

Ruby fixed the earpiece in and nodded to Harry. “Nice work.” The others agreed. “Okay, to finish the briefing then: The foot traffic’s light around here but watch your six as you find a way to open their security gate. Then get inside, find the server, and grab every one of the devices you see. Then trigger something that looks like a fault in the system and shut that place down. Tess and I are playing wealthy tourists, we’re there to occupy the staff’s time, distracting them enough for you two to get in and out. Everybody copy?” They nodded. “Then let’s fuck these assholes.”

Tess laughed, “If only Mikea were here, she can tear an ass…” She trailed off when she realized Ruby was glaring at her with the fury of an angry Norse god. “Mission start!” She got out of the car as quickly as possible, followed by the others.

Walking in two groups, with Tess and Ruby in the lead, they reached the front doors and took a moment to stare in disbelief. It wasn’t a garage; it was a boutique. ‘Doll Garage’ was a term used to describe these places, and Ruby literally built hers into one’s shell, but while not bound to being literal garages usually there was some utilitarian aspect to each one’s facade. Instead, framed with gold, a sapphire blue oval with pure white calligraphy above the door read: ‘Maison de Poupées’. The boutique windows were lined with linen, with two posed dolls in the two windows which stood beside the front doors. The dolls were dressed in classical, 1700’s inspired finery with a modern flair and their make-up across their porcelain skin was perfect, down to the last line.

Harry and Clockwork were rounding the corner, as Ruby and Tess had stared too long at the entrance, so the two women quickly went inside as to avoid being seen with the second team. When they entered the lobby, which was large and immaculate, with a flowing fountain from the ceiling over a statue of a Doll who wore white robes and seemed to be emerging from a pool, Tess stifled every reaction she wanted to give. Finally leaning to Ruby and whispering, “This place makes our place look like a shit…”

“I know.” Ruby pulled open the doors and they entered the lobby, a place of marble staircases, fine drapery with the Fleur-de-lis, and finally to the woman walking up with a kind smile to greet them. Having already guessed they weren’t from Québec; she didn’t even attempt speaking French.

“Welcome to the Dollhouse! May God bless you on this wonderous day. My name is Saffron, and I’m the proprietess of this place.” Saffron was dressed similarly to the sign out front, in gold accents along a fine floor length dress of sapphire blue, and Ruby could see under the dress’ furls that underneath there was clothing of ivory white, it even flaired out from her cuffs. All buttoned up to the neck, with brown hair tightly bound back. Saffron carried herself in a way to match, daintily and with grace. “Are you two here to learn about our services or are one or both of you seeking conversion.” She winked at Ruby, “We feel you would make a wonderful…”

“Actually,” Ruby interrupted, something which made Saffron blink. “We’re…” Ruby genuinely was unsure if she should play the lesbian couple schtick or not. “Friends, and I dragged this one along because I’d heard such wonderful things. If it’s not too much trouble, and we can certainly compensate you, might we have a tour of your garage? We’re used to doing things the Toronto way and are curious how we stack up.”

Saffron was joined by a Doll in the most spectacular French Maid outfit North America had ever seen. “I see. Well, we really do things differently here, but a tour is not out of the question. However, may the lovely Carrie take your sidearms? We respect your Torontonian ways, but firearms are strictly governed in Québec.” Ruby realized that their Toronto apparel and what she just said would lead to disarmament, but both complied. “Thank you.” Saffron gently curtsied. “They will be returned to you after your tour, but I must say it may not be what you’re expecting.”

“All the more reason, yeah?” Tess smiled. “Why take a tour when you know every f-rig newton thing about a place?”

Saffron observed. “You have the hands of a mechanic. Your friend does not, but she’s the one that brought you here? Are you two related in some way?”

Ruby couldn’t tell if that was a guess, a keen insight, or if Saffron knew something about them. “All right…” She would use the truth to buy currency to lie. “I’m Ruby Eve, I own Toronto Servos, a dollmaker. This is Tess,” She intentionally left out her last name, just in case. “… and she’s our head mechanic.”

Saffron held up her hands in excitement. “Oh! Colleagues of ours from Canada! We’ve never had contact with other dollmakers, what a wonderful treat.” She smiled gracefully. “You wouldn’t be here to steal trade secrets, would you?” The smile turned to a playful smirk.

Ruby told the truth, “We’re not here to steal anything, but Tess would love a chat with your mechanics and data team. Meanwhile, why don’t we chat in that café you’ve got.” She motioned to one on the left. “If you have time, but things seem pretty quiet right now.”

