Reunification

by Timothy L. Cerepaka

  Chapter Nine

  Although I was more certain than ever at this point that the Destroyer would pop out of the sand and slay us before we got within one inch of the valley's exit, the machine did not appear anywhere near us. Indeed, I almost fancied that it had simply vanished into the sand, never to return, although I knew that that was a silly thought for certain.

  Resita and I climbed up the sloping valley exit, which 'twas a difficult feat, for the hot sand burned my feet and was unstable to walk upon. Nor was this trek made any easier by the rocks that sprouted out of the sand here and there, sharp, jagged little things that reminded me more of knives than stone. I stepped on more than a few on our way up, which sent sharp pains through my feet, but I was in such a hurry to get out of that valley that I did not mind it too much.

  Eventually, Resita and I emerged from the valley into what appeared to be a vast, rocky wasteland for as far as the eye could see. And indeed, mine eye could see far, for my eyesight was clear and allowed me to see rock spires, boulders, and grottos and cave openings wherever I looked.

  Again, neither of us knew with any certainty where we should go, but Resita continued running to the east and I followed. I noticed that Resita was heading toward what appeared to be a cavernous hole in the ground, though I did not know for certain what lay in that hole. It was likely better than that Destroyer from before, but I did slow down when I saw where we were going, for I still did not know what lay hidden within there, perhaps waiting to kill us.

  Resita entered the hole first. I followed soon enough, for I did not hear him cry out in pain, which led me to assume that that place was indeed much safer than it appeared. At least, I thought that until a large, brown snake slithered out as soon as Resita entered, causing me to jump, but the snake merely slithered past me without a second look, as if it saw barefoot, stinky humans every day.

  Once the snake was gone, I then entered the hole, which was much smaller than it first appeared. The ceiling was low overhead, forcing me to squat and bend over, and the cave smelled like blood and dead animals, perhaps the remains of whatever that snake had been eating earlier.

  Nonetheless, I discovered that there was indeed room for both of us. A trail of Resita's feathers—which must have fallen off him in his attempt to escape the Destroyer—showed me that Resita sat near the back, forcing me to sit closer to the entrance, but 'twas fine by me, for it afforded me a goodly view of the outside so that if some beast or machine tried to sneak up on us, I would indeed see it.

  Panting, I rubbed the bottom of my feet, for they burned from the hot sand and hurt from the sharp rocks I had stepped on. I had drawn no blood, thank the Old Gods, but that did not mean that mine feet were in perfect condition.

  “That … was … close,” said Resita, shuddering as he drew his legs up to his chest. “If I hadn't gotten that lucky shot in, both of us would have died for sure. And hey, maybe we still will anyway, since I doubt it will be very hard for the Destroyer to track us down.”

  “You have much to explain, my birdie friend,” I said, wincing at the pain I felt in my feet. I nodded my head at the entrance to our cave. “Was that the Destroyer of legend I have heard so much about?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” said Resita. “We Xeeonians, though, don't think of it as a legend so much as a natural disaster.”

  “What be natural about a machine that looks exceedingly unnatural?” I asked. I glanced outside, but saw no sign of that mechanical monstrosity.

  “It's a metaphor,” said Resita. “See, the Destroyer—which was originally called 'Helper' by its creators and only got its current nickname later—was an attempt by Annulus Robotics, Inc. to create a brand new type of robot that could be used by militaries in both Xeeo and Dela to aid soldiers in war.”

  I frowned. “How so?”

  “Well, say some soldiers are penned underneath a crashed vehicle or were caught under the debris of a destroyed building,” Resita said. “The Destroyer was supposed to go in and get them out safely. It was given a brand new artificial intelligence chip called the Module that would make it smarter even than the J series of robots.”

  “If it is supposed to be so smart, then why did it try to kill us?” I asked. “Do we resemble enemy soldiers to it?”

  “And there is the problem,” said Resita with a sigh. “On its first day of testing about six years ago, something went wrong with the Destroyer's circuitry. It was supposed to be controlled via a remote, but it somehow broke free of its creators' control, killed the people who were testing it, and then ran into the Dead Lands, where it has lived for the past half decade killing anyone or anything that it comes across.”

  “What a peculiar story,” I said as I ceased rubbing mine feet, for they no longer hurt quite as much as before. “How come ye Xeeonites have done nothing to stop it?”

  “The Xeeonian government has tried to stop it several times over the years,” said Resita, who sounded offended by mine words. “It's just that Destroyer is, well, smarter than even most organic beings. They've worked with Annulus Robotics to figure out how to exploit its weaknesses, but every attempt to take it down has utterly failed. That's part of the reason why the government has made it illegal for anyone to enter the Dead Lands; they don't want the Destroyer to kill any innocents.”

  “What a savage creature,” I said. I looked out the hole again, but still saw no sign of it or any other threat to our safety. “You mean to say that it has been wandering out in the Dead Lands for six years, yet it has never broken down? I thought all machines broke down if no one took good care of them.”

  “That's another problem,” Resita said, nodding. “The Destroyer is technically a prototype of the final product, which means that it's made out of inferior materials, but the fact is that it has shown no sign at all of falling apart or breaking down. Now it might just be taking really good care of itself, but where it could possibly get the parts to repair itself, no one knows.”

  “How come ye did not mention this to me before?” I said, placing the bottom of my feet gently on the stone ground under us. “'Tis seems like important information to me.”

  “I didn't think we'd ever run into the Destroyer,” said Resita with a shrug. “That's why. Besides, the Destroyer usually stays away from Xeeon and other cities along the Dead Lands border, so it's not much of a threat even when you're not in HQ.”

  “Then why is the Destroyer considered such a terrible threat?” I asked. “Ye don't sound much happy about the fact that it leaves most cities alone.”

  “Note that I said 'usually,'” said Resita, putting strong emphasis on that word, like a wizard speaking an incantation. “Sometimes, it does attack people completely unprovoked. Nothing major. Usually it will sneak across the border and destroy some vehicles or buildings before the law enforcers arrive and drive it off. We don't know why it does that. My personal theory is that it's because it thinks of the Dead Lands as its territory and it doesn't want any of us intruding on it, but that's just my speculation.”

