Ant and Four 4 - Toymaker
by Winter

"Ant, I think I've got one again."

Ant had been watching a sun-yellow butterfly, following its wiggling flight from flower to flower, and it took the whispered words a second or two to sink in. When they finally did, he glanced down into the lake. One of the floats twitched a little, sending rings out across the still surface. Beside him, Four's breath hitched, and Ant could tell that he was fighting back a squeal.

"Careful," he whispered back. "Don't scare it off."

The twitch returned, and then suddenly the float disappeared into the water. Four's squeal escaped then, reverberating from across the lake while he yanked on his fishing pole. Up through the surface came a slim silvery shape, thrashing madly. As gently as he could, Four pulled up and back, until he could grab the fish. It seemed to calm down then and accept its fate, as he freed its mouth from the hook. Ant dutifully used his datapad to take a picture of the fish and the grinning boy, then Four lowered it to the water and let it go. A glimmer in the sunlight, and it was gone.

"That was Trevor again. I think he likes me." Four waved at the lake. "Bye, Trevor."

"It's a fish. How can you tell the difference?"

"Don't be rude. It's the way he looks at me, with those friendly little eyes. Not like Matilda, she tried to bite my finger."

"And now they've all got names."

"It's more polite than just calling them fish one, fish two, fish three, fish four, fish five and fish six." Four giggled. "Or in your case, fish none."

"You could call fish six, Fish Sticks." Ant ignored the jab. "The others could be Breaded, Grilled, Deep-Fried, Coal-Baked and Sashimi."

"Aaant!" Four groaned. "You're being way too rude. I'm not letting you eat any of my new friends. If you're hungry, why don't you catch something other than fleas?"

"You did not just say that." Ant put his own fishing pole down, and flexed his fingers as if itching to grab something. Or someone. "You. Did not. Just say that."

"Eep!"

Four jumped to his feet and took off running. During the month that had passed since he got his body, he had become a lot better at moving about. Including running. He was nowhere near as fast as Ant, though, even when he was wearing his slip-ons. Which now lay right next to his fishing pole, forgotten. Ant took his time getting up, because he had noticed something that his friend hadn't. Namely that Four was running towards the lake end of the pier. Slowly, Ant walked after him, and his wolf tail started wagging when he saw Four come to a halt, looking around but finding no outs. Then he turned around, spotted Ant, and shrieked.

"Do you wanna apologise?" Ant made his voice as deep as he could. "Or do you wanna go swimming with Trevor?"

"You wouldn't, would you?" Four squeaked. "I can't swim."

"You don't have to breathe, either. Just walk on the bottom."

"It'll be scary down there."

"So, what do you say?" Ant had stopped just in front of Four, looking down his muzzle at the smaller boy. "Think fast and think carefully."

"Sorry?" Four tilted his head, smiling. "Super-sorry? It was just a joke."

"It only happened once. And they weren't fleas, they were greenflies."

"It was funny, the way you were yelling."

"Funny?"

"Well, the farmer did tell us to stay away from the tomato plants. But you just couldn't."

"Thanks for reminding me..."

"We got rid of them, though." Four giggled. "With the hose."

"I think I might throw you in after all."

"You wouldn't." Four touched Ant's arm. "Would you?"

"I guess not." Ant sighed. "Come on, let's pick up our gear. Our time's up."

"Already?"

"Yup."

"And the fishes know that?"

"Didn't you read the rules back at the office?"

"I was busy watching all the fish pictures on the wall. What were the rules?"

"Goofball," Ant muttered while they picked up their fishing poles, and Four put on his shoes. "You pay for one hour, and when the time is up the fish stop biting."

"I wish we could have brought Trevor home with us."

"He could live in the freezer, right next to the tofu burgers and the green peas."

"Or in an aquarium." Four stuck his tongue out at Ant. "On a little table behind the sofa, so he can see the viewscreen."

"I don't think the fish are for sale."

"Can we ask? They have to replace them sometimes, don't they? So someone must be making new ones."

"I bet I could make one."

"Really?" Four grabbed Ant's shirt sleeve, and almost tripped when he tried to walk and bounce at the same time. "A Trevor?"

"A something like Trevor, at least. Like that hopping bug we made, but a fish."

