Code Lightfall and the Robot King

by Daniel H. Wilson

  As they sank, Peep flashed green lights through the helmet visor and into the murky water. Each burst of light illuminated some new wonder: thick, chain-linked seaweed, a startled metallic puffer fish, and a glowing electric eel. Soon, however, the water grew darker.

  Fear crept into Code’s belly as he was swallowed deeper into the watery chasm. Peep climbed onto Code’s collar and pressed her cool metal face against his cheek. Peering out of the visor, she shivered and glowed a sad blue.

  The water faded to black. As the pressure increased, the exoskeleton began to make tortured groaning noises. Code could sense the thousands of tons of water compressing the exoskeleton, about to crush it and flood it. His breathing came out heavy and loud inside the helmet.

  Suddenly, the incredible pressure splintered his battle visor and a spiderweb of ominous cracks raced across his vision. Code squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the helmet to shatter and for frigid water and razor-sharp glass to come flooding in.

  It didn’t happen.

  “Peep,” whispered Code. “Any ideas?”

  Peep fired a thin beam of light at one of the glowing buttons. The external helmet visor lights snapped on. Outside, Code saw tiny flecks of metal twisting in the black ocean currents. As the helmet lights shimmered against the swirling motes, Code recalled the first time he met Gary—in the sunlight-filled fabrication room. He remembered how Gary had loomed there in the shaft of light, and wondered now how Gary’s low chuckle could have ever seemed frightening. He hoped that his friend was okay on the water strider—and not too upset.

  Red warning lights blinked silently, cautioning that the suit integrity would be compromised at any second. The inside of the helmet was now completely fogged with Code’s breathing. A cold finger of water slipped into one of Code’s boots, but the suit automatically sealed the breach. Peep chirped sadly and fluttered her wings against Code’s cheeks.

  “Sorry, Peep,” whispered Code.

  Code squeezed his eyes shut and waited for impending doom. And then, with a jarring thud, he stopped sinking.

  Code lay still for a moment, incredulous. Looking around, he stood up unsteadily. He was on some kind of spongy ground. It didn’t feel the way he imagined the ocean floor would feel. But who knew—this was Mekhos, where weird was normal and normal didn’t exist.

  The external helmet lights illuminated an odd gray surface covered by thick slabs of metal riveted together and connected by enormous links of chain. To one side, he saw a majestic crest painted on an armored plate. It was embedded with a series of blinking lights.

  And at his feet, Code spotted a gigantic eyeball.

  Abruptly, he realized that he was standing on the nose of a whale.

  The armor-plated monster was floating with its tail pointed straight down, balancing Code on its nose and peering up at him. A thick crestplate of armor protected the whale’s forehead, studded with gleaming lights that began to blink in a complicated pattern. Afraid to move, Code stared at the colorful light show, vivid in the dark waters.

  He jumped, startled, when a deep, slow voice came from the speakers inside Code’s helmet: “Attention. Stand down. You are in violation of this wake space. Attention …”

  The coded light pattern from the armor lights must have been intercepted and translated by the communications computer of his exoskeleton.

  “Hello? Are you going to eat me?” Code breathed.

  The crestplate burst into a beautiful flurry of light pulses. “It can’t be! A human?”

  Code waved one gauntleted hand at the huge eyeball. “Hi,” he said. “Please don’t eat me.”

  “Pardon our surprise. We have not seen a human since we came from Earth, millennia ago.”

  “Wait, you’ve been to Earth?” asked Code.

  “Long ago, we were whale. We knew the warm waters of Earth, but men attacked us with wooden spears. We dove, swimming deep into a strange current that passed over a drowned city. The waters led to a tear in the ocean. The deep rift, a passageway to here—the Fomorian Sea.”

  “You’re a whale?” asked Code.

  “No. Organic creatures cannot survive these waters. When we arrived, a tiny creature waited near the rift, a deep symbiot. It courted us, and we agreed to join together. This small thing grew with us, around us, and inside us. Over time, it became our armor, our voice, and our survival. We are not whale; we have become a part of Mekhos. We are Lodestar.”