  “Are we, then, in the Dead Lands?” I asked. Sweat began to moisten my brow due to the heat from the outside.

  “Yes,” said Resita. “I thought you had figured that out already.”

  “But this makes no sense,” I said. I gestured outside. “I thought your headquarters were located underneath Xeeon. How, then, did we end up out here?”

  “As I said, Xeeon is located on the edge of the Dead Lands,” said Resita. He lifted his wrist, but then lowered it and sighed. “I forgot. I lost my wrist-mounted holographic projector back in the chaos of the initial explosion, so I can't show you what I'm talking about. But anyway, the Foundation's waste system opens up into the Dead Lands, which is how we got out here.”

  “I see,” I said, stroking mine chin. “How far are we from Xeeon? Do ye know?”

  “No, I don't,” said Resita, shaking his head. “I doubt we're that far away, as I don't think that that secret passageway was that long, but it's not like we can just stroll up t
o Xeeon's border, either. But again, I don't know.”

  “Doth ye have any way of knowing?” I asked. “Do ye have some kind of locator device, perhaps implanted under your skin, that could point us to the way back to civilization?”

  “Wish I did,” said Resita, looking down at his clawed feet. “But I don't. I'm not like most people on Xeeo. I don't have a whole lot of robotic implants or mechanical add-ons, so I usually have to make do with exterior devices.”

  “How curious,” I said. “I thought all Xeeonites had marred their natural bodies with your abominable technology. Indeed, I even thought it must have been the law of your world that mandated it.”

  “There aren't any laws that say you have to have robotic implants if you don't want any,” said Resita. He sounded as though that were the silliest thing anyone could say. “It's just that most people do because it makes life easier for them. I'm what you'd call an untouched, though that's the kindest term to describe someone like me.”

  “I take it that your kind are not very common among the Xeeonite general population?” I asked, shifting my legs so that they would not fall asleep from lack of movement on my part.

  “The untouched are a very tiny percentage of the planet's population,” said Resita. He began to trace a circle on the floor with one of his feathery fingers. “Especially among my people. Studies say that most Checrom have at least a dozen implants, though that's on the conservative side. My older brother, for example, replaced his old beak with a new metal one that he says is stronger, but I don't know.”

  “I find these implants and 'add-ons,' as ye call them, disgusting and unnatural,” I said with a shudder. “Back on Dela, we do not mess with our bodies like that. Most Delanians die with the body that they are born with. Even many wizards and witches do not alter their bodies for any purpose, save for a few.”

  Resita looked up at me, an annoyed look on his face. “Hey, just because I'm an untouched, doesn't mean I think implants and add-ons are useless or immoral or whatever you Delanians call it. I just happen to think I don't need any. That's all.”

  I bit my lower lip. Seemed that I had misunderstood his words. I had thought that Resita might be as against implants as I was; however, it was obvious that he was not. Though when I thought about it, I found no surprise, for Resita had shown no real animosity towards this common Xeeonite practice aside from his own personal preferences.

  Nonetheless, I did not apologize. I simply said, “Well, it sounds to me as if ye must face much pressure from your friends for your decision.”

  “I do,” Resita admitted. “Or did, anyway, before those lizard creatures killed off the other Foundation members. My older brother used to randomly subscribe me to magazines like Implants Weekly and Add-ons Monthly just to trick me into wanting to get some, but they've still never tempted me much.”

  “Why do ye not want them?” I asked. “After all, is it not a custom on Xeeo for all people to use mechanical implants on their bodies?”

  “I just don't want anyone messing with my body,” said Resita with a shudder. “You usually need to go to a trained mechanic or surgeon, depending on what it is you need done, to get the implants put in correctly. Then you have to do routine maintenace to make sure that they don't fall apart or break or glitch in some way. Basically, it's just too much work.”

  “It certainly sounds like it,” I said, nodding. I looked out the cavern entrance again, just to be certain that the Destroyer was nowhere nearby, and I was glad to see that he was not. “Well, what should our next course of action be, Resita? I ask ye because ye know the Dead Lands better than I.”

  “We should find out how far away we are from Xeeon, and what direction that city is in,” Resita said, gesturing toward the cave mouth. “Then we head in that direction until we reach the city.”

  I frowned. “And what do we do if the Destroyer attacks us?”

  Resita looked down at his feet. “Hope he doesn't.”

  I waited, thinking that perhaps this was a strange Xeeonite joke I did not understand, but Resita's expression remained serious and he did not amend his suggestion with a laugh. Did disturb me for a moment before I remembered that neither of us stood much of a chance against the Destroyer in the first place; therefore, Resita spoke only the truth, as grim as that truth was.

  “But first,” said Resita, as he leaned back against the cave wall and yawned, “we sleep. After everything we've been through, I am just about ready to fall down and call it a night. How do you feel?”

  I was about to say that I felt like I could stay up all day, but then a sudden drowsiness fell over me like a curtain, and I yawned. “Aye, I am also tired and sleepy. Perhaps I will take a nap as well.”

  “All right,” said Resita. He glanced out the cavern mouth. “I just hope that the Destroyer doesn't get us while we sleep.”

  “There is not much we can do about it, should that monster attempt to kill us while we rest,” I said. “Therefore, it would be best for us not to worry deeply about it, for worry is the killer of sleep.”

  “You're right,” said Resita, nodding. He put his feathered hands behind his head and closed his eyes and in a moment, was fast asleep, his chest heaving up and down with every snore from his beak.

  As for me, I lay down on my side as best as I could, for I did not think I could sleep sitting up. I folded my hands under my head as a pillow, and not a very comfortable one, either, but better than the hard ground or the rocks in the desert at any rate.