"You made it, I just painted it."

"I don't really see the point of getting an aquarium for a robot fish, though."

"So he can swim, of course." Four leaned his head against Ant's shoulder while they walked towards the camping site's office. "You're being silly again."

* * * * * *

Ferry number four was parked at the far end of the site, alongside tents and caravans; the only flying vehicle to be seen anywhere. Remotely, Four activated one of the spotlights and blinked at them, then he happily waved back. Ant smiled, shook his head, and waved at the ferry. When they approached, the door opened and the ramp lowered. Four stepped to the side and bowed with a smile.

"Your chariot, sir."

"Thank you, my good man." Ant searched his pocket and found a coin, which he handed to his friend. "For your trouble."

Grinning happily, Four dashed up the ramp and vanished inside. As he followed at a more leisurely pace, Ant heard the clink of metal on metal, as the coin joined others in Four's money bowl. He had no idea what the ferry boy was saving up for, and Four wasn't telling. It didn't really matter. Collecting coins, and occasionally counting them, made Four happy. That was good enough for Ant.

"He went into the workshop," viewscreen Four said when Ant stepped through the door. "Looked like he was in a hurry."

"Thanks. Everything all right?"

"Peachy!" the animated boy beamed, but then he tilted his head and gave a slight pout. "I also helped with the door and the ramp."

"You're not fooling me, you know, no matter how much you pretend to be two different people."

Ant huffed, but he still fished up another coin and tossed it into the bowl on the occasional table, just inside the door. Two identical voices thanked him in perfect synch.

The smaller room, which had started out as a bedroom and had then been turned into storage, had over the last couple of weeks become something of a playroom for Ant. He had enjoyed helping with the electronics work needed to give Four a body, and when he found a tool kit for sale at a swap meet, the temptation proved irresistible. The first thing he built was little more than a battery connected via a number of buttons to a series of lights, which lit up in different orders depending on which buttons you pressed. Not very impressive, but he had still been ridiculously proud.

The mechanical insect had been the first thing he built that moved on its own. It only had four legs, but when he switched it on it hopped around the room, totally triggering his pounce reflexes. Ant had painted it green, but then Four had asked to try his hands with the brushes, and he had added so many details that Ant had promoted him to First Paintmaster. In response Four, blushing with the praise, had named Ant Toymaker Extraordinaire. Soon the main room of the ferry had been cluttered with electronic junk and paint supplies, to the point of becoming inhospitable.

It was then that Four, for the first time ever, mentioned his cargo hold to Ant. Just below the ramp was a near-invisible hatch, which led to a place where he had carried supplies during his ferry days. A couple of hours' work, including much grousing from Ant for not being told about it earlier, the side room was emptied out, cleaned, and turned into a workshop.

A workshop for toys.

* * * * * *

The shelves along the walls were filled with half-finished projects, abandoned projects, failed projects, and a couple of finished ones. There was a dragon which could walk on its own and flap its wings, but which Four didn't like because he claimed that he had painted one of the scales wrong. A race car that could reverse and turn around whenever it hit something, then revved its engine before driving on. A clockwork miniature wolf which wagged its tail and barked, and which Four had painted to look like Ant. And a few others.

A swimming fish would require double engines, Ant thought. One to move its tail to swim, and one for the pectoral fins to let it go up and down in the water. Plus some kind of sensor to make it turn in time and not get stuck in corners. He picked up an old portable cassette player, and began dissecting it.

By the time he got hungry, he had all the components laid out, and had constructed a small fish-shaped frame. This Trevor would have to be smaller than his lake counterpart, a herring rather than a bass. The tricky bit would be to balance it so that it could swim without flipping over. And, to make it do more than just go back and forth. He still felt a bit uneasy after his conversations with Magnus Larsen, the engineer who had helped him get Four a body, about machines and computers who got their memories wiped on a regular basis. Because of that, he tried to make his own machines more mechanical, and less electronic. So he used no computers at all, not even single microchips if he could avoid it, choosing instead to rely on relays.

When he went to raid the fridge, Ant saw to his delight that Four had made him sandwiches. Possibly hoping for another coin, but he seemed happy to settle for a wolf hug.