  Code whispered the name, trying it out. He decided it was very fitting for a gigantic armored sea creature. “Nice to meet you, Lodestar. I’m Code. Thank you for stopping my fall.”

  “You are welcome. But you are still in danger. Even something as small as you is highly visible to our sonar. Ours and Others’.”

  “Who do you mean … Others?”

  “Just outside the deep rift, clouds of nanobiters feed on the trash that flows in from the other world. We cannot leave, but others can come in. The rift has been open for long ages. Monsters from ancient Earth came in long ago and joined with their own symbiots. They drift above us in the warm waters, old and powerful.”

  “Dinosaurs …,” whispered Code, suddenly afraid of what could be lurking just out of sight. Peep stalked around the rim of the helmet. She glowed a wary reddish purple color and flexed her wings at the darkness outside.

  “We must return you to the deep rift so you can cross back to your world, where it is safe. Prepare, human,” it said.

  “You mean, home?”

  “If that is how you think of it, yes.”

  Code thought about going home. A return to all the old familiar sights and sounds. Somewhere out there, Mr. Mefford was watching the class. Tyler was terrorizing the other kids. Hazel was probably— Code stopped. Hazel was out there, too. She was shy and pretty and maybe, just maybe, wondering where he was. At home, Code could go back to hiding in his room and reading books, return to his imagination. Wasn’t it safest to do nothing at all? He would be protected and warm and … alone. Instantly, Code’s thoughts returned to Gary.

  “Gary must be so worried,” said Code, talking to Peep. She still trundled about the helmet, sending occasional pulses of light through the visor and out to the whale.

  “Organics do not belong here,” replied Lodestar. “If you do not return now, know that you will become a part of Mekhos. It will creep into your body until it is a part of your bones and flesh and brain. You will become one of us. And then you may never leave. The rifts are designed to reject mechanicals, to keep the great and dangerous experiment of Mekhos from spreading to Earth.”

  “But I’ve got to save my grandfather. He’s John Lightfall, the king. Immortalis has trapped him and is using him to destroy Mekhos.”

  “Yes,” flashed Lodestar. “I am sorry, Code. But King John Lightfall has been here much too long. He is no longer human. You cannot save him. The machine, Immortalis, was designed to keep him alive. It has done its job too well.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Code. “I can still save him; I can still bring him home.”

  “If you stop the Great Disassembly and defeat Immortalis, your grandfather will die. He cannot survive without Immortalis. Only by leaving now can you save your grandfather.”

  Code was stunned. He could hardly comprehend this devastating news. He felt a surge of anger. Every risk he had taken, every sacrifice he had made—it was all for nothing! This stupid mechanical world had seeped into his grandfather’s bones and stolen him away. Why didn’t I choose to do nothing?

  Peep chirped sadly, her sorrowful bluish glow reflecting from the inside of the helmet. At that moment, Code knew it was true—his grandfather was lost forever.

  But what about the rest of Mekhos? Without Code’s help, Gary would perish in the Disassembly along with all the other robots. In his entire life, Code had never met anyone more loyal, more trusting, or more friendly than the huge slaughterbot.

  Even though he knew Gary would beg him to go home, Code could not. He didn’t care that he couldn’
t win, or whether it was all for nothing. I may not be able to save my grandfather, thought Code, but I will not let down my best friend!

  The problem was how to explain this to Lodestar, an impossibly huge robotic whale.

  “I’m sorry, Lodestar,” said Code delicately. “But I can’t go home. You may not believe it, but Mekhos needs me. Will you take me to the surface?”

  “Impossible. The Other beasts swim the upper waters. Before, you sank too fast for them to notice. But rising takes longer. They will find you and chew your bones. Even in your little seashell you are but a mouthful of food to them.”

  Code mustered his courage. “You have an allegiance to humankind. My ancestors built this world. I’m commanding you. Take me to the surface right now … or leave me here.”

  Lodestar was silent for a long moment. Then, with a swoop of its great tail, the gargantuan beast pushed away into the deep. Dislodged from the whale’s snout, Code tumbled wildly and began to sink once again into the blackness, abandoned.

  “No!” pleaded Code as the massive form disappeared. He had gambled and lost. Darkness swallowed Code.

