Chapter 38. The Land of Smokes
There are vast areas on Gorn that are not fit for human occupation, they are known as the Forbidden Lands, they are given that name because they must not be traveled by the Nomads. The most foreboding of these is known as the Land of Smokes for it is said that strange unholy creatures live there that are neither human nor animal.And the air itself is a demon with a hunger that cannot be satisfied.
From the Mindlock of Oshismarie Inastro Sistashion.
The great machine that housed the Orb, had been traveling South East at a speed that could not be matched by any creature that walked the land.
It traveled by day and night, it stopped only to replenish itself with Eul and water. Any Outcast or wandering Sandjar ran from its path, it continued on its journey unchallenged. Soon it left the green expanse of the Sirolian plains and entered the lands of the South. This was a place that did not blossom in the Green Time, it remained a landscape of sparse vegetation, empty of most life.
If any Terra-former of the Outer Rim, had been able to survey the area, they would have found that it had once, been ravaged by radiation and chemical pollution, like the Poisoned-lands to the North. This was not an unknown event, many Outer-Worlds, had undergone much the same, when they were attacked by enemy planets or internal warfare. Time would someday return life to this desolate land but that was still far in the future, for now it would remain a forbidden place.
Forbidden or not, it did not matter to the Shadowman, he followed no laws of the Gods or Outlanders. His new body was now his temple, his mind a universe that obeyed him.
I will destroy all my enemies; he thought with all the precision and cold compassion of a machine; then I will make all creatures of this world my slaves.
The great Orb that the Shadowman stood next to, did not speak, its mind was now inseparably linked to that of the Human. It found that the emotions running so clearly through its intercordicial components, made it feel....content.
Contentment? It was a strange new sensation for the organic mind, it had been programmed to destroy and kill its enemies. It did this with cold efficiency not for vengeance. During the long cycles as it circled the great star, it had come to know certain inter-thoughts that might be construed as feelings. For all its enormous thinking power, it was unable to understand that it was now sharing its mind with that of the human.
The Shadowman, did not know that his new power of mind, was not a gift from a grateful God, but a malfunction in the mind-linking interaction of the Orb. Now both of them thought the same thoughts, both of them felt the same feelings, and both of them were filled with an unwavering appetite to kill!
There was one thing that their combined minds could not understand, that was the image of something far in the past that haunted their ordered calculations. The image of a female, holding a small creature in her arms, a being that held no purpose, yet the woman seemed so concerned for it.
What was that thing? Their minds asked; why should the female care?
“Proceeding on a heading calculated from the last known reference point”, the Task-robot said.
“Understood”, the Shadowman and the Orb replied as one, “continue on set course towards our objective, report any anomalies”.
For some time now, the Task-robot had been confused by the multiple orders, coming from the repaired humanoid and the Orb. After some re-calibration, it was able to follow their commands without having to ask for clarification.
“At once”, it said and went to interact with the navigation console.
We will find the Nomads and I will have my revenge; these were the thoughts of the human and machine, together they felt the very same pleasure, in knowing that soon that pledge would be fulfilled.
The great machine traveled eastward into the Land of Smokes, this place was named so because of the fire and noxious clouds that emanated from deep fissures in the earth. All about, were pools of multicolored liquid that would burn the flesh, it produced a mist that would bring death in an instant if inhaled. Even in this foreboding place, there was still life, strange unholy creatures, moved about on misshapen legs or hung in the poison air like death flyers. How they managed to survive such a hostile environment was unknown, for no Nomad, Shadowman or Thundra beast, would dare venture into such a deadly land. What information there was, came from old legends and camp stories, used to frighten children. It was enough to know that nothing made by Isarie, could cross this earth and live.
The Iron God was created by the Trajions, they knew nothing of Isarie or any of the Outlander's Omnipotent beings. So the Orb and the Shadowman, did not turn away from the devastated landscape, they proceeded on a heading that would take them to the objective.
“Outside temperature is rising, at a rate of two nine six” the Task-robot reported.
“Understood”, replied the Shadowman, for now it was only his voice that was heard in the chamber. The Orb still pulsed with life and emitted a glowing light that changed with its mood, it no longer cared to repeat a command that its Mind-link had already given. “Continue on heading and disregard outside readings”.
So following its orders the Task-robot interfaced with the Navigation Consul and the great machine continued on course.
Outside, things were not as they seemed, the Land of Smokes could defend itself against intruders. The rumbling of the huge steel monster, sent out shock waves that began to open new cracks in the earth, out of these breaks came more acid mist. Being a thing of metal, it had no immunity to the corrosive actions now starting to take effect.