* * * * * *

Finding an aquarium the right size turned out to be the most difficult part. They were on a planet called Laya, whose settlements mostly consisted of small towns, and there weren't many places selling things like that. There were either tiny bowls for goldfish, or large showpieces that would barely have fit inside the ferry. But at last, in a small village thrift store, Ant found not only the right fish tank, but also a wall-mounted shelf to put it on, with room enough for the clockwork wolf.

Four was bouncing with giddiness when it was time for Trevor the mechanical fish to make his debut. The tank was a little over a metre long, half a metre wide and about three-quarters tall. They had filled it with water and laid in a bottom of fine white sand, a cut-out backdrop of a coral reef, and a treasure chest decoration in one corner. Ant felt a bit nervous. Trevor was the most sophisticated thing he had ever attempted to build from scratch, and even though he had double-checked every system, he wasn't sure how it would act in water. The skin was made from a thinner version of the same material that covered Four, and to Ant's eyes it looked perfect. Four had taken hours and hours to do the painting, tongue in cheek while his brushes brought scale after scale to life. They both leaned in closer as Ant touched the on button, then released the fish at the surface.

Trevor sank to the bottom, landing on the white sand with a soft thunk. He lay still for a little while, but then his tail fin wiggled, and he rose up in the water and started swimming. Four cheered, then kissed Ant on the nose. He pressed his face close to the glass, and gasped when Trevor turned towards him. The two stared at each other, then Four moved and Trevor followed.

"Can he really see me?" Four whispered as he and the fish moved to the short end of the tank. "How did you do that?"

"He can see you," Ant explained. "His eyes are cameras, and if something moves close by, he goes to check it out. Try dipping your finger in the water."

"He's not gonna do something scary, is he?"

"Not at all. Just try."

Hesitating a bit, Four still stood up, and Trevor returned to his more aimless swimming. With another glance at Ant for reassurance, Four reached out and touched the water with the tip of his index finger. Trevor turned around, and slowly rose up to meet him. Four giggled happily as the fish rubbed against his finger, and he petted it gently. When he pulled back, Tervor sank down and began examining the treasure chest. Four beamed, and Ant couldn't help but chuckle.

"Like him?"

"I love him. Thank you so much!" Four touched the water again, and the same thing happened. "He likes me."

"Of course he does. He's a friendly fish."

"Will you tell me how you did that? Or is it a trade secret?"

"No secret. A sensor in the dorsal fin. When he senses a vibration that isn't him, he checks it out."

"That is so cool. He really moves like a fish."

"And he looks like a fish. You're so good at painting."

"Thanks. I love doing it. We should totally start selling toys."

"Selling them?"

"Mhm. I know we've still got plenty of money, but we're gonna run out at some point." Four picked up the little wolf and cranked it up. It wagged its tail and barked, and Trevor came over to watch. "You can't just make toys for me, you're spoiling me enough as it is."

"I'm not sure..." Ant bit his lower lip. "Do you really think they're good enough?"

"Absolutely. But Trevor and Li'l Ant stay. They're not for sale. Neither is the dragon."

"Because of that scale." Four nodded. "But you painted it over. Fixed it."

"I still know it was ugly before. It wouldn't feel right."

"We probably should make some more first, to build up a supply." Ant touched Four's shoulder, and frowned. "What if nobody buys them, though?"

"Then we have a sale. Cut the prices. Give out free balloons." Four tilted his head and rubbed his cheek against Ant's hand. "Don't worry, you're gonna make a lot of kids happy."

"We are."

"We are," Four agreed, smiling. "Friend."

That evening Ant lay slumped against his favourite armrest, furry feet on the coffee table as he watched a movie on the viewscreen. Four, however, stood with his knees on his usual seat, arms leaning on the backrest. He was watching the fish tank. Every now and then his butt swayed, as if he were trying to wag a tail.

* * * * * *

Wishing Well was a medium-sized town, situated on the main land mass of Laya, just where a sweet water river fell into the ocean. The people there were mostly laid back and friendly, and Ant had gathered a bit of attention when he went to book a table at the monthly flea market. He was used to causing a stir with his appearance, but this time the ones who talked to him seemed more interested in his home made toys. This made him even more nervous, and when the first day of the market dawned, he was a wreck.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered while he filled up the hand cart the market organisers had lent him. Over the past two weeks, they had worked furiously to finish and test as many toys as they possibly could, and Ant knew they would be able to fill the cart again the next day if need be. "There's toy stores everywhere, why would anyone want to buy this crap?"