  Then, silently, the dark waters below lit up with a soft luminescence. The glowing crestplate of the whale reappeared and pressed roughly into Code’s feet. With a few thrusts of its tail, Lodestar accelerated to ramming speed. The plates of its deep armor shone with thousands of beautiful, hypnotic shifting lights. The lights danced off the surface of Code’s white exoskeleton as Lodestar heaved upward through the empty blackness.

  “Hold on to my armor!” thundered Lodestar. “And don’t let go, no matter what happens!”

  Code looped one sturdy arm of his exoskeleton through a link of chain and primed the electrocannons on the other arm. Lodestar churned the waters in tremendous strokes and they began a terrifying elevator ride straight up. Soon the water temperature rose—along with the danger of attack. Defensive patterns of light glittered and sparkled around him as Code clung to the great glowing crestplate.

  Code thanked goodness that the unknown designers of the exoskeleton had created a machine that could withstand the pressure of the deep ocean and a ride on an armored whale. He only hoped that the engineering would stand up to whatever horrors waited in the warm waters above.

  Just then, a mossy shape darted in to snatch Code from Lodestar’s back. Code flinched away from a long mouth filled with a chaotic explosion of steel teeth. Lodestar began a slow roll to spin Code away from the danger; pulses of electricity burst from Code’s arm cannons into the water, shocking the monster’s toughened snout and sending the thing fleeing into the darkness.

  Just as Code breathed a sigh of relief, Peep twittered in fear. A small, snarling metallic head flashed past his face and clamped its mouthful of jagged teeth onto his cannon arm. The vicious head was attached to a long neck that trailed away into darkness. Code struggled, but was helpless with his cannon arm trapped.

  “Lodestar!” shouted Code. Another even bigger shadow loomed out of the darkness. It was Lodestar, smashing its mighty tail into the unseen body of the attacker. Surprised, the creature released Code’s arm from its grip, leaving behind dented metal and broken shards of teeth. In the visor, Peep hopped up and down and shot victorious golden lights out into the blue black waters.

  But their relief faded when, only seconds later, the long, chain-linked tentacles of a squidlike robot suddenly engulfed Code’s entire body. Code fought valiantly to push the mechanical tentacles away, but there were far too many. Then he realized the tentacles weren’t attacking.

  “A quick snack!” boomed Lodestar, swallowing chunks of metal. “Calamari! Yum!”

  Finally, light wavered through the water above. As they surfaced, Lodestar shot a triumphant spray of air from its blowhole. Code stood on the flat slab of back armor, battered but alive. Outside, the Fomorian Sea swelled and dropped. Code opened the back casing of the broken exoskeleton and slid out, cupping Peep in one hand. The smashed-up power suit fell over, splashed into the ocean, and sank. Dark shapes converged on it, deep below.

  Standing on unsteady legs, Code gratefully inhaled the clean, salty air. Peep perched lightly on Code’s shoulder. The setting sun glinted from her insectile wings and the sea breeze blew Code’s sweaty hair over his forehead. They were safe at last.

  In the distance, the hazy shape of the water strider appeared. It skimmed toward them, sliding forward with great swipes of its paddle legs. As it approached, crewbots threw rope ladders over the side. Code took hold of a rung and patted Lodestar on its crest. “Thank you, Lodestar.”

  The creature solemnly flapped its wide tail on the water, then submerged. The shifting lights of its deep armor wavered beneath the rippling waves, then faded back into the hidden depths.

  From the deck of the water strider up above, Code heard a familiar grinding voice. “Little buddy!” shouted Gary. “Look at you, you’re small again!”

  14

  Water Strider

  The Great Disassembly:

  T–Minus Fifteen Hours

  The water strider cut smoothly through the Fomorian Sea on its journey to the Beamstalk. From the narrow top deck Code watched the paddle legs scissor back and forth, pulling the craft across the surface of the ocean. He shuddered to think of all the creatures lurking below the surface.

  Up ahead, he saw the Beamstalk, now closer than ever. There’s no turning back now, he thought. Either I make it to the top or all is lost.