It was very slow at first, hardly more than a slight discoloration of some minor plating. As the machine moved further and further into the forbidden land, the mist grew more intense. Soon it was a heavy vapor that floated like a blanket of death. Still the Task-robot followed its orders, disregarded the damage that was being done, it continued on its heading, now moving East.
Inside all seemed well, the Shadowman amused himself, removing then replacing his left arm. It was a childish thing to do, like a first cycle boy, he was fascinated with how things worked. Being able to take an arm off, then put it back on, brought great amusement to him. When he grew tired of the game, he would command one of the Talsonar robot men, to come and stand before him. He would then, slowly tear off sections of their metal bodies, until they were unable to function. All the while he would laugh, imagining he was doing the same thing to a living Nomad.
I cannot be defeated; he thought as he tore out the heart of a metal man; I am Atos now, I will destroy all who stand before me!
The huge machine moved deeper and deeper into the airborne trap, slowly more of its outer hull was affected, this continued until the acid smoke penetrated a critical section of the Orbs Command Circuits.
“Termination of Section, Twenty-One, inter hull breach”, the Task-robot reported.
The Shadowman did not understand, “how can this be?” he shouted out, “what enemy is strong enough, to penetrate shielding and hull plating?”
He moved to the Command Console, he plugged his interfacing digit into the circuitry, to begin scanning for an enemy to destroy. This was not an attacker of flesh and blood, this was a death phantom of the air.
“Termination of Section Twenty-Two”, the Task-robot said.
The Shadowman already knew, his interconnection digit and the reconfiguration of his mind, could now process information at the same rate as the Drone.
“Reroute Command Interface through alternate terminals!” screamed the Shadowman, he did not need to give such directions, his mind had already given the order, to the secondary Command Sections.
“No enemy detected”, said the Weapons Console.
“Power levels at seventy five percent”, said the Power Command.
Now the Cyberman became worried, he had always faced enemies that he could feel and touch. He scanned reports from the outside sensors, then he realized that this opponent could not be fought with canon or fist.
; “Termination of Section Twenty-Three”, the Task-robot said.
The Orb and the Shadowman, knew that if this deterioration continued at the same rate, it would soon penetrate all the outer hull plating, into the chamber itself.
“Increase speed to one hundred percent”, shouted the metal man, he removed his interconnecting digit from the Command Console, then stood in front of the Orb. He looked up, to see the red glow from the sphere, he understood that if something were not done soon, the rein of Atos would be over.
Then something entered the Shadowman God's mind, perhaps it was a malfunction in processing or maybe it was a mis-routing of circuitry, or perhaps it was a human thing? Whatever the reason, an idea suddenly sprang into his ordered mind.
Rain; he thought; rain will dilute the potency of the corrosion. If it could be slowed, until they escaped the deadly mist, then he could continue on his God quest.
The sky above the mist was clear, there would be no rain. If Dietas the water Goddess, would not oblige then he would make his own.
“All Talsonar report to the outside and await orders” the Shadowman said. Deep inside the great machine, his orders were obeyed. The creatures that had once been the rulers of the Stone City, rose up from their storage coves and moved into the corridors leading outside. Along with the robot men were Repair-bots and Spotters. They moved quickly, soon they exited the hull and stood awaiting orders from their master. As they did the mist began its work, the metal armor that protected their skin, began to discolor, soon tiny bits of alloy began to flake before it evaporated into the thick air. If the humanoids had been able to feel pain, they would now be screaming in agony, any flesh that was not covered by metal, began to burn. They were no longer beings of flesh with feelings, the Orb had made them into mindless beings, they obeyed and felt nothing. The deadly mist, would have killed them instantly, if they had retained the lungs of a human. When they had been reprocessed by the Orb, the organic air transfers they once had, were replaced by more efficient hydrogen oxygen filters. Even these advanced mechanisms, would not last forever in the corrosive vapors.
Safe inside the chamber, the Shadowman gave the order that he hoped would save him, “begin re-configuration of water terminals”.
It was his plan to order the metal men, to divert a portion of the water flowing into the massive steam engines, and use it to dilute the acid mist, long enough for the moving fortress to find safety.
“Scan for escape heading” he commanded the Task-robot.
“Understood my God”, the drone replied.
It interfaced with Navigation seeking a heading that would take them out of this deadly land. To a place where they could stop to make repairs. The long-range scanners reached out, they only reported more acid mist, there seemed to be no escape.
“Termination of Sections Twenty-Four and Twenty-Seven” the Task-robot said, “penetration of inner hull in seven point nine time periods”.
Although the Cyberman was no longer truly human, he still possessed a mind with enough feeling to know that death was approaching. Like all humans, he knew that soon there would come an end, to all his dreams of glory and revenge.
