Unless he freed himself from the carrier, it made no difference. Since the carrier was a Zap and not a robot, it could retreat and take the baby any number of places, including into the human ruins. No doubt the deceptive little bastard had a few fallback plans up the sleeve of its alloy sleeper.
The Z-Rex emerged from the stunted buildings onto the smooth gleaming plain where the robot army waited. It paused for a moment, then lifted its head as if to scream a battle cry. To Franklin’s surprise, a high-pitched wail filled the city, oddly mournful and menacing. He wasn’t sure if the sound was real or imagined, but at this point, it truly no longer mattered.
The robots raced forward, agile and fearless, the first wave of half a dozen swarming the Z-Rex. The mighty tail swept around and toppled two of them, but they quickly regained their feet. The dogs dove in, snapping at the creature’s lower legs. One locked its narrow jaws on the Z-Rex, twisting its head and digging for traction on the slick alloy surface. It fell away with a shredded mouthful of alloy, which seemed to dribble like thick water.
“Is it bleeding?” Franklin asked, fascinated by the spectacular battle despite his own bleak circumstances.
“We are one,” the baby said. “But some are more one than others.”
That made no sense, but then, nothing did here in the Blue City. The baby had nothing to gain by giving away information, but his ego was every bit as all-consuming as Kokona’s. When the dogs made a second attack, he squealed with delight. “Take its meat! Show her who’s best.”
The robots flung themselves onto the Z-Rex, seeking to scale its smooth exterior. The metal monster clamped one in its massive hand, talons piercing the robot’s torso. The robot continued to punch and claw at its attacker. The baby let out a soft grunt as if empathizing with the robot’s pain.
If Kokona and this baby are telepathically connected to the city, then they both feel the damage. They’re killing themselves to hurt each other.
But was this any different than humans of the old world? Declaring war, killing strangers, and spilling innocent blood for greed and the delusion of honor? Perhaps waging gladiatorial combat with yourself was what gods did when they were bored.
Suicide as self-worship, then rebuild and start it all over again.
The Z-Rex had the advantage of size and sheer power, but the robots scrabbled over the monster, digging and tearing at it using the advantage of numbers. The Z-Rex plucked one riding its back and swung it into its silver jaws like a gourmet morsel. It bit down and the Zap robot wiggled and flailed for a moment, buckets of soft alloy spilling to the surface. Then the body was dissected as the massive jaws closed, legs falling one way and head and arms the other. The limbs fell and stuck to the silver plain, but the head bounced and rolled away.
The Z-Rex raised one leg and its thigh seemed to bulge as it drove a broad foot down onto a dog. The creature was stamped into nothing, imprinted in the alloy surface. A blow of its tail broke another robot so badly that its arms were driven inside its torso. The weirdest aspect was the lack of blood or screams, aside from the creaking and scraping as the things clawed at one another.
The second wave of Zaps launched an assault, one of them embracing the Z-Rex’s tail. The tail whipped up in the air and hung for a moment like a dancing cobra, and then plummeted down with so much force that the robot’s legs flew off, spilling silver fluid as the damaged creature underwent a sudden transformation.
“How come they lose their fluid like that?” Franklin asked, probing for useful intelligence.
“Change of state,” the baby responded, more intent on the battle than on Franklin’s words. “Solid, liquid, gas, plasma. Our system is based on plasma, so that’s the highest form. Solids have more densely packed molecules, liquids become fluid at the melting point, and if the energy is great enough, it converts to compressible gas.”
“So the same substance can be all four of those states?” Franklin asked. Some of it rang a bell from long-ago chemistry classes in high school, but the Zap mastery of plasma appeared to be their critical breakthrough. That knowledge confirmed the importance of destroying the Zaps’ energy sources if Franklin and the others had any hope of escape.
A couple of robots managed to reach the Z-Rex’s head, desperately hanging on as it whipped its neck back and forth. Its hands were busy fending off the persistent dogs, and its tail thumped and clubbed about, knocking down robots that kept standing and returning to the fray.