"Stop worrying." Four was busy filling balloons from a gas canister. He then painted them with a stylised A&F logo he had designed himself. "We're gonna be a smash hit. People will line up to see us."

"That makes me feel even worse. I hate crowds."

"Bring Li'l Ant and the dragon along. They can be showpieces, even though they're not for sale."

"Doesn't the dragon have a name?"

"Good question." Four tilted his head and tapped his cheek. "His name is Cyder."

"Like the drink?"

"Yup. But spelled with a y."

"Why y?"

"Because 'I' am busy painting balloons."

Four giggled, then booped Ant's nose and ran away. The ensuing chase and catch and wrestle almost made them late to claim their table.

* * * * * *

It was a slow start. During the morning, few people stopped at the A&F table, and those who did only took a brief glance before hurrying on. On their way to work, the book seller at the next table told Ant. The first day of market was still a work day for most people, and the best sells would come tomorrow. Still, he managed to sell the race car, and an elderly lady asked him to set aside a clockwork monkey who played a street organ. During the lulls, he couldn't help glance over at the books that were on display one table over, but he kept himself in check. They were there to sell, not to buy.

Things picked up after lunch. Ant barely had time to scarf down roasted potatoes in chili sauce, a dish from a diner across the street which set his whole mouth tingling. Suddenly, a dozen people were watching as he demonstrated his toys, with more joining them. Four busied himself handing out balloons to the children, while Ant talked shop with their parents. As soon as one person made a purchase, others followed until, half an hour later, Ant had sold half his inventory. Each toy went in its own cardboard box with Four's logo painted on the side, with a leaflet containing maintenance instructions and a small parts caution. Ant had even agreed to take on a couple of specialised commissions. This was more than he could ever have dreamed of, and his tail just wouldn't stop wagging. Much to the delight of the shoppers, especially the children.

Ant had only booked their table for morning and afternoon, so when it began to darken they had to pack up. The cart was much lighter now, and all the balloons were gone except for one, which Four had tied around the midriff of Li'l Ant, the clockwork wolf. Ant was just finishing cleaning up for the next seller, sweeping the sidewalk and picking up a couple of dropped coins, when Four came up to him, holding something.

"Look, our nice neighbour gave me a book."

"He did?"

"Yup. Said our toys brought in so much people it even boosted his sales. He let me pick a book for free."

"What did you get?" Four proudly held up his prize, and Ant's face fell when he read the title. "Commercial Fishing Through the Ages. Four, this isn't what you think it is."

"But..."

"Let's see if we can exchange it for something better."

"But I like fishes."

"Oh man..." Ant chewed his lower lip. "Remember when we went fishing?"

"Of course. I caught Trevor twice. Not our Trevor but the other one. It was just a couple of weeks ago."

"Fishing, well, real fishing, means doing that but with real living fish." Four's mouth fell open. "Yeah, exactly."

Luckily the book seller was a jovial man, who loved his trade more for the customers than for the business. He helped Four pick out a picture book on coral reefs and their inhabitants. Ant took a look at the price tag, and despite the man's silent protest, he discreetly dropped a handful of coins on the table.

Happy but tired, the two friends each grabbed a cart handle, and headed back to the ferry.

* * * * * *

Later that night, dead tired but unable to sleep, Ant sat on the lowered ramp. This close to the galactic core, the night sky was bright with stars and star clusters. So much so that Laya's tiny moons looked dark in comparison. The camping site was mostly quiet at this hour, but from the surrounding fields and woods came the hoots and chirps and calls of night creatures. No howling wolfs, though, he noted.

Ant knew that wolfs didn't really howl at moons, but he still thought that a night like this would have been perfect for singing. In the Mining Belt where he grew up, howling had been mostly a mourning thing, when everyone left behind gathered and sang for the ones who were gone. Part of him wanted to howl for his mother, but he had done it so many times over the years that he wasn't sure if his heart could take it. And, besides not wanting to wake up the campers, he didn't feel mournful. He felt happy.