How can this be? He thought; I am a God and Gods never die! Then something entered his mind, he could not know that it was a memory from the Orb’s past. He now believed that all images of his inner mind, were his and his alone. He saw himself floating around a great star named Procus, time seemed to stand still, he could not calculate if it was a day or a thousand days? His mind focused on one thing.
The wish to die.
The metal man sat down on a Nutrient Conduit near the Orb, he let his weary mind fill with images of blackness and a sleep that never ends.
I should rest now; he thought; a long rest that will bring an ending. He closed his eyes and began to drift off, to a place that all living things must one-day travel, a place without pain. Yes, I will rest now.
Once more, the image of the female with the tiny thing in her arms, crept back into his mind. He saw it clearly, a helpless creature, being held and cared for by the strange woman, the more he looked the more content he felt.
I will rest.
Outside the chamber, the deadly mist was taking its toll, one by one, the weaker Talsonar fell victim to the penetrating air. They did not cry out in pain, as they were brought down, they were far beyond that now. They simply stop moving, they toppled from the racing Iron God, to be consumed by the demon vapor. When one died another took its place, and the work continued. The Repair-bots and the Spotters were made of Itarian steel, so they fared much better than the ones constructed from flesh and bone. Even they began to deteriorate, but they could not go against their orders, they worked on. Soon the task given to them was completed, several conduits fanned out from the water supply tanks, over the main surface of the great machine.
Inside the chamber the Task-robot spoke, “command completed, alternate water connections ready to engage”. There was no reply from the human or the Orb, the Task-robot repeated his report. “Command completed, alternate water connections ready to engage.” Still no response from its master. Accessing a little used secondary program, the drone took on the responsibility, it gave the order to precede. “Begin dilution of corrosive atmosphere”, it said.
Outside its command was obeyed, soon a great spray of water began to stream over the huge machine, with it the desired result.
“Corrosive effects of surrounding mist has weakened twenty-eight percent,” it reported.
Its masters did not hear, they were floating in a dream of death, all they cared about was an end to their existence, an end to their pain. All the while the image remained.
What is that thing the female is holding? They thought, they had no answer.
It could have been the end of them, an end to Atos. The Shadowman was a Nomad, in spite of all the scarring and replacement organs and inter cranial connections. At the core of his being, was the strength of an Outlander. A Nomad NEVER, gives up a fight once it’s started, they will fight on and on until they are killed, they cannot be reasoned with or turned aside. That spark of his heritage, began to burn deep inside him, soon it turned into the fire of life, a blaze of will that could not be ignored. The image vanished from the metal man’s inner eye, to be replaced by the image of his goal.
I will not rest; he thought; Atos is the God of war and I will not rest!
The Shadowman opened his eyes, he turned to the Task-robot, “divert maximum water to the outer plating, use one hundred percent of available speed, find an escape!”
“Understood”, said the Task-robot, once more it connected to the Navigation Console and began to search for a way to safety.
Outside the deterioration continued at a slower rate, it would still not take long until there were no Talsonar slaves left to tend the conduits. The Repair-bots and Spotters had disintegrated into useless scrap.
The Shadowman-Cyborg stood before the Orb, he burned with an inner fire.
I will not fall; he told his mind; I will continue, and find my enemy!
There came a rumbling, as the metal man looked up, he saw a section of the hull begin to give way, and he knew that soon, the killing air would surround him and he would die. Still he did not run or bend his knee, to ask forgiveness from the Gods, he stood proud and defiant.
“I will not fall!” he called out.
As if to answer, he heard the Task-robot speak, “directional heading has encountered an obstruction ahead”
Reaching out with his mind, he saw a great wall of stone, set with a massive door of steel, in an instant he knew that it was a way out.
“Continue at one hundred percent speed!” he screamed.
Being unable to turn away, the Navigation Console reported, “contact in seven point one time cycles, impact”.
Hearing this the Task-robot repeated the information; “Navigation reports that we shall impact structure, alternate course must be taken”.
The Shadowman stood, waiting.
The huge machine, hit the ancient wall, there was a sound like the crashing of titans, the chamber shook like a leaf, caught in the winds of a summer storm. The metal man was thrown to the floor, the Command Console sparked and spluttered, as circuits were torn from their housings, and interconnections broke apart.
Outside, the huge Iron beast crashed through the steel doorway and wall, into a valley of rock. The impact caused a great cascade of stone from the unstable sides of the corridor, it filled the path behind the unstoppable machine. Now the killing mist had no access, it could no longer feast on the metal monster that had entered its domain. With a headlong rush, the steel creature that had fallen from the sky, found safety in the Valley of Despair.
Nomads The Fallen God Page 39