They obeyed. As we started walking, it suddenly occurred to me that somehow I seemed to have become their leader. I narrowed my eyebrows thoughtfully, wondering just how that had happened.
Crow took us to the Old Quarter on the outskirts of the city. By the time we reached The Black Rose, the sounds of battle had faded entirely. Crow was certain this meant that the Vangar airships had already been defeated. It would have seemed improbable a few hours earlier, but having witnessed Sanctuary’s machinations and awesome technologies firsthand, none of us doubted Crow’s opinion. After all, we couldn’t even guess what sort of weapons the Tal’mar might possess now. Based on what we had seen of the city so far, its defenses were probably quite impressive.
As we entered the inn, Crow explained that our mother had lived there once, many years before. “When she first came here, father took her to this tavern. They lived here with Socrates for nearly a year.”
“Socrates,” I mumbled. “Who is this person the two of you keep talking about?”
Crow smiled. “I can’t explain, sister. You will understand when you meet him.”
We entered The Black Rose and found Breeze lying on a sofa in the main room downstairs. A fire was burning in the fireplace and the smell of food wafted out of the kitchen. Sitting in the chair next to her, reading from an old leather-bound manuscript, was a creature that I could only assume was Socrates. My eyes widened as I saw him and I sensed several of my companions go stiff. Socrates calmly lowered his book to gaze at us.
“Socrates,” Crow said. “This is my sister River, and her companions.”
“River,” Socrates said with a slight smile. “It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.” He rose from the chair and held out his hand. As he moved, several people in our group flinched. I boldly stepped forward and shook hands with him. I smiled as I felt his leathery flesh against my skin and gazed into those deep golden eyes.
“Well met,” I said politely, trying not to stare at the machinery poking through the smooth midnight blue fur on the side of his head and his arm. I was reminded of the overseer, and yet at the same time I wasn’t. I could tell from his eyes and his handshake that Socrates was nothing like Rutherford. I wasn’t sure how to treat him, though. His appearance led me to believe he was some sort of animal, but he was clearly mechanical as well. I thought he might be a combination of the two, like the sentinels.
Socrates was dressed in short breeches without boots, and wore a fine white shirt with a dark gray vest over the top. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and I saw what appeared to be bits of dough matted in his fur. His countenance was that of an animal, but his clothing, mannerisms, and speech were quite human. I couldn’t get over the enigma.
“I’ve never met someone like you,” I said, unable to contain my curiosity. “What is your race called?”
Socrates laughed gently. “I suppose you would call me an automaton. I am a machine.”
As the others saw Socrates speaking and came to realize that he was no threat, they visibly relaxed. He went on to explain that there were many other machines like him in the city, a fact that Crow immediately disputed. “There is none other like Socrates,” he said.
Socrates bowed his head slightly. “You flatter me. I must admit, that I am the only autonomous, sentient machine. I am the Creator’s greatest invention. But I digress, and there are more important matters at hand. As you can see, I have given Breeze a sedative and she is resting. Will the rest of you share a meal with me? I’ve prepared roast fowl with freshly baked herb bread, and vegetables sautéed in a light butter sauce.”
My eyebrows shot up. Crow just smiled. Needless to say, we didn’t need any convincing. Kale and I helped Socrates lay out the food while Crow and his father tended to the rest of the group. Many had fingers and toes that had gone completely black with frostbite. Without healing, they would have lost those digits and possibly entire limbs. For the last few hours out in the snow, Crow simply couldn’t keep up. Now that he could rest and replenish his energy, these healings were almost trivial.
The meal Socrates had prepared for us was a feast, though we were all so hungry that we ate faster than our taste buds could process the flavors. Socrates took a few bites, but no more. When he saw me watching him, he explained, “As a machine, