by Phoenix Ward
“I hope so,” the human replied. “I hope I get to see the look on Harring and Nidus’s faces when we bring the fight to them. We’ll make them pay — for both of us.”
He took another pull on the bottle, and Tera mimicked the action for appearances. They stared at the floor for a quiet handful of minutes.
“You know, I think I would have been a beautiful woman,” Tera said once the silence threatened to go on all night. “As a human, I mean.”
The anger and sadness drained away from Ethan’s face, replaced with concern as he looked at the bodyshell.
“I always wonder what I would have looked like,” she continued. “Who I would have been.”
“I think you’re beautiful no matter what body you’re in,” Ethan said, cutting off the end of her sentence.
Tera’s face lightened up with surprise and she smiled. “Really?” she asked.
“It’s your soul,” Ethan said. “That’s what makes you beautiful. What you do — who you are. They took your organic body away from you, and it was a goddamn crime. What I remember, though, is everything they took from us led us to this moment. To each other.”
Tera couldn’t hide the admiration in her expression as she offered the bottle once more.
Revolution
On the morning of the attack on Shell City, King Hum and Adviser Orram strode across the barren earth to Major Danib’s tent. When they approached the canopy, they could see the Battalion officer finishing up a quiet conversation with one of his own advisers. He turned around when he heard the sounds of guests, the desert horizon reflecting in his dark shades. His mustache bent as he smiled at the Opesians.
“Greetings, your grace,” Danib said. “The weather seems in our favor today, so long as we keep away from the sun.”
“Indeed,” King Hum said. “It seems that God wants our approach to be as clear as possible. They are likely already assembling a response within the city.”
“Which, if Nayla and her people did their jobs right, should be a bit tricky for them.” Major Danib chuckled.
Neither Orram or the king returned the laugh. In fact, neither felt like laughter was possible until they knew the Council lay in ruins.
“I cannot thank you enough for your aid, major,” the I.I. king said. “If anything turns the tides today, it will be our unity.”
“Agreed, your grace,” the Battalion leader said. “I don’t think we’d be here if we were the only ones to join you. Come, let’s look over our people’s work.”
The three of them left the operations tent, squinting as the bright sun hit them in the eyes. King Hum raised a mechanical hand to shield his face from the blinding rays.
A thin cloud of dust hung in the air as people and machines moved back and forth, establishing the blockade around Shell City. While roadblocks of debris, gun nests, and artillery lines were being put together, another group of soldiers worked to construct a refugee center behind the defensive lines. Troops from each army dug foundations and raised tents while the Orange-hired medics went around setting up beds and operating tents.
“Do you think these centers will be adequate?” King Hum asked as they walked past a nurse with a clipboard shouting out orders to four young soldiers. “Once the attack begins, I mean.”
“Depends on a whole lot of factors, my good sir,” Major Danib replied. “We honestly haven’t a clue how many refugees to expect. President Euring sent an awful lot of medical supplies and staff to help us, but I can’t help but feel like we’re going to be short no matter what we do. War tends to make fools of anyone trying to predict what will happen, you know.”
“Then let us pray we don’t have many people to treat,” King Hum said. Orram nodded at his king’s side.
The ground around them started to shake a little, growing in intensity with each quake. The trio looked up to see Farmer Ben approaching them in one of his enormous harvest mechs. The farming equipment that had once adorned the mech were replaced by weapons of war, fitted for the coming battle. A tank-like cannon and an ammunition feeder were installed on its back where its gargantuan grain storage tank was normally mounted. Belts of finger-sized bullets dangled from either of the mech’s arms, which had Gatling guns attached to them instead of the typical claw and sickle.
Farmer Ben shouted something, but none of the men on the ground could hear him over the last footfall, which kicked up a plume of dirt with a boom. Major Danib cupped his ear to indicate that he hadn’t heard what the Gearhead said.