“They are.” Saffron admitted. “It can pick up suddenly, but July is typically a slow month. Summers are always slow for us, it’s in the winter that people have time to contemplate their lives and seek us out. However, we’re always blessed with the occasional surprise like yourselves. Yes, come take a seat with me and we can talk proprietess to… owner?”

“I like boss.”

Tess spoke loud enough to be heard by all of them, “Or Commander works.”

“Tess…” Ruby walked off to the café with Saffron, leaving Tess to wait for the mechanic.

Another doll, in another outfit that women would literally kill for that was both modest and intensely beautiful, with floral patterns expertly hand stiched into white silk approached her and mentioned that she was the head mechanic. Tess looked her over, “Don’t believe that; there’s not a drop of blood on you!”

The Dollhouse mechanic looked concerned, “Do you often walk around in soiled dresses?”

“Do I look like the dressy sorta gal?”

“Right, our mistake. Forgive us.”

“I’ll let it slide if you show me your conversion bay.” Tess subtly clicked her communicator twice.

The mechanic proudly led her to it, “I made it myself; I felt my conversion could have been even more perfect!”

Tess dug deeper, “So you are a Doll, I got a feeling in my gut you were. Are there a lot of dolls working here?”

“My good woman, why do you think we call this the Dollhouse? Is it not the same for you? You look human.”

“I’m stronger than any doll too, well maybe except Mikea but that’s for self-defence while she’s on tour… but then there’s the combat models we’ve got… but I’m human through and through, if you don’t count my genitals.” She looked for signs of shock on the mechanic doll’s face, there wasn’t one. “Naw, we don’t employ any dolls, we sell them. I thought that’s what all garages were in business for.”

The mechanic doll stopped, she seemed confused. “Sell them? A dollmaker generates a living by helping people become who they are, not selling their clients.”

In the café, while making probing small talk with Saffron, Ruby was listened to that entire exchange. She kept her expression pleasant, and even told Saffron about how beautiful her garage was, before trying to think of a different word for it, all while absorbing what had been said. She sipped coffee, made for her by another Doll who once again, dressed modestly but in a perfectly tailored dress whose colours of orange and blue practically radiated light.

When Tess was done speaking, Ruby received another communication from Clockwork. “Greetings Boss, Clockwork here. There was no security gate, and we are already inside building and down in the server room. There is sophisticated encryption, but I can work through it. Also, to update you on Harry, he is searching for the devices that were used on yourself, but so far none have been found. Clockwork, out.”

It was the strangest thing. Ruby had spent decades reading other people’s faces, and during their light conversation, while she held her expression in line with expectations, she had seen Saffron’s tweak slightly, she did so as Tess was talking. Did she know about their communicators? But if she did, then she’d know that they had a team in their server room, yet Saffron seemed none the wiser.

Ruby kept what she was hearing in the back of her mind, while continuing to distract Saffron. “If you don’t mind my asking, given your speech patterns and perfect articulation of both word and body, you’re a Doll, aren’t you?”

“I am.” Saffron sat up and brushed out her dress before giving a perfect curtsey. “We have been given permission by Montréal to continue operating this establishment, for all the good that we do.”

“Good that you do?” Ruby had noted how Saffron kept referring to such things. “What do you mean?”

“We don’t create Dolls and sell them like you do.”

A line Ruby picked up on, as Saffron had said they hadn’t had contact with other garages, nor showed any prior knowledge of Toronto Servos. Years of interrogation training beckoned her to go further, especially since it meant their communications may be monitored. She politely excused herself and asked if there was a washroom for biological visitors.

Saffron was happy to point her to one by the café’s bar and Ruby locked herself inside. Double-tapping the button, Ruby simply said, “Central office team three, execute directive. Take everything there. Raid the safes, take relevant files, burn any that aren’t of value, and prepare to shoot your way out. We’re gonna kill every Doll in this place. All other teams complete your objectives quickly. Radio silence until I broadcast again.” She turned off her communicator, then flushed the toilet, turned on the bidet for a few moments, before washing her hands thoroughly and left the bathroom. She found Saffron still sitting at their table, and the Doll welcomed Ruby back.

“We’ve forgotten what waste is like but will have a maid clean any residual grime.”