  Before I drifted off into dream land, however, I prayed to the Old Gods once more for protection while we slept. It seemed unlikely that the Old Gods heard any of my prayers, for they had no power in Xeeo, but I did it anyway, for prayer had been a regular part of my before bed routine ever since I was a little boy.

  Yet though I prayed for safety and protection, I kept mine energy knife near my hands, so that I could instantly grab it, if necessary.

  -

  I must have been far more tired than I thought, for when I awoke, the sun in the sky outside of the cave mouth had crossed much of the heavens, which meant it must have been the afternoon, though I knew not for certain whether that was so, for mine internal clock was still not quite adjusted to Xeeon Standard Time yet.

  But, praise be to the Old Gods, I was still alive. I saw no sign of the Destroyer anywhere, which made me relieved. I wondered if perhaps the Old Gods had indeed protected us … or if, perhaps, the Destroyer had simply decided that we were not worth killing.

  In any case, my legs felt cramped, for I had pulled them up to my chest while I slept to give Resita more room in which to rest. 'Twas not much of a problem, however, because I knew I would get the cramps out of them soon enough, once we both got up and started our journey back to Xeeon, wherever that city was.

  My stomach rumbled, causing me to grab it. I had forgotten that it had been at least a day—perhaps longer—since I had had a decent meal. The only thing I could remember having since arriving in Xeeo was that cup of that so-called 'genuine' South Delanian tea I had drunk at that cafe in Xeeon. The thought of that disgusting concoction made my stomach twist; nonetheless, the hunger within me was as real as the cramped-ness in my legs.

  And my mouth was as dry as the Dead Lands themselves. Thus, I needed water as well, but I did not know if there was any water or food around here. Of course, I did not need water purely to quench my thirst; my mouth burned with the stink of the waste from the Foundation's HQ, a stink that could only be cleaned out by the purest of water.

  Thinking of that stink made me aware of the awful smell my own body gave off. 'Twas not as strong as it had been before; however, I could still smell the rat excrement and slime from before. That gave me yet another reason to find water, though I wondered if there was pure enough water in Xeeo that could wash away this filth or if I would smell this awful for the rest of my life.

  But now 'twas not the time to be lying on the floor of this place, thinking about mine problems. Now was the time to rise, rise to
my feet I say, and set forth out into the Dead Lands and hopefully to civilization itself.

  Hence, I stretched my legs and yawned widely. 'Twould take me a minute or two to get all of the kinks out of my legs, but that was no matter, for I had plenty of time in which to do it.

  As I stretched my legs, I looked over at where Resita had been resting earlier. I intended to see if he was awake, but to my shock, I saw not one sign of my feathery friend anywhere. Well, that was not entirely true, for I did spot a few of his sludge-covered feathers on the ground, but aside from that, there was no other clue as to his whereabouts.

  Worried, I sat up without thinking about the cramps in my legs and looked around the tiny cave. 'Twas perhaps a useless gesture, for the cave was not very deep or large, but I searched for him anyway just to be certain.

  “Resita?” I said, though I did not raise mine voice very high. “Resita? Are ye there? Resita, where are ye?”

  No answer came from anywhere at that moment. There was a slight breeze blowing outside, but that only made me feel lonelier than ever. Clearly, then, Resita had gone missing, but whether he had been kidnapped or not, I could not say.

  My first instinct was to get up and begin searching the area for Resita. He was my only ally in this strange and hostile world, after all. I did not feel safe traveling the Dead Lands without his guidance, even though he himself was not a very strong or powerful fighter. After all, I knew even less about the Dead Lands than he. I had no idea how to navigate it or find out how far I was from Xeeon.

  But I did not get up right away. For I remembered, in my training as a Knight of Se-Dela, a lesson that Sir Lockfried had taught me when I first joined the Order a year past. It was a lesson I had not thought on in a while, but remember it I did, for it now seemed relevant to my current situation.

  Sir Lockfried had taught me once what I had to do when I found myself alone in the middle of the wilderness like this and my only ally had gone missing. He had said that I should first examine what clues or evidence that had been left behind before I acted rashly, for if I did not, then I was in danger of running into more danger than I was able to deal with. 'Twas not bad advice, though not advice I had ever thought would be relevant to any situation I found myself in.

  So I crawled across the floor toward Resita's feathers, even though they were as awful-smelling and hideous as a dead skunk. Though that matter little to me; after all, I did not smell much better and my clothes—which had since dried out after being out of that waste dump for so many hours—stuck to mine skin in a way that was exceedingly uncomfortable, though I tried to ignore it for now.

  Then I noticed a trail of Resita's feathers that led from the spot where he had been resting out toward the cavern's exit. Then, a little outside the cave, I saw the trail of feathers turn to the right and vanish from my view.

  Odd. It appeared as though Resita had simply walked away, for I did not see any signs of a struggle. Perhaps there was nothing nefarious about this situation; perhaps Resita had simply gone out to relieve himself, or perhaps he was searching for any sign of the Destroyer or trying to determine how far we were from Xeeon.

  Yet why would he leave a trail of feathers behind him like that, if indeed nothing nefarious had happened to him? There was something about this situation that left me deeply unsettled, for I knew that Resita would have told me if he was going anywhere. After all, the Dead Lands were too dangerous for someone to go wandering about on their own without telling their own ally of where they went.

  Therefore, I had to assume that Resita must have been captured by something, though by what, I did not know. Nor did I know why this thing had apparently left me alone; maybe it was some creature that liked to prey on Checrom and had no taste for humans.

  I thought it queer how I had not heard Resita's struggle against whatever had taken him. This cave was small, and it seemed unlikely to me that Resita had gone without a fight. He may have been a scrawny chick, incapable of doing much harm to anyone, but I could tell he had a fighting spirit that would not allow anything, even a terrible monster from the Dead Lands, to take him out without a lot of pecking and scratching.

  Whatever had taken my friend, then, must have gotten him while he slept. Or somehow made him walk out of the place silently. In any event, Resita was undoubtedly in trouble, which made it my job to rescue him.