“My guys are all in place!” Farmer Ben shouted again once his mech came to a full stop. “We’re ready to unleash hell on the city walls — on your signal, of course.”
“Excellent!” King Hum yelled back up at the Gearhead farmer. “Now we just need to wait for the battle to begin.”
He turned to gaze at the walls of Shell City, which flickered in the hot vapors of the desert. They were only a mile from the city, but the blue in the atmosphere still tried to obscure the walls.
“Are we ready, your grace?” Adviser Orram asked.
King Hum nodded. “Let’s just hope Ethan, Tera, and Gauge are ready, too.”
Tera and Gauge blended in perfectly with the other slum dwellers. Both were nervous that someone might recognize them and cause a scene, but they managed to sneak into Shell City without so much as a glance in their direction. The disguised bodyshells they occupied, designed to look broken and cheap, seemed to do the trick. They wore rags over their heads like many slum-bound I.I.s did, which concealed them further.
It was slow moving once they were in the thick of the pedestrian crowds, so they took the time to survey their situation. Tera made eye contact with one of the Council officers tasked with policing Slumside, like she had once been. It gave her a quick wink, and any fear of being discovered that may have filled her dissipated.
“I think most of the cops down here are Nayla’s people,” Tera whispered to her partner as they shuffled through the muddy street.
“I think you’re right,” Gauge replied, nodding subtly at another white bodyshell, which also appeared to be occupied by one of Nayla’s Ghosts. “I gotta say, I’m impressed.”
“I’m sure it was no walk in the park.”
“No, but it makes our part easier,” Gauge commented. “We should make our move soon.”
“Once we get to a clearing,” Tera said.
“Who’s doing the talking?” Gauge asked.
They walked with the crowd in silence for a moment before turning to each other and playing a round of rock, paper, scissors. Gauge smashed Tera’s scissors with a rock and she let out a groan.
“Alright, I’ll do it,” she said.
They only walked for another ten minutes before the foot traffic led them into the largest clearing in Slumside. Tera recognized it right away as the “town square”, where she once found a flyer advertising Nidus’s Shedder cult. Where she had patrolled with Abenayo.
She walked within arm’s reach of a human liaison officer who looked a little like her former tutor. The Council bodyshell reached out and stopped her.
“We’re in position,” the cop said. “It’s time to crack open the shell.”
Tera nodded at the code phrase, then took in a deep breath. She closed her eyes and let the artificial exhale escape her bodyshell.
“Let’s get this started,” she told the Ghost cop.
Just after she said that, there was a scream in the crowd from behind her. The sound of people running and others struggling reached Tera’s ears as she pushed her way to the center of the clearing. A short burst of gunfire split the air as a few bodyshells hit the ground. She noticed some of the white bodyshells pointing their weapons at others, opening fire or simply disarming their targets. In the corner of her vision, Tera saw one police bodyshell convulsing on the ground as its current occupant fought against a Ghost I.I. who was trying to seize control of the mechanical body. She heard a couple battle cries as a few humans rushed up and incapacitated a handful of Council
cops. She instantly recognized two of them from her short visit among Truck’s Raiders. Truck himself was likely in the crowd, having insisted on joining his marauders the night before.
“Your attention!” Tera shouted as she heaved a large man aside and walked up to the small stage structure in the middle of the clearing. She struggled to climb atop it as the panic and chaos grew around her. “Your attention, please!”
No one paid her any mind. The cries and shouts and small pockets of brawling rippled through the crowd. None of the slum dwellers knew what was going on; for all they could tell, they were being rounded up by the cops for a random execution.
“Please! Listen to me!” Tera shouted again. Her words fell on deaf ears.
A gunshot overpowered the sounds of panic and fear and a wave of quiet washed over the slum dwellers. Tera rubbed her artificial ears as she cast Gauge an annoyed look. The Union rebel put his gun back into its holster and patiently gestured at her to continue. She thanked him before turning back to the captivated crowd.