A robot climbed the creature’s leg and drove a fist deep into the alloy flesh, grasping and spooling out a dribbling metal cord. Another raked fingers into its underbelly and pulled out a handful of soft alloy. The dogs clacked their teeth into flesh, nibbling away at the tail and legs.
Something about the battle was performative—almost like set pieces going through the motions. Were Kokona and the baby testing each other, probing the limits of their individual powers? After all, they would both end up losers and winners. Every war they waged on each other with their fabricated resources was destined to end in a tie. For all he knew, the two adversaries were fighting a battle of the mind beyond sight and sound.
The Z-Rex chomped and clawed its way through another half a dozen of the robots, but the constant assault had managed to inflict dents and rips in the monster’s metal flesh. Franklin was startled by a blur of motion behind him, and the baby said, “Time for reinforcements.”
Three drone-birds soared out of the tunnel hole, one after another, and spread out in a V, hovering in the air for a moment. Their angled wings were brilliant against the aurora and the deep night beyond, a mock symbol of freedom and weightlessness. Then the formation darted toward the Z-Rex, smashing into its head in a kamikaze mission that knocked out one red eye and sent fine bits of alloy raining to the plain.
The Z-Rex clamped both hands on one of the robots, squeezing it and compressing the figure until it turned to liquid and poured out through the monster’s talons. Heaps of shredded metal and pools of silver fluid lay scattered beneath the Z-Rex’s feet. But the magnificent creature was severely damaged, pocked and torn and oozing shiny substances.
It wobbled and again craned its neck to the sky. The Z-Rex emitted that high mournful wail again, like the last specimen of an evolutionary branch on the brink of extinction. Then it toppled over, slamming onto the flat plain with a thundering crash.
A few broken and melted robots lay around it, some with a strange steam rising from their bodies, but four remained standing, along with two of the dogs.
“I did it,” the baby shouted with glee. “I beat Kokona.”
“It’s not over yet,” Kokona said from behind them.
Franklin turned along with the carrier to see Rachel, DeVontay, and Kokona.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“All you did was destroy your army,” Kokona said with depraved glee.
Rachel, carrying Kokona, was relieved to see Franklin, but she didn’t have time to communicate with him. While the battle was underway, the three of them had taken advantage of the distraction to sneak up on Mouse. Kokona, trusting Rachel was motivated to kill Mouse to save the other humans, had concentrated on guiding the large metal monster during their journey.
From what telepathic scraps Rachel could glean, Mouse was fully focused on his own army and thus wasn’t attuned to Kokona’s presence. Now, with the robots precariously weakened and fifty yards away, Mouse was fully vulnerable, with only the carrier to protect him.
I’ve kicked one carrier’s ass. I can kick another.
Mouse rapidly analyzed the situation, thrown into a panic and directing his carrier to react. First it flung Franklin to the ground—Rachel could see now how bruised and bloodied he was—and then tried to run for the robots, who were already hurrying on their way to protect their lord and master. But DeVontay had already cut off the carrier’s path, his face twisted with a rage so dark that Rachel feared all humanity had been squeezed from him.
With a firearm, the job would’ve been simple, but the Cong
lomerate had already proven capable of rendering guns ineffective. But now the Conglomerate no longer existed—it was every Zap for itself.
The carrier tried to dodge DeVontay’s charge, like a running back evading a defender to reach the end zone. The carrier, who might have possessed some dim human memory of the sport, even carried Mouse like a football, cradled low in both arms. In this case, the goal line was the protection of the robots.
But DeVontay was determined and energized, dancing back and forth while closing in, then slamming into the Zap and wrapping it in bear hug. All three of them fell, surfing along the burnished surface.
“Drag it off of the metal,” Franklin yelled, staggering to his feet. “To the dirt!”
DeVontay and the carrier tangled in a vicious fight, the carrier punching at DeVontay’s head while trying to protect Mouse. Rachel ran to help Franklin to his feet, and then thrust Kokona into his arms. “Hold her.”