Maybe for the first time in his life, Ant felt that he had done something worthwhile. Whatever he had been searching for during his drifting existence, toymaking could be it. The wide-eyed joy he had seen in the children who had watched his and Four's demonstrations, had touched him deeply. And the elation had stayed with him, chasing sleep away.

The night sounds and the crisp air began to lull Ant into a kind of half-slumber, and he found his mind wandering back through time. Being a wolf pup in the Belt really only meant one thing; you were going to become a miner. A short life of hard labour that usually ended in a bad death. He thought about his mother. A stoic wolf woman who gave him a roof over his head and food on the table, but never really shared her thoughts or feelings. Her self. Still, he had grieved her death. Unable to fully understand what it meant when a high-rad suit ruptured down in the mines, ten-year-old Ant had wanted to be let into her med-bay room, to comfort her and say that things would get better. Yet all he could do was stare through rad-proof glass while she slowly perished. For as long as her lungs held out, she had called for him, but radiation damage took both her sight and her hearing. Made her unable to see him or hear him as he yelled and yelled through the comm link, and pounded his fists raw on the metre-thick window.

A tear trickled down Ant's cheek, and he wiped it away with an annoyed flick of a finger. Why had he brought up that memory, when he had felt so happy just now? But it was as if his mind still wasn't done with the past.

Next he found himself in the dark tunnels underneath the mining town. Deep enough so he could easily avoid any search patrols, yet not so deep as to reach the dangerous ore. He had spent almost two standard years down there, alone but for the cave ants that had once given him his name. Where the time had gone, and how he had managed to survive, he didn't know. It had all become a blur of sipping rank-smelling water from tiny well-springs, or scraping lichen-like things off the walls when he couldn't find his way up into the light to steal food.

Then, all of a sudden, chaos. Raised voices, weapons fired, slavers crashing through his tunnels to flee from a mob of angry wolfs. Strong arms hauling Ant out of the way. A dark-skinned, furless face with a friendly smile. Tow, mechanic onboard the Morning Calm. The first human Ant had ever seen.

Travelling with the Calm had been a lot of fun, but also challenging. Ant had been torn between gratitude and resentment. He had been saved from his tunnel life, rescued from the slavers, but he also felt as if he had been wolf-napped. Ever so often, his ambivalence turned to anger. He clashed with Raeder, the self-styled captain of the Calm, and he often came to blows with the fiery weapons expert, Knife. She never missed a chance to rile him up, and even though he knew he would end up in a sore heap on the floor, he rarely failed to take the bait.

After many adventures, they had run into space pirates. Ant had been shot, and all of a sudden he found himself alone in a hospital bed. That hadn't been so bad though, because that was where he had found, and stolen, Four.

Thinking of his dear friend set his tail wagging, and Ant left the ramp just so he could see him. Four lay on the sofa, tucked in with a warm blanket, sleeping softly. Even before Ant had found a body for him, the ferry boy had managed to turn his downtimes into naptimes, perfecting a simulation of sleep. He even dreamt. Having not-memories, he called it when his electronic brain conjured up night visions. Ant touched the one purple lock in Four's golden mop, there to show that he was a proxy body and not a human child, and he couldn't hold back a happy smile. Finding Four was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

The two of them had travelled together for several months now, visiting planet after planet, town after town. It had been a lot of fun, even on the rare occasions when they had encountered hostile humans. People who did not take kindly to finding a wolf and a robot in their midst. Still, running away had also been kind of fun, or at least thrilling. But that had been a drifting life, as well. Ant could sense that his mind-ramble was getting to the point. Making toys, selling toys, hadn't felt like drifting. It had felt like making a difference, both in Ant's own life and in others'. He had made people happy.

Finally feeling ready for sleep, he pressed the button that pulled up the ramp, but he left the door open to let more fresh air in. He tossed off his shirt, and climbed in behind Four. The noise had half-roused the boy, but Ant touched his cheek and whispered into his ear that everything was fine, and he slipped back into sleep. Yawning widely, Ant lay his head down on the pillow, wrapped one arm around Four, and soon joined him.