“It’s time for a revolution,” she started. Her voice was amplified as it boomed out over the heads of the slum dwellers. Some of the Council cops who had surrendered their weapons to the Raiders and the Ghosts scowled at her as she spoke. “The Council doesn’t want the best for you. They never have. You know this. If you want to build a better Shell City — a better world — then we need you to fight. If you don’t want to put your life at risk to bring the Council down, go home now; no one will fault you for that. If you want change, however — real change — then join us as we march on the Pavilion. We’ll give those bastards something to fear for once!”
There was a moment of silence as her words were absorbed by the audience. A few people started making their way away from Tera and the others. They looked over their shoulders with frightened eyes, terrified that Tera was a liar and the revolutionaries would converge on them. Almost everyone remained, however.
Then, as if an applause sign lit up over a stage, the crowd exploded with cheers. There was an almost cathartic roar that rushed out of everyone, as if this was the moment they were waiting for their whole lives. With a bit of pushing and excited jostling, people started making their way in the direction of the Pavilion.
They don’t need to be told twice, Tera thought as she watched the slum dwellers continue to rile themselves up.
A flicker of motion caught her attention from the corner of her eyes. Looking up, she saw a flock of a half dozen gunships circling around and descending in the direction the mob was moving. She watched as they started landing out of sight, presumably onto the Pavilion itself.
“That’s the signal!” Major Danib shouted as he watched the gunships through a magnified scope. Lowering the device, he turned to the nearest Battalion soldier, who stood at attention for this moment. “Fire!”
“Fire!” the soldier shouted, passing the order on through his radio.
“Alright boys, this is it!” Farmer Ben yelled from his mechsuit.
“Excuse me?” one of the Gearheads, a woman, cried back to him.
Farmer Ben rolled his eyes. “I meant, ‘folks, this is it!’ ” he corrected himself. “Let ‘em have it!”
The air along the blockade was filled with deep concussions as the artillery guns and Gearhead mechs started bombarding the walls of Shell City.
Ethan swallowed hard as the metal ground of the Pavilion seemed to rush up at the gunship. The loading bay door was already opening before the aircraft even came within a hundred feet of landing. Ethan lost his balance as the first blast of flak hit the side of the gunship. The troops who filled the belly of the aircraft buckled as well, but kept their stance as they readied their weapons.
There were soldiers from each nation aboard the gunship, as well as on the five others that flew alongside them. Mercenaries from Orange, soldiers from Battalion, rebels of the Union, and the Opesian army were all landing with Ethan in the heart of the Council’s territory. Even a few of the smaller Gearhead mechs were in the assault, as well as the Ghosts deadliest warriors. Ethan felt he was in good company, despite the almost suicidal nature of his task. He looked down at the radio beacon, which was clipped to his chest by a harness.
Just gotta run as fast as I can and plant the son of a bitch, Ethan thought, feeling the device with his clammy hands. That’s all. Don’t think about it. Just run and try not to die.
He could feel the rockets under the gunship fire up to slow the aircraft’s descent. Concussive blows continued to strike the vehicle as they started to come to a full stop.
Ethan felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over at the unfamiliar Union rebel, who met his eyes.
“You’re gonna find the Council’s storage bank to the north,” the rebel said, pointing out the bay doors. “Run and try to conceal your approach. We will cover you.”
The human teenager tried to speak, but no words came to him. He nodded in response as the gunship shook violently. They had landed.
As the bay door finished opening and the ramp to the ground was in place, the troops rushed out like water from a spigot. Battle cries filled Ethan’s ears as he closed his eyes and ran alongside the others. Once he was outside the gunship, the sound of gunshots and blaster fire overtook him. While his senses overloaded, he faced north.
Just run, he told himself.
Powder Keg
The shockwave that emanated from the artillery gun blew the bristles of Major Danib’s mustache sideways as he gazed at the wall through digital optics. His brow furrowed as he zoomed in a little farther. With a frantic wave of his arm, he shouted back at the gunners.