  I did a quick search of the cave for his laser gun, but I did not find it anywhere. That meant that Resita likely still had it on his being, though I doubted he could use it against whatever had taken him. Otherwise, I likely would have heard it been used by now, for most Xeeonite weapons were not very silent.

  So, after making sure that my energy knife still worked, I crawled toward the cavern entrance. I followed the trail of feathers that Resita had clearly left behind, though I did not follow it quickly, for I did not want to be ambushed by any creatures that might have been waiting for me outside.

  As it transpired, however, my caution was unfounded, for when I crawled out of the cave and stood up to my full height, I did not see any living being for as far as mine eye could see. I saw rock and sand, jagged cuts in the earth that were most likely caves like mine, rock pillars here and there, and much else besides, but no life.

  I now understood why the Xeeonites referred to this part of their world as the Dead Lands. For it truly was a land of death; there was not even a scrub of vegetation to be seen anywhere. That worried me, for if there truly was no life here, then that meant there was no water, which meant my parched throat would only get drier and drier as time went on.

  And the heat! Oh, by the Old Gods' thirty names, the heat! It had not seemed quite so hot earlier, when Resita and I had escaped the Destroyer, but now, the heat was nigh unbearable. It was oppressive, beating down on me as a butcher prepares his meat. The heat seemed to make my stink worse, for now I could smell it as freshly as ever, and it made me gag, which with my dried mouth was a horrible sensation.

  My feet burned when they stepped out of the shade, forcing me to return them to the coolness of the shade quickly. I still had no shoes I could wear to help me cross the burning land; however, I could not simply stand here, either, for Resita needed my help, in addition to the heat of the sun being too hot for me to ignore.

  Hence, I would simply have to bear it, like a true Knight of Se-Dela. That would not be very fun, perhaps, but when I considered that mine only two options were essentially to stand here and die or search for Resita and possibly live, I decided that the second option made more sense.

  Besides, it wasn't as if I would be wandering around the Dead Lands with no sense of direction. The trail of Resita's feathers would guide me, for I could now see that it went all the way toward some nearby hills. It appeared to go beyond those hills, though to where I did not know; therefore, I decided to go check.

  So I gathered my courage and resolve and walked out on the hot earth and in the burning sun. 'Twas difficult, for without any water to drink, my parched mouth became even harder to ignore than before, and of course, mine feet kept burning on the hot ground.

  Nonetheless, I did not yield to my pain. I followed the trail of feathers without trouble, though I had to avoid the rocks on the ground, for they were still sharp enough to cut me if I was not careful. That slowed mine progress somewhat, but not significantly, for I did not know how much time I had left in which to save Resita.

  As I had observed before, the feather trail led to a group of hills several dozen feet from my cave. I did not recall seeing those hills yesterday; however, that was likely due to the fact that we had been in a hurry to escape the Destroyer, and therefore had had almost no time in which to observe our surroundings in detail.

  These hills did not look like Delanian hills to I, however. They rose like the humps of omas, with sharp, tall rocks rising out of them. 'Twas an odd sight, for the hills appeared to have been tall rocks covered with dirt, though whether that was the case or not, I could not tell.

  Aside from Resita's slu
dge-covered, stinky feathers, I saw no sign of anything that might have lurked in those hills. I did not hear anything, either, though when I thought about it, I realized that I did not hear any sounds in the Dead Lands, period, aside from the sounds of my footsteps against the sand and my own breathing.

  And it was not a good silence, either, but a dead one, like the kind of silence ye find in a graveyard. 'Twould have made me shudder under normal circumstances, and indeed, I did feel a slight shiver run up mine spine, but I tried not to focus too deeply on it, for I did not want to allow my nerves to overwhelm my critical thinking skills.

  Besides, slowing down would mean that my feet would have to rest on the hot sand a little while longer. That thought alone propelled me forward quickly, or as quickly as I could without stepping on any of the sharp rocks poking out of the ground, anyway.

  Nonetheless, I drew my energy knife, putting my thumb on the tab, ready to use it as soon as any hostile creature showed itself. Though if it turned out that the Destroyer was behind this—as unlikely as it seemed, for this did not seem like something that it would do—then it mattered very little what I did or did not have on me.

  Still, my knife brought me safety and comfort. Not the same kind of safety as my Knight's sword, but safety and comfort nonetheless.

  Soon, I reached the hills, which were as bunched together as items packed tightly in a shipping crate. Or so it felt, for there was not much room for me to navigate among them, and due to their height, I could not see as much as I would have liked, which left me open for an attack from whatever lurked within these hills.

  Yet I did not think I would get attacked, even though I was in the perfect position to be assaulted without anyone else knowing. The hills were silent, devoid of the sounds of any creatures, but more than that, Resita's trail of feathers did not show any signs of a struggle having caused them, which made me suspicious of my previous theory that Resita had been taken away against his will.

  But that was silly. Why would Resita willingly leave me alone? Whilst the two of us were not the best or closest or loyalest of friends, out here in the Dead Lands, we needed each other. We could not afford to go our separate ways, for if our chances of survival out here together were slim, then we were guaranteed to die if we separated.

  'Twas a puzzling mystery, to be sure, one that left me more troubled than anything. Had Resita left me to die? It seemed a cruel thing to do, if indeed he had done it, but who ever said that the members of the Foundation were kind or loyal? Perhaps they were all secretly backstabbing traitors who abandoned their friends when the going got tough.

  I wiped the sweat off my brow as I stepped over a rock in my path, mine eyes still fixated on the feathers before me. The heat must have been getting to me; why else would I be thinking such negative, unfounded thoughts about Resita? After all, they were nothing more than the basest speculation. There was likely a better reason for Resita's disappearance, some other explanation that would make sense of these strange happenings. I merely had to find out what it was.

  The trail of feathers took me deeper and deeper into the hills of the Dead Lands, hills I had not even known existed until ten minutes ago. I had seen images of the Dead Lands before, heard descriptions of it, but none of the images I had seen nor descriptions I had heard of it had ever even hinted at the existence of these hills, causing me to wonder why that was. Perhaps there was still much about the Dead Lands that even the Xeeonites did not know.

