Free Hamish X and the Hollow Mountain by Sean Cullen

scrape and a clunk.
    â€œWelcome to the Hollow Mountain,” Aidan said. He marched down the ramp to the platform. Parveen, Mimi, Mr. Kipling, and Mrs. Francis hesitated. Aidan saw their worried expressions. He stood at the bottom of the ramp and beckoned, a smile on his face. “No need to fear. You’re safe now under the protection of the King of Switzerland.” Cautiously, the Windcity refugees walked down the ramp into a strange new land.
    The locals gathered around them, their fresh, clean faces staring openly at these new arrivals. They whispered behind their hands to each other, discussing the strange new children from Windcity. 28 Oddly, when Mr. Kipling and Mrs. Francis emerged from the Orphan Queen the children shrank back from the adults, eyes wide with fear.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with them?” Mrs. Francis said. “They act as though they’ve never seen a grownup before.”
    â€œMost of them haven’t. No adults allowed in the Hollow Mountain,” Aidan explained.
    Mrs. Francis gaped. “What? No adults? Who takes care of them?”
    Cara squared her shoulders and answered. “We take care of ourselves.”
    Aidan addressed the waiting crowd. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I can assure everybody that Mr. Kipling and Mrs. Francis are friends to orphans of the world and companions of Hamish X.” The children seemed soothed by this news and began to creep closer again. “You see,”Aidan explained to Mrs. Francis, “they aren’t used to trusting grownups.”
    â€œPoor dears.” Mrs. Francis gazed around at the children with such open affection that one of them, a small girl in a green jumpsuit, crept forward and wrapped her arms around the chubby woman’s leg. Mrs. Francis stroked the top of the girl’s head and smiled. The dam broke and more children clustered around her, hungry for the affection of lost mommies and daddies, half remembered but always missed.
    Mimi and Parveen found themselves staring, but not at the children. Rather, they were staring at the creatures that gathered around the feet of the children. Standing up on hind legs, tiny forepaws tucked into their chests, was a pack of raccoons. They were of uniform size and identical colour, their glossy black eyes blinking in the black masks of their faces.
    Parveen pointed at the animals. “I’m sorry, but are those …”
    â€œRaccoons,” all the raccoons said in unison. It was hard to decide which was more disturbing: the fact that they were speaking or that they were speaking in a synchronized way. “We are not exactly raccoons. Our outward appearance is that of a raccoon. We are actually automatons, designed to be the conduit of the central artificial intelligence that is George. We are George. George welcomes you to the Hollow Mountain.”
    â€œWait a moment,” Parveen said. “You are robots?”
    â€œVery sophisticated robots, yes.” The raccoons spoke together. They all pursed their lips in a strangely human expression. “We prefer the term Automated Mammal, but robot is accurate.” Having made this distinction, they all waved a hand towards the metal cylinder. “The King is eager to meet you. Your escort is arriving.”

    An opening appeared in the cylinder. With a soft whoosh, two panels slid apart to reveal an elevator car. A pair of older children stood in the elevator. They wore black uniforms with the now-familiar silver cross on the right breast, a more formal version of Aidan’s and Cara’s bodysuits.
    A frail boy with tousled red hair and pale skin appeared between them, looking small and bent in contrast to the alert bearing of his attendants. Hunched over a pair of crutches, smiling, he eased himself out onto the platform.
    The effect on the crowd of children was immediate. They all bowed their heads. Aidan and Cara went down on one knee with a hand pressed over the crosses on