Franklin drew back, his wrinkled face etched with revulsion. “No way.”
Rachel gave him no choice, pulling his hands beneath the Zap baby. The baby shrieked and struggled in protest, but Rachel was able to resist Kokona’s telepathic pleas. So much psychic turbulence swirled between the control of the robots and the background hum of city-building that both Kokona and Mouse were much weaker than usual. Some of the damaged robots near the fallen monster rose in silvery lumps, trying to reconstitute themselves and further draining Mouse’s power.
The nearest robots had crossed the plain and were just a few yards from attacking DeVontay. As Rachel ran, she saw DeVontay land a fist into the mutant’s face. Thick blood oozed from its slack mouth, DeVontay’s glass eye reflecting the fury of its gaze. The carrier retaliated by raking curled fingers across DeVontay’s face, leaving four wet lines along his forehead.
Rachel couldn’t help him, though. She raced past him and confronted the robots, wondering how her mutant-enhanced strength would match up against their plasma-fueled forms. They had all the advantages: they didn’t feel pain, they had no self-preservation instinct, and they had no sense of mortality. On the other hand, Rachel saw her human qualities as an advantage—she was driven to protect those she loved.
The three robots fanned out, closing in on her so that she couldn’t watch them all at once. She was grateful the Conglomerate was so overconfident or paranoid that it hadn’t weaponized the fabricated creatures. She would never be able to defeat them if they possessed lasers or even swords and spears.
The robot to her left feinted at her, causing her to turn. The robot to her right used the opening to jump her, but she was quick enough to step back and let the thing sweep past her. She gave it a shove to send it sprawling into the other robot, but the third one was already on her.
Its metal hands closed around her throat as it wrestled her to the hard surface. She could have sworn the fingers softened in warm, damp ropes that sank into her flesh. It reeked of ozone and chemicals. She fought for air, already dizzy. She slammed her hand against the thing’s flank, but the metal there was durable and unyielding.
This was stupid. I had no chance.
“Move them to the dirt!” Franklin shouted. “It makes them weaker.”
Rachel couldn’t make any sense of his words. But Franklin had been out here surviving, testing the environment, and learning while she’d been acting as Kokona’s servant. She’d have to trust his knowledge and experience. It wasn’t like she had anything to lose.
The robot’s face was inches from her own. Her sparking eyes were mirrored in its smooth face. Its cold inhumanity enraged her and she used the burst of adrenaline to grab its wrists and pull them away. The fingers around her throat softened further and then began trickling along her skin, changing from solid to liquid.
Something must be happening to Mouse, because he’s losing command of his robots.
The robot went slack atop her, its weight pressing down and pinning her. She wriggled from beneath it, expecting the other robots to attack her. But they also lay limp beside her, already losing shape as they slowly transformed into silver fluid. The liquid didn’t soak into her clothes, sliding off like mud as she rolled to one side and tried to stand. Traction was difficult in the slippery pool, but when she crawled away from the robot wreckage, DeVontay was still struggling with the carrier.
Mouse had been thrown free of the fight and lay several feet away. The baby raged and screamed, evidently so distressed he was unable to keep his robots constituted, much less motivated to attack. Even though DeVontay was losing his battle with the carrier, blood dripping from his chin, Rachel didn’t hesitate. She scooped up Mouse and sprinted toward Franklin, who had retreated into the human ruins at the edge of the city.
“Don’t tell me I have to hold that one, too,” Franklin said when she arrived.
“This one’s mine,” Rachel said.
Mouse uttered a constant stream of invectives, petulantly flailing and whining. “I’ll build a robot so big it will stomp you with one toe!”
Keep on ranting, you little maniac. The crazier you get, the weaker you are.
“Kill him, Rachel,” Kokona said, disturbed that she couldn’t penetrate Rachel’s thoughts.
“No,” Rachel said. “I can’t trust you. Even if you win the city, I’ll still be your slave. And I can’t do that.”
“You betrayed me,” Kokona spat. The two babies screamed at each other and at the humans, a mad, ranting poetry of rage.