  It was hard to think deeply about this, however, because the heat continued to beat upon me heavily. My throat was as dry as the desert and my feet burned against the sand. How I wished for nothing more than a simple pair of shoes; not anything expensive or fancy. Just something I could wear to give comfort to my poor feet. And a cup of ice cold water as well, which was far more important than a pair of shoes, for certain.

  Mine thoughts were interrupted when I heard a sound that I had not heard before. Before I even registered what this sound was, I stopped, for I was too amazed by the mere fact that I heard something other than mine own footsteps and breath to think much about what I heard. But I got over that quickly enough and listened closely so that I would better understand what it was.

  The sound that played among the hills now was like a song, but not just any song. Nay, it was a low, mournful tune, played with what I could only assume were electric instruments, for I did not recognize the sounds from anywhere else. It reminded me of the music I had heard in the city parade earlier; whereas that had been loud and joyous, this was as sad as if someone of great importance had just died recently.

  Indeed, 'twas so sad that I began to feel depressed as well, though I quickly dismissed the feelings as nothing more than distractions, for I still did not know for certain what was making that song or if it was in some way connected to Resita's disappearance.

  From what I could tell, the song came from the hills to my right, which also happened to be the direction that Resita's feathers went in. But I did not hear Resita anywhere; all I heard was the mournful 'music,' if indeed ye could call that electric noise such.

  I slowly advanced in that direction, thumbing the tab on my energy knife, ready to attack whatever was playing that music. I had no way of knowing for certain if the player of that music was a villain or not; however, considering this was the Dead Lands, I doubted the musician, whoever it was, was in any way kindly.

  Then I peeked out from around one of the mounds and saw a scene I had not expected to see out here in this vast wasteland of death.

  Resita sat cross-legged on the ground, his feathery hands on his knees, his back to me, listening to a strange-looking machine I had never seen before in my life. It was shaped like a box, square and squat, but it also had a couple of appendages arising from it, appendages that resembled speakers, from which the music seemed to be sounding.

  Mine first thought was that this was some kind of robot, but that made no sense to me. For one, it resembled no robot I had ever heard of or seen, though perhaps that said little, for I was indeed not an expert in robots. Sir Alart would know, as he was much more interested in robots than I was, but Sir Alart was currently back on Dela, too far away from here for me to ask him even one question about this odd machine before me.

  Perhaps it was an automaton. I had heard of such creatures, which were said to be somewhere between humans and the highest of artificial intelligences, such as the J series robots. Sir Alart had once told me about how many robots were in fact automatons, essentially very simple robots that were not quite as smart as many of the more advanced kind. Could that be what this thing was?

  I did not know for certain. Whatever this thing was, I did not understand what it was doing out here or why Resita was apparently entranced by it. The way he looked at the machine reminded me of the way that men looked when put under the sway of enchantresses; indeed, I had a feeling that I could run up behind Resita and scream loud enough to be heard from Xeeon, and I would not disturb him from his trance even slightly.

  I did not see what was so hypnotizing about this music. 'Twas like garbage in my ears, this 'music' was, and I was overcome with a righteous desire to smash that machine into pieces. Perhaps there was a less violent way of dealing with the music produced by that machine, but in this blasted landscape, I would take no chances, especially if this machine turned out to be a villain of some sort.

  While its mournful, electronic noise blared from its speakers, I pressed the tab on the energy knife, causing the blade to flare to life. I did not know anything about this machine or how it worked; however, I did not need to know how it was put together in order to destroy it.

  So I stepped out from behind the mound and, without waiting for even one moment, dashed at the machine, raising my energy knife as I did so. Resita did not appear to hear me coming, for he did not turn to look at me, but that was fine by me, for he would know soon enough what I was about to do.

  The closer I got to the strange machine, the louder its music blared, but I
did not stop or slow down. As soon as I was upon it, I slashed my knife at its speakers, its hot energy cutting through the appendages as easily as if they were made out of butter.

  And how did they fly! And with what colorful sparks! The speakers flew off over my head, while the sparks from the sliced appendages shot out gold and yellow and red. One of the appendages shocked me in the arm, causing me to jump back, but 'twas only for a moment. The appendage fell to the sand, still sparking, but that was not the end of the spectacle.

  For as soon as my knife had cut through the appendages, the music ceased playing abruptly, like a raven swallowed by a lion. But it was replaced, not by silence, but by loud sparking and hissing noises from within the strange machine. It sounded as if there was some overly large beast trapped within the machine trying to claw its way toward freedom, which made me retreat backwards in fear.

  As I did so, I heard Resita groaning behind me and I looked over mine shoulder. Resita was shaking his head, rubbing his hands against his forehead, perhaps finally free of whatever terrible spell that that machine had cast upon him. That did fill my heart with joy and gladness, but that joy and gladness was interrupted by the sudden abrupt sounds still spluttering from the machine.

  I still had no idea what was about to happen, but even I could tell that I must have done far more damage to the machine than I thought, for it was now vibrating as violently as if the Old Gods had caused a massive tremor to shake all of Xeeo. Something told me something deadly was about to occur and that I needed to get not only mine self, but also Resita, out of this place before it was too late.

  So I turned and ran, grabbing Resita as I passed him. He smelled like sewage and waste left out in the sun, but he managed to get to his feet fast enough when I grabbed him and pulled him along. He still seemed confused, however, which made me wonder just what that thing had done to Resita to leave him like this.

  But I spared no time wondering about that. I simply ran around the mound, dragging Resita along behind me, and as soon as we were behind it, a massive boom—like a thunderstorm on a dark stormy night—rattled my jaw and stung my ears.

  The explosion 'twas so powerful that I fell down onto my hands and knees, pulling Resita with me. I covered my head, as did Resita, for I feared that the explosion would send all manner of debris flying our way, including mechanical parts that could impale our bodies.