Ruby placed her hands on the table and held down the button. “All clear now. No need to worry.” It wasn’t their communicators, and thus it was something to do with Saffron outside of their influence. “You said you don’t create and sell Dolls; then how do you earn a living?”

“Conversions, of course! Are those who come to you interested in being sold? Is it a common fantasy in Toronto?”

Ruby knew answering that question, even lying, would pose a threat and instead asked, “What kind of conversions are popular in Montréal? We get all sorts, you must as well.”

Saffron enjoyed a sip of coffee, “Being a Doll is to be free. Every desire you have aligned with what you must be. While some are comfortable with the expectations placed upon them, others come to us for conversion into Dollhood, to become better members of society.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“We serve mostly housewives, Québec society fosters strong family units, who feel unfulfilled in their role. We turn them into perfect wives and can even preserve the womb and ovaries so that they may continue to provide children. They leave us perfectly programmed with everything they need, and what they need is also what they desire. We’ve helped over a hundred…”

Ruby’s calm attentiveness broke. “You Stepfordize them? Hundreds?”

“We’re not familiar with that phrase.” Saffron looked disappointed in herself.

“It’s an old movie from the 1970’s, about a community where the husbands basically turn their biological wives into perfect Dolls (as we’d know them), to be the perfect wives. It’s one of my favourites, gave me a lot of inspiration over the years.”

“Science-fiction meets reality, now desiring wives may experience ‘Stepfordization’! A film ahead of its time, no wonder you enjoy it, we wonder if people back then appreciated what was possible.”

Ruby was catching on, and decided to press on Saffron slightly, “It wasn’t consensual. The wives were taken and turned into Dolls at their husband’s demand, not their request. The film was a horror of sorts.”

Saffron was shaken by the thought and attempted to rationalize it. “It was a different time. We don’t do that here.”

Ruby had been planning for this moment. “Then explain this.” She reached into her pocket and slammed the device used to control her onto the wrought iron table. “This came from your shop, did it not?” Saffron would have dropped her cup if she were human. She reached for the device, but Ruby put her hand over it. “So, you do recognize it. Does this seem consensual?”

A Doll quietly went to the front door and turned around the ‘Open’ sign and locked the door before returning to her duties. Saffron withdrew her hand, and Ruby allowed her to see the device again. Saffron was shaking, “It has blood on it. Someone used it.”

“I’ve got three pronged scars on the back of my head from when it was jammed into me!” Ruby was finally allowing her anger to flow. “They took me from behind and made me some sudo-Doll! And no, I did not fucking,” Saffron winced at the language, “… want that to happen.”

Saffron pushed her coffee away; she had lost her desire for it. “You became its victim?”

Ruby wanted answers, “Is this from your shop or not?” She noted that every Doll she could see was fighting shivers, it was a slight change, but the maid sweeping the lobby at the far end had nearly dropped her broom when Ruby slammed the device on the table.

“Yes!” Saffron pleaded, “Yes! But it was a prototype! It was stolen from us; it was never meant to be used! We’d never create something which caused such pain, and we worried it would…” She put her hands together in prayer, “Forgive us.” She prayed to God and Ruby, “Please forgive us.”

“What’s it for, if not to take someone’s autonomy away?”

Saffron tried to compose herself, “We began the project as a way to help customers get a sense of the Doll lifestyle, to see if it was right for them. It would inject 24 hours of a basic program, before deactivating and falling off. We were working on a model which would be painless to insert, but our only prototype was stolen months ago and since then we’ve feared the worst.”

Ruby leaned forward, sliding the device back to her side of the table. “A Doll demo? Am I supposed to believe that? You’re a dollhouse, a garage!”

“No one becomes a Doll who doesn’t want to! That’s not what any of us do!” Saffron stood and sighed, “Please come up to my office, I can prove it to you. I can see that you’re angry. May I see your scars?”

Ruby lifted her hair as Saffron confirmed her fears. “Forgive us, we should have guarded it better. Please, help yourself to something to eat, it always makes me feel better. Then we can show you that we’ve never overstepped any lines.”

Saffron reached for the device, but Ruby held onto it. “I’ll bring it to you when I’m ready.”

“Of course. Please excuse me, you may not understand this in Canada, but at times like this one must pray.”

“Religion is practiced openly in Canada.” Truth, although after K36 regions tended to either experience a widespread disillusionment of faith or, like Québec, a wild cementation of it. “I don’t judge.”

“Neither do we. It is a policy I feel is unjust, but one may not pick and choose which laws they obey.”

