The Metal Witch of New England
The Metal Witch of New England by Erin Tyler "...Are you even alive in there?" Those were the first words The Mistress ever said to me, in the darkness of her junk-lab. I had been trapped in an immobile robotic body, with my 435-plus-year-old brain encased and kept alive in a cloudy plastic bubble. I had no choice but to respond with a slow nod. That had made her laugh. The Mistress' laugh was a curious one: it would start with something that didn't really sound like a laugh,...