  And indeed, something black and smoking and metallic flew over the mound and landed on the ground directly in front of mine face. Though it was a small thing, not much bigger than my energy knife, it radiated enough heat to make me back up enough to avoid burning my face, though I dared not back up too much, for I could still hear the sounds of the exploding machine and I feared moving around might put me in the path of its flying parts.

  But my fears turned out to be unnecessary, for in a short time the machine ceased exploding and no more bits and pieces of its fell from the sky. Keeping my hands over my head, however, I looked up carefully, just to be certain that we were all right, but it did turn out to be an unnecessary precaution, for the sky was as clear and warm as ever.

  Hence, I took mine hands off my head and looked over my shoulder to ensure that Resita was all right. Though he had not yet removed his hands from his head, he did not look injured or hurt in any way. And for that, I was thankful, for I had worried that he might get injured by the machine's flying debris.

  Nonetheless, I had to be certain, so I asked, “Resita, how do ye feel? Are ye all right?”

  My throat and mouth were still quite dry, so my voice did not sound quite as strong as it normally did. Still, I managed to speak as clearly as I could given the circumstances, though whether he could even hear me at all 'twas doubtful, for that explosion had been loud and might have taken out his hearing for all I knew.

  But then Resita looked up at me and nodded. “Yeah, Apakerec, I'm fine. It's just that my head hurts, like someone had taken a club and smacked it against my skull.”

  “Praise be to the Old Gods that we both made it out of that situation alive,” I said with a sigh. I wiped the sweat off my brow and sat up, dusting off my chest as I did so. “That was indeed a dangerous situation we found ourselves in back there. I had not expected the machine to explode so violently, however.”

  Resita, too, was sitting up, a confused look on his bird-like features. I noticed now that he was missing far more feathers than he normally was, which made him look skinnier and weaker than ever. He appeared much like the abused chickens I had once seen back in my hometown when I was a child, which made me feel even sorrier for him than I normally did.

  “But tell me,” I said, turning so that I was facing him squarely. “Just what was that thing? Why did it play music? And how come ye were entranced by it? Is this some form of witchcraft that I must be aware of?”

  Resita simply shook his head, however, as if I had just said the dumbest thing in the universe. “No. This wasn't witchcraft, but science.”

  “Science?” I repeated. “That still does not explain what that was, however. It bares no resemblance to any 'science' that I know of.”

  “No surprise there,” said Resita, dusting off his body, for the sand had gotten all over his feathers when I had pulled him to the ground. “That kind of machine isn't exactly well-known among most Xeeonites, either, or at least anymore. Only reason I recognized it is because my father used to have one, so I got to know all about it because he'd always ramble on about it to me when he would—when I was a kid.”

  I caught Resita's stumble, even though he appeared to think that I had not, if the way he looked at me was any clue. Nonetheless, I chose not to pursue the point any further, because I was not interested in what he meant to say. 'Twas too hot and tired to care about something that was not directly related to our dire situation.

  “Then tell me,” I said, feeling somewhat annoyed as I gestured at the mound, though I was really gesturing at the spot on the other side where the machine had been, “what that machine was.”

  “An old '94-B Player,” said Resita. He frowned. “Oh, right. I forgot. You don't know much about Xeeonite music machines, do you?”

  “I recall having seen some such machines when I came to Xeeon to see mine sister,” I said. “And I have heard stories about them from my fellow Knights who have visited your world. But on Dela, we do not have any need of such atrocious machines, for we have musicians of all stripes who play our music for us when we need to.”

  “Right,” said Resita. “Well, this particular machine is an older model. The '94-B was quite popular in its day. It was the most popular music machine in all of Xeeo for the longest time until Annulus Robotics came out with the Mechanical Musician model late last year, but it's still popular among the older crowd like my father.”

  “I see,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder at the smoking bit of metal that had fallen in front of my face. “Then what was this machine doing all the way out here? And how did it hypnotize ye? Did these ''94-B Players,' as ye call them, have the effect of hypnotizing whoever listened to them?”

  “No,” said Resita, shaking his head. “At least, I don't think so. My father says they have the best sound quality ever, but that doesn't mean they can actually hypnotize you. Not without special equipment, anyway.”

  “Then explain your story to me,” I said, putting my hands in my lap. “When I awoke this morning, I discovered that ye were missing from our cave. I followed this trail of feathers—” and here I gestured at the feathers left behind by Resita, “—all the way up to here, but I do not know what happened before all of that.”

  Resita stretched his arms, though he looked a little ashamed, as if he was embarrassed by his actions. “I … well, I got up before you because I wanted to scout the area quickly to find out where we were in relation to Xeeon. I planned to come back and wake you up as soon as I figured out where we were, but then I heard that music.”

  “The music played by the machine,” I said. “The mournful electronic.” />
  “That,” said Resita. He shuddered. “It was just the most hypnotic tone I had ever heard in my life. It reminded me of my childhood for some reason, so I went and followed the noise until I found it here.”

  “Then it hypnotized ye,” I said. “Correct?”

  “Right,” said Resita. “I don't know what happened. One minute, I was following the sound, and the next, I was sitting in front of it and it was exploding and you were pulling me away from it.”

  “How come I did not hear it until I got close?” I asked. “Furthermore, why was I not hypnotized like ye? Am I mentally stronger than ye?”

  “I think it's because the music was designed to hypnotize Checrom like myself,” said Resita, pointing at himself. “The tone, the way the music shifted and moved, all of it pointed toward a song that had been designed specifically to hypnotize my people. I'm surprised you could hear it at all. I thought for sure only I could hear it.”

  “What a strange device,” I remarked. “But that does not explain what this machine was doing out here, nor why it was playing such music in the first place.”

  Resita rubbed his forehead, causing a few more feathers to fall off onto the sand under him. “Well, I have heard rumors that sometimes people drop off their old unwanted or broken devices out here in the Dead Lands. It's technically illegal—you're supposed to either recycle you broken or unwanted things or put it in with the rest of your trash—but it's a common enough occurrence that I wouldn't be surprised if that was where that '94-B Player came from.”