  It was incredible that John Lightfall had lived with the robots for years, mused Code, ruling their world and leading them into battle against terrifying creatures. And now his grandfather was helpless, under the control of Immortalis. Only the Robonomicon could free him.

  Code could picture the mystical book in his mind’s eye, each heavy page describing some new and wondrous robot. He had to find it and read it—figure out exactly how this world worked. Then he could stop the Disassembly.

  Gary was laughing deliriously and chasing Peep around the deck with thunderous steps. In fact, Code had barely survived being reunited with the slaughterbot. Gary had been so excited to see Code that his internal batteries had overheated and his armor turned white-hot. A simple handshake almost turned fatal. The crew of the ship had to place Gary in a corner by himself until he cooled down.

  And it was all they could do to calm Gary down. Code soon learned that the slaughterbot had spent the last several hours convincing the captain of the ship to circle the spot where Code’s exoskeleton had disappeared into the water. In a panic, Gary had even threatened the crew with his finger cannons. As a result, the ship had spent the whole day combing back and forth while Gary leaned over the railing and desperately scanned the surface for Code and Peep.

  A small crewbot wearing a bright white sailor suit wheeled onto the deck of the ship, its hat cocked jauntily to the side. It chewed on a piece of rubber loudly as it greeted Code: “Howdy, passenger! Welcome to the HMS Affectacious. As you may know, we’re hauling all of Mekhos’s greatest artistic treasures to Disassembly Point so that we can take them apart, piece by piece. Kablooey!”

  The crewbot chuckled, then continued. “Given our mission, we are now holding mandatory art appreciation in our main gallery belowdecks. We are gonna have so much fun. Come along, everyone, and get ready to appreciate some fine art. Fine? I’ll say!”

  Balancing on two wheels and waving its snaky arms, the crewbot shoved everyone along. Code and Gary reluctantly shuffled belowdecks with the rest of the passengers from Clockwork City. At the bottom of a grand staircase the view opened up onto a room the size and shape of a football field. Every square inch of wall space was taken up by art: classical paintings, ancient hieroglyphs, and mind-bending holograms, as well as sculptures, mobiles, and carvings, plus a healthy smattering of light displays, kinetic stucco, and levitating boulders.

  While peering at a gleaming bronze ax, Code suddenly wondered how long the rift between Earth and Mekhos had been open. A very long time, he imagined.

 
; “Wow,” said Code, craning his neck to discover that the ceiling was also plastered with art. Gary wandered away, in awe at some of the larger sculptures of the Shatter-Gun Brigades. Code was left alone, squinting into the distance, trying to focus on the beautiful objects.

  Just then, the crewbot in the sailor’s uniform popped out in front of Code. “Howdy!” it shouted. Code let out a strangled yell. The crewbot punched Code lightly in the arm.

  “Didn’t mean to startle you there, comrade. But I can’t help but notice that you haven’t got any sensory augmentation. Can that be true? Are you seeing the world through a set of organic eyes?”

  Rubbing his arm, Code said, “Yeah, I guess so.”

  The crewbot shrieked in pretend fright, which caused Code to flinch again.

  “That’s just no good at all. May I recommend you get yourself a robo-retinal implant? We’ve got a whole big box of ’em right here, by the entrance. Haven’t used them in years. Just grab a couple and hold them up to your squishy little eyes—and they’ll do all the work.”

  The crewbot grabbed a box and held it up. Code grimaced. The box was full of candy-colored robotic eyeballs, all blinking at different times and looking in different directions. They looked shiny and wet and gross. Code had never really seen anything quite so disgusting, but the crewbot kept shaking the box at him. Gingerly, Code reached into the box and pulled out two glossy green eyeballs. He frowned at them, and they blinked sleepily at each other. The crewbot looked at Code expectantly.

  “I don’t know about this,” said Code. “I have some questions. Are they safe? Is it going to hurt? Are there any side effects? Will they make me look funny?”

  “No! No! No! Yes!” the crewbot answered. “But it doesn’t matter anyway, buckaroo. You’ve got to have robo-vision to appreciate our fine art. And, as I stated previously, art appreciation is man-ding-dang-dand-atory!”