Ruby stifled a laugh, “Coming from a Catholic Doll that’s a load. Got any mixed fibres in those clothes? Was this thing stolen during the day, and that’s why you couldn’t kill the thief?” There was bile in her voice, “Québec certainly followed one rule though: Deuteronomy 17:2-7!”

Saffron suppressed her anger, “The bible is a collection of stories to help guide one, it is not a set of rules to be listed one after the other. As for your knowledge of Deuteronomy, upon learning of my parents’ part in that, I left home and never returned. Please excuse us.” She paused before leaving, “And no, I am not wearing both linen and wool, the mixed fabrics rule only pertains those two, and the Book of Leviticus is the lowest of low hanging fruit.” Saffron disappeared behind the wall and walked up the stairs.

Ruby held the communicator button down as she lifted her cup to her mouth, as the café Doll was right in front of her. “Progress report.” She would time each sip with her responses.

Nothing from Tess, but given she was with someone that wasn’t a surprise. Clockwork finally contacted the squad, “Clockwork’s status report: Main server nearly breached, however…”

Something from Tess, it was the voice of the mechanic Doll. “Come on, let me show you my workshop! Don’t worry, facing that fear of basements will be worth it.” Tess’ line cut off.

Harry radioed in; he was exerting himself. “Jamming it now!”

A few moments later, they heard Tess’ communicator. “It’s- stuck?” The mechanic Doll seemed confused. “Is it broken again?”

“Here, I’m sure you’ve got work. Let me put some good ol’ elbow grease into it! You Dolls fragile. Sometimes the locks just jam, I’ll get it open.” Tess was keeping her communication going. “Go on, and great tour, top rate. We’ll continue once I use some patented Toronto techniques into opening this pup.”

“Bless you.” The mechanic Doll said. “I do have some projects up here, please let us know if you need any assistance.”

Tess knelt by the door, as Harry descended back down the stairs. “Saved our arses there, but the countdown’s on. No matter. Everyone say: ‘Good job, Tess, you magnificent bitch’.”

Everyone did.

“Clockwork’s continued status report: Main server nearly breached, no sign of any devices resembling the one that resulted in Ruby getting railed by Mikea.”

Ruby took another sip, “Keep at it.” She was never going to live what happened at Xavier’s down. She hadn’t told a soul, while Mikea told everyone who would listen. “Stop searching for the devices, the only one that exists is the one I’ve got; it’s a prototype.”

Harry wondered, “Mikea told us that Xavier had bought it.”

“Xavier’s a fucking liar, I’m real shocked by this. Just, how could such a wonderful man lie like that.” The sarcasm of Ruby’s words practically dripped out of their earpieces. “They also only convert consenting people into Dolls and seem to think that’s how it happens. However, given how they specialize in Stepfordization, I’m betting a lot of the housewife Dolls out there were pressured into it.”

Tess asked, “Is that… a problem? I mean, we do far worse. Are we supposed to only convert the willing? Shitting ass, no one told me that.”

Ruby asked them all, “Do any of you care?” Silence. “See, that’s why we’re such a good team.”

“At least Xavier gave it to you at the end, probably makes for a hardcore souvenir.” Tess suggested.

Harry did wonder, “If Doll garages only convert the willing, and we do what we do… are we the baddies?”

“The only difference between us and this place, is that we’re honest when we use unwilling material. Meanwhile in this city, Tess got charged for blasphemy.”

“Only because God keeps fuckin’ me in the ass!” Tess complained. “Least he could do is give me a reach around now and again, but oh high and mighty has a plan, and that plan included the bit where a wee Tess watched her parents die while she lay skewered in the wreck of a car. Or the foster home where…” Tess released her communicator and threw herself back into her work, although while the lock was broken on the basement side, Tess knew enough about locksmithing to open it without too much trouble. Still, she committed to giving it her full 20%.

Ruby’s eye twitched. “Each of us has been fucked to hell, and in ’36 I got to watch as five billion people died. Starving children didn’t do it, but witnessing the decades leading up to K36 and then the fallout sure convinced a lot of people that religion was a coward’s game. Let’s rip everything off their drives and wreck the place, so they can walk barefoot in poverty like their saviour.”

Clockwork spoke honestly, “I can tell there is much trauma in your pasts. Tess, I myself watched my ‘mother’ die before my eyes. She had minutes to live after her AI shard was removed and stowed within myself. A man’s first sight, should not be what mine was.”

Ruby rubbed her temples, “Group therapy is over now. Although maybe we should have a hire an in-house therapist. Regardless, let’s fuck their shit up. I’m off to the head office, maybe there’s something useful there.”

Tess asked, “What was that team four shit about the office?”

“It was a test, Saffron said something that she couldn’t have known unless listening in on our communications. I had to test if our devices were compromised. Get back to work, I’m en route to the office.”

The office had a church like beauty to it, with one long stained-glass wall which showed a lone woman’s journey from distress and heartbreak to her eventual conversion into a blissful Doll standing in the middle of a joyous family. The light shining through it was striking. When Ruby entered, Saffron raised Ruby’s M1911 to her and Ruby slowed, but gently kicked the door closed behind her.

Saffron had been praying in front of a masterfully carved crucifix and had turned to meet her counterpart with tears in her eye. “We hate these.” She shook the pistol. “Not because we were taught to turn away from violence, but because firearms like this represent the Montréal millions spent decades freeing themselves from. The mob, the corruption, the ceaseless violence of every kind. It infested my home, and while I am too young to have experienced the worst of it, I saw this city transformed into a place of peace and piety.

“You may mock us for our faith; you say you respect it with a grin. But while we may not know much about your Toronto Servos, aside from the fact we should have recognized the name as one which creates slaves, we do know about Toronto. The violence from our shores was carried up the St. Lawrence to yours, it is why you carry such an ugly thing. We truly weep for you, for you know nothing else. You live in a wretched city choking on the poison of the seven sins.”

“Five. There are five sins.”

“Lust is still a sin, so is wrath.” Saffron kept the gun trained on Ruby.

“Does that dress have pockets? Do you have a bank note on you?”

Slowly walking to her desk, gun still raised, Saffron held up a 5000 mark note. “What does this matter?”

Ruby spoke calmly and made no effort to act just yet. “Across the top of each one, there’s five virtues in alphabetical order: Courage, Discipline, Intellect, Vigilance, and Vigour. I live my life by those words. What isn’t printed are the five sins, each one corresponding to a virtue. Cowardice, Decadence, Ignorance, Complacency, and Indolence. When I served, those who committed those sins met terrible ends.” Ruby took a small step forward but stopped when Saffron pulled back the hammer. “When I served, to make this world a better place, those virtues were what got me through the bleakest times. When locked in a Chinese cell, I scratched them into the wall with a special nail that replaced the one on my right toe.” Ruby sighed, “I know what it’s like to have faith. It’s just a different kind, and they can aid in violence as well as help end it, but what they have done is inspire me to be a better person. Faith of all kinds is vital to life.”

Saffron sighed, before letting the bill fall and holding the pistol with both hands. “Then why are you going to kill us all?! Enslave us, destroy us, turn us into sex slaves?! Why force us to do this?”

“Kill you?!”

“That door that Tess is pretending to work on, you have people down there, don’t you? Our server is there.”

“We’re here to steal your plans for the prototype that was used on me.”

“How long have they been there?” Saffron hated the silence, “ANSWER US!”

Clockwork radioed into Ruby’s ear. “Miss Eve, the server has been breached. We have full access to every file, and every Doll. They appear to be networked together, and this server is the focal point. They share one mind in a way and can pass information between them. I can upload a program to the server and turn them all under our control.”

Ruby listened and answered Saffron honestly, “Long enough.” Then, with that new information the last piece of a puzzle Ruby had been turning in her mind for months fell into place.

Saffron explained, “Then it is our choice. But even if we kill you, a woman who has killed so many and will likely do the same to us, or worse… The others with you will retaliate.” Saffron lowered Ruby’s pistol and fell to her knees; she even slid the weapon over to Ruby’s feet.

Clockwork radioed in again, “Ms. Eve. The mission parameters have changed, what do you want us to do? Waiting on your order.”

Ruby picked up her M1911 and walked a little closer to Saffron, who bowed her head in silent prayer. “A lot of the wives who come here, do you believe they’ve all done so willingly?”

After a long silence Saffron shook her head, “No. But it is the price we pay for maintaining this beautiful place, keeping Montréal from descending into the inferno which is Toronto.”

Clockwork asked again, “Your orders, Ms. Eve?”

Ruby used her communicator. “Standby for orders.”

She stood over Saffron and tried to explain, “I’m from a very long time ago. When corporations sanitized the world and kept us all under their eye. When K36 happened, I helped NATO re-establish the state, a real state, not compromised by Corpo money but one that embraced that the beating heart of all states is violence. Toronto went through some rough times, and came out a scarred, dangerous, and practically feral version of itself, but it was free. Weird, unsettling, and where you can let that freak flag of yours fly. You are free from violence and faith guides your steps; it has a certain appeal to it. But I choose to live in Toronto because in violence, freaks like me, messy fucked up moments, and unsanded edges there’s my kind of freedom. You never quite know what to expect when walking out your front door, and I love that.”

“Please don’t enslave us.” Saffron asked quietly, her hands still clasped in prayer. “Or at least kill me, for I’d rather die right now than live as a slave. Do it.” She looked Ruby dead in the eyes. “I beseech you, DO IT!”

Ruby’s fingers held down the communicator. “Abort mission. Repeat: Abort mission. Scatter and rendezvous at Alpha location in two hours. You have your orders. See you soon.”

Ruby flicked on the pistol’s safety. “Give us all our guns back, let us walk out of here like nothing happened, and you’ll never see us again.” She stowed the pistol in the back of her pants and reached out her hand to Saffron, “Here, let me help you to your feet. Even if your Doll legs probably don’t need…” Saffron took Ruby’s hand anyways and the two stood eye to eye.

“Your weapons are being returned as we speak, and your holster is on the desk chair.”

Ruby walked over to retrieve it. “Are you going to ask me why I didn’t do it. Or did God protect you?”

“We don’t know why, but does it matter?”

“In this case it does.” Ruby pulled out the device and tossed it to Saffron. “You showed me courage, a virtue, and I respect that. You’re not ignorant, as you crossed blades with me over theological morality. You’re disciplined. I don’t think vigour applies to Dolls, but I bet you’ve got a great body under all that modesty. The only sin you committed is complacency, you let the most important things like this device and your server be taken without so much as a fight, but you offered your life in exchange.”

“You still judge me by your morals, not mine.”

“Yeah, but then there’s that device. When I got here, I thought you were selling them, but when I learned it was the only prototype something didn’t feel right. The man that used it on me gave it to me at the end of the day, no strings attached, not even words. He used it to humiliate me, make me do things I’d never do, all while letting it slip where he got it.” Ruby folded her arms and leaned against Saffron’s desk. “I love making Dolls or making free Dolls into slaves. But what I hate is getting played. This man must have known I wouldn’t have let this place go unscathed for what you helped do to me. He’s probably been keeping an eye on Montréal news for something like this to happen.”

“Our stolen technology, and your suffering, were part of a game?”

“The more I think about it, the more it seems.” Ruby began walking out the door but paused and put her hand on Saffron’s shoulder. “I’m no one’s bitch, no matter what that thing did to me. You might be in for some shit, but it won’t be from me.” She kept walking, “But get some better security. Vigilance is a virtue, and complacency is death. For you today, it nearly was.”

“We will… Thank you.”

Ruby placed the device in Saffron’s palm. “Go make your Doll demo thing, it’s a fantastic idea.”

“We will guard this with our lives.”

Ruby nodded to her counterpart and quietly left the office, “There but for the grace of God go I.”

The squad scattered, but the Dollhouse didn’t alert the police and instead returned to its normal functioning, although Saffron immediately put in requests to meet with security auditors. The sun was still shining, the day was still brilliant, and the people were perfectly nice despite her still being in her Toronto Blue Jays regalia. Perhaps they took pity on her, the Jays won the brawl but the final score was what mattered and it was very much in the Expos favour. Ruby could hear faint chatter in her ear, as squad members came in and out of range of each other, but for the most part they were off enjoying Montréal. Eventually she took hers out and stowed it in a pocket.

Ruby for her part didn’t have far to go. Walking north, along Rue de Salaberry, she reached her destination. After eighty years, it was still there. Sitting herself on a bench across the road from 999 Rue de Salaberry, Ruby unwrapped a bundle of brown wax paper and enjoyed a smoked meat sandwich and a cigarette, while taking in the view of a simple looking building, with a humble extension to it. It had been upgraded over the years, and certainly some additions had been made, but it was clearly the same place, even without needing to read the sign. At the end of her meal, Ruby reached for her flask and toasted before pouring one out for the doctor who fixed her, before taking a swig. Ruby may have been born in 1983 in Toronto’s Mount Sinai Hospital, but in 2005 at 999 Rue de Salaberry, she was reborn.