  “I find that highly convenient,” I said, scratching my chin. “Though even if that is true, I do not understand why that machine exploded when I cut off its speakers.”

  “Well, that's because, as good as those old machines might have been in their day, it was discovered sometime after production that quite a few of the units were defective and prone to exploding if damaged,” said Resita. “Most likely, whoever used to own that '94-B Player had tossed it out here when he found out that it was defective. Probably didn't want it exploding in his face.”

  “That is plausible enough, I suppose,” I said as I rose to my feet, dusting off my clothes as I did so, “but this still fills my soul with dread and unease. I had thought that the only dangerous machine we would run into out here would be the Destroyer, yet ye say that there are more unwanted or broken machines here.”

  “Most likely,” said Resita, nodding. “But don't worry. As long as we're careful—more careful than we already are—we should be fine.”

  “I hope so,” I said. “Anyway, did ye find anything during your scouting of the area? Food and water, perhaps? Or maybe a good pair of shoes?”

  Much to my disappointment, Resita shook his head. He then stood up, though as he did so, even more feathers fell from his body. I felt sorry about his appearance, for he now looked as ugly as a newborn chick, but I did not see anything I could do about it.

  “No,” said Resita with a sigh, dusting dirt off the front of his clothes. “I didn't find much of anything thanks to that music machine. I still have no idea how far we are from Xeeon.”

  “Damn it,” I said, slamming mine fist against the mound. “I was hoping that something good might come out of this, but it appears that my hopes were dashed against the rocks.”

  “It's not an issue,” said Resita. “We can still find our way back to Xeeon. We just need to be smart.”

  “Smart?” I said. “How so? We do not have a map of the Dead Lands, nor do we have any of that tracking tech that ye Xeeonites are so fond of using to find your way around. Do ye suggest we simply wander in circles until we find civilization?”

  “Nope,” said Resita. He looked around the mounds around us. “We need to find out which way is north. Xeeon is supposed to be north of the Dead Lands and the Foundation HQ; therefore, if we can find out which way is north, then we can also find out which way to go.”

  “'Tis that simple?” I said, putting my hands on my waist. “Why did ye not mention this to me before?”

  “Because between the stress of everything that's happened within the last day or so, I really haven't been thinking as clearly as I normally do,” Resita replied. “That's why.”

  “Well, then finding north ought to be easy,” I said. I pointed up at the hot sun in the sky. “We need but only follow the trail of the sun. If the sun is heading west, then it will be easy to find which way north is. After all, the sun sets in the west.”

  “The sun doesn't set in the west,” said Resita. He pointed to the right. “The sun sets in the east.”

  “What a peculiar statement,” I said. “But a wrong one. The sun does indeed set in the west. I should know, for I have spent many days of my life watching the sun set in that direction.”

  “Wait,” said Resita. “Do you mean that the sun sets west in Dela? Because that might be true there. Here, though, I know for a fact that the sun sets in the east.”

  “Yet another irregularity betwixt our worlds,” I said, brushing my hair off my forehead. “How confusing this all gets sometimes. It makes me wonder how those who frequently travel betwixt our worlds ever keep anything straight.”

  “Who said that they did?” said Resita. “But anyway, your idea is still sound, even if the direction is wrong. It should be simple to find out what direction that the sun is going to—”

  He ceased speaking so abruptly that at first I was certain that I must not have heard the rest of his sentence. Perhaps my ears had temporarily failed me or maybe I was not listening as closely as I ought to have; either way, 'twas my fault.

  But something told me that I had not misheard anything he said. He looked as though he were listening to something, but what, I did not know. And I was afraid to ask, because I had a feeling that whatever he heard was not good.

  “Do you hear that?” Resita asked, his voice so low I had to strain to hear him.

  “Hear what?” I asked. I kept my own voice low, as something in his voice made me want to match his tone, though I don't think I spoke as low as he.

  “Just listen,” said Resita. “You might not be able to hear it right away, because … there it is.”

  And indeed, as soon as he said that, I heard it. It sounded like a couple of large men were walking nearby, though I could not see them no matter which direction I looked in. Their footsteps sounded close; based on what I could hear, it sounded as though they were making their way through the mounds around us.

  Whether they were friends or foes I did not know. Nonetheless, I redoubled my grip on my energy knife and listened closely to their every movement. One of them had heavy footsteps, as if he was obese, while the other's was light and quick, like a fox.

  “Oh, goddammit,” said a voice on the other side of the mound, sounding so close that I almost jumped. “Look, Lauz, this must be what caused that explosion we heard.”

  “Aw,” said another voice, this one dim and gruff, like a brute, and which must have belonged to this 'Lauz,' whoever he was. “And it was a '94-B Player, from what I can tell. My grandpa always used to play his whenever I was a kid. Good music machine.”

  “Who cares if it was a good music machine or not?” said the other voice irritably. “The real question is, why did it explode? I don't see any bombs around here.”

  “I heard those old machines were kind of defective,” said Lauz. “Like, they were prone to blowing up randomly. My grandpa's machine blew up in his face once, but he got better and then went out and bought a new one after that. And that one blew up in his face, too, but—”

  “Lauz, did I say that I wanted to hear more about your stupid grandpa?” said the other voice in a tone as sharp as a knife. “No, of course I didn't. The boss told us to go out here and find out caused that explosion that tripped our security systems, just in case there's someone out here who might be a threat to our operations.”

  I exchanged puzzled looks with Resita, but neither of us spoke. We simply listened more closely to these mysterious speakers, whoever, they were,
because we had no way of knowing if they were good or kind. I did not trust the sounds of their voices, but I knew better than to attack when we still knew so little about these men. That neither of us were in any real condition to fight was another reason to keep silent.