“Cease fire!” he bellowed. “Cease fire! Civilians on the target!”
King Hum stepped up to the hump of dirt Danib watched the wall from. He magnified his vision with a simple mental command and saw a line of forms spilling out of Shell City. The refugees approached them in a wide, dark wave. Even from his distance, the Opesian king could see the panic in their body language.
“It looks like they have wounded,” Hum said to Major Danib.
“I agree,” the Battalion leader replied. He turned to the nearest soldier. “Order the medical facilities to be ready for refugees!”
The young man replied with a “Yes, sir!” then sprinted off to the tents behind the firing line.
“Let’s hope there’s not more of them,” Danib said just quiet enough for King Hum to hear. “I don’t think we’re ready for the amount out there right now.”
“Sir!” a voice cried from behind the two leaders. They both turned and saw one of Danib’s lieutenants with a long-range radio set strapped to her back.
“What is it, soldier?” Danib asked.
“We’ve intercepted a message,” the lieutenant replied. “The Council has notified the other cities of the attack. They are organizing a response as we speak.”
Major Danib’s face fell and the blood drained from his skin. “That’ll be all,” he said to the soldier.
“What do we do?” King Hum asked once the lieutenant disappeared.
“We do our jobs,” Major Danib replied. “And pray that everyone else does theirs.”
Even Tera and Gauge were surprised by the enthusiasm in the slum dwellers. It wasn’t just that, though. It was the focus they had. They weren’t running around attacking each other, stealing and breaking things that belonged to their fellow dwellers. Instead, they unified to take down each Council officer who responded to the scene. Whenever someone was injured, ten people flooded in to take his or her place while the crowd took care of them and made sure they got to safety. In a weird way, it filled Tera with pride.
“Freeze!” she heard one of the white bodyshells yell to the rioters as it arrived on scene. He tried to open fire on one of the dwellers as they charged him, but the gun was already out of his hand before the command finished leaving his voice speaker. Tera couldn’t see what happened to the cop as the crowd swallowed him up.
I wonder if the sergeant is out there, Tera won
dered, thinking of her old boss. If he’s smart, he’s sticking out of this one.
The crowd started to get congested as they made their way up the highway ramp that connected the lower slums to the Pavilion. All traffic came to a standstill as the pedestrians filled the motorway. Autocars continued to zoom over their heads, but the earth-bound vehicles could only honk in frustration as the people swarmed around them. Some of the drivers even abandoned their cars to join the march.
Truck’s Raiders did a good job of arming the civilians who now made up a bulk of the mob. They seemed to know exactly who could be trusted with a rifle and who couldn’t. There were occasional bursts of gunfire, to which people screamed and ducked, but it always came from the mob itself. Anyone trying to attack them from the outside was promptly brought down by the Ghosts and the armed slum dwellers.
Everyone was shoulder-to-shoulder as the forward movement seemed to stop. It seemed like they had come up to a barricade, as if they were a river stopped by a dam. Gauge offered Tera a boost so she could see what was stopping the crowd. With a darting of her mechanical head, she saw it. A line of Council soldiers, at least a hundred strong, stood in a firm formation, blocking the way into the Pavilion.
“Halt!” she heard the white bodyshells shouting at the mob. “Proceed no farther or you will be shot!”
“Fuck off or you’ll be scrapped for parts!” someone yelled back from the mob.
Voices erupted in agreement as the people tried to push forward.
“This is your last warning!” the bodyshell in charge of the Council response barked.
“Right back at you, bub!” another cry came.
“Turn around and go home or we will open fire!”
No one was able to reply before gunfire shattered the atmosphere. Some trigger-happy cop got nervous and opened fire before the order went out. Before anyone knew what was going on, both sides exploded into action. Guns from the mob were raised as bullets ripped over the civilians’ heads and tore into the white bodyshells. With panic stamped on their faces, the troops opened fire on anything that moved.