The center of the city began to sway, the finely articulated windows and features blurring and fading. The architecture brought to life through the Conglomerate’s imagination was collapsing in discord. Already the nearest nascent buildings were melting and losing shape like fat pats of butter on a big griddle.
When Rachel proposed the plan to use Kokona’s metal monster to attack Mouse’s robots, she’d pitched it as a way to goad Mouse so they could attack him. But she’d secretly harbored the hope that both babies would be distracted during the battle. The plan appeared to be working.
But DeVontay might pay the price for it. DeVontay was on his back, the carrier astride him and throwing punches at DeVontay’s bruised face. He managed to dodge and twist so that few of the blows landed directly, but they were taking a toll. He tried to fight back but grew weaker by the second. The carrier was too strong.
“My monster’s going to kill you all,” Kokona squealed.
“Your Z-Rex is done for,” Franklin said. “Why don’t you be a good girl and suck your thumb or something?”
Kokona’s eyes blazed in anger. She fell silent and her lips curled into a pout, obviously concentrating. In the distance, the big metal monster’s tail slid slowly across the plain, sweeping aside heaps of melted and broken robot parts. It rocked its hips, trying to roll onto its side, one red eye smoldering with cold enmity.
The thing Franklin called a “Z-Rex” appeared to be healing, its jagged wounds smoothing over. Mouse’s robots and dogs, in contrast, were decaying into wet lumps that soon spread out in thick silver pools. The liquid glinted with the reflections of plasma and aurora, adding to the disorienting effects of the colored light.
“Looks like Kokona is winning,” Rachel said to Mouse, attempting to coax the baby into depleting its powers.
The baby snorted in disgust. “Maybe, but I’ll make sure your black-assed boyfriend is dead first.”
She looked worriedly at DeVontay, who had broken free of the carrier but couldn’t get away before the mutant snared him again. The carrier dragged him down to the city’s slick skin, driving a knee into the small of his back. He folded backward and grunted, too weak to fend off a renewed flurry of blows.
“Rachel,” Franklin said.
His tone was odd. Rachel wondered if Kokona had done something to seduce him, to mentally seize control of his mind and turn him into her next carrier. Kokona had proven capable of using humans before, including Marina. Such enslavement would utterly devastate Franklin, because his entire identity was constructed on independence
and freedom.
But when she turned, Kokona wasn’t gloating about her latest conquest. She lay in a scruffy patch of dead weeds, her tiny fists balled and tucked under chin. Franklin stood over her, holding a length of pipe about four feet long. One tip was cut at a sharp angle.
The tip pointed down at Kokona’s throat.
“I’m sorry to do this, honey.” Franklin looked ancient with misery and despair, the years creasing his face and hooding his eyes. Tears glinted on his wrinkled cheeks. “It’s the only way.”
Rachel realized with horror that Franklin was killing her. Because they both knew she would die along with Kokona.
Then the horror was replaced by relief.
Franklin was doing what she was too weak to do herself. He was right. This was the only way they could all be free.
She nodded.
“No, Franklin!” Kokona squealed. “I’ll give you the city. You can rule it with me. Be my carrier! Don’t let them—”
“Burn in Zap hell, you little bitch.” Franklin plunged the makeshift spear down into Kokona’s face, right between the sparking eyes that had possessed Rachel for the last four years.
She expected to feel a sympathetic pain, or maybe just numbness, before she collapsed. Instead, she felt a strange sensation inside her skull and then came a familiar voice.
“At last you’re mine,” Mouse whispered without moving his lips.
His thoughts probed like tendrils into her brain, seeking to root inside her very soul. She didn’t know how much of her soul remained, but she was damned tired of renting it out to mutant tyrants bent on destroying the human race.
She flung Mouse toward Franklin even as Mouse’s sudden rising anger flared like a hundred rockets in her head. She dropped to her knees and closed her eyes, trying to pray to the god she’d long discarded. There was no room for a god in the storm of Mouse’s invasion.
Crucible: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Next Book 5) Page 13