  “Well, I don't see nothing that could be a problem,” said Lauz, who I judged as being not very bright based on the tone of his voice. “Maybe one of those sand snakes accidentally blew it up. My grandpa always said that the government dumped a bunch of genetically-modified sand snakes out here after the Portal War ended, so maybe one of those caused it.”

  “Your grandpa was a conspiracy theorist,” the other voice snapped. “Anyway, I don't like this one bit. Even out here, machines don't just randomly explode for no reason. I think someone is out here; actually, I know someone is out here, and not just one person, but two someones.”

  I tensed. So did Resita, though again neither of us made any sounds. I hoped that the other man was merely boasting to his friend, but for all I knew he could be telling the truth. If he was, then I expected a fight.

  “Really?” said Lauz, who sounded a little skeptical. “How do you know that?”

  “See those footprints in the sand?” said the other voice. Though I could not see him and did not know what Lauz's friend looked like, I nonetheless imagined a shadowy figure gesturing at our footprints in the sand. “Granted, most of them were blown away by the explosion, but there are still a few that are clearly visible.”

  “Hey, you're right, Arn,” said Lauz. He now sounded as impressed as a child shown a simple magic trick. “And look, there are some claw marks, too. Do you think that means there's a gigantic chicken walking around here, Arn? 'Cause those look like chicken claws to me.”

  As soon as Lauz ceased speaking, the sound of something heavy hitting into something thick broke through the air. It almost made me jump, while Resita just made a chirping sound in surprise before he caught himself. We waited to see if either of those two had heard him.

  Then Arn said, “Gigantic chicken, Lauz? Really? Let me guess, did your grandpa tell you that there are giant chickens walking around the Dead Lands?”

  “Well, my grandpa did say, uh, that the government was—”

  Another whacking sound and Arn snapped, “Shut up, Lauz. Those are clearly not the marks of a giant chicken. Nah, those are Checrom marks.”

  “Aren't Checrom basically chicken people, Arn?” said Lauz, who did not sound quite as enthusiastic as before, perhaps because he had been hit twice already. “So what's the difference?”

  “God, Lauz, how do you even dress yourself every day?” said Arn. “Anyway, what this proves is that there is a human and a Checrom running around here. I bet they blew up this '94-B, too.”

  “Why would they do that?” asked Lauz. “I don't get it.”

  “That's what we're going to try to figure out, idiot,” said Arn. “But you know, I think it's probably that Delanian human, uh, what did the boss say his name was? Rii Whatever?”

  “Uh, I think he said Rii Apakerec,” said Lauz. “Or something. I dunno. I've never been really good with Delanian names.”

  'Twas my name that Lauz just mentioned! Technically, of course, he used my human name—Rii—and my non-human name, Apakerec. Still, I used both names, but I did not know either of these two. How, then, did they know mine name?

  “And that Checrom from the Foundation,” Arn continued. “I think the spy said his name was Resita or something? Anyway, their bodies were never recovered from the wreckage of HQ. And look, those human footprints don't even have shoes. I was told that that Rii guy didn't have any shoes, which can't be a coincidence.”

  Resita's beady eyes had grown to almost twice their size, and his thin frame visibly trembled. There was no mystery there. Based on what this Arn fellow said, it was quite clear that these two were associated with those lizard monsters that attacked the Foundation's HQ.

  Which meant one thing was clear: If they found us, they would likely finish the job that their allies had started. And that was something I would never allow, for we had not survived this long simply to die at the hands of two common crooks, based on their manners of speech.

  “But how did they get out of HQ and all the way out here?” said Lauz. “The Hunters had all of the exits and entrances blocked off. No way they could have escaped without us knowing.”

  “Doesn't matter how,” said Arn. “What matters is that they survived. And the boss said that no one was supposed to survive that assault, especially that Rii guy.”

  Though they did not say so, I knew that their boss must be Xacron-Ah. After all, his Assassin had already tried to kill me once; 'twould not surprise me if it turned out that he had attacked the Foundation HQ for the sole purpose of killing me. He probably did not want me to find mine sister, which meant that I would have to work harder than ever to save her from him, if he was as dangerous as his 'Hunters,' if that was the proper name of those foul beasts from before.

  “So how do we find 'em?” said Lauz. “'Cause I don't see them anywhere. They might be far away now, maybe.”

  “I doubt they got far,” said Arn. “That explosion happened what, five minutes ago, maybe less? They couldn't have gotten far in that time. Shouldn't take us long to find them, even without our sensors.”

  I gestured for Resita to follow me. Whilst I did not know exactly how strong Arn and Lauz were, I did not want to fight them, for I was still too tired and thirsty and hungry to do much. Though when I looked down at the trail of feathers that Resita had left earlier, I wondered if running was even an option for us, for it would not be difficult, methought, for those two evildoers to follow us that way.

  “But you know what?” said Arn. “My favorite screen show is on tonight and I frankly don't want to spend hours looking for a human and an oversized bird. Do your heat sensors work, Lauz?”

  “Yes,” said Lauz, who sounded quite proud of himself. “I clean them every day.”

  “Then use 'em to find those damn idiots, who are probably hiding in the mounds like rat,” said Arn. “Then the fun can begin.”

  Before Resita or I could run, a strange humming sound emitted from the other side of the mound. 'Twas a queer noise, for it was high-pitched, but not like the humming of a singing bird; rather, it was strangely metallic and screechy. It was unlike anything I had ever heard, though that did not surprise me terribly, for many of Xeeo's sounds and noises were foreign to me.

  Then, without warning, the sound cut off. Resita and I stood there, as still as the wind in the Dead Lands, waiting for whatever was going to happen, to happen. My ears still rang from the humming noise, but I had enough sense in my head left to turn to walk away from this mound.

  But as soon as I did, Arn shouted triumphantly from behind the mound, “There they are! Get 'em!”

  Then something sharp and small, like the sting of a bee, stung my neck. I reached for it immediately, feeling something metal and spiky, but 'twas no use, for my eyelids became heavier than Castle Una and I was soon lost in the darkness of unconsciousness before I even realized what had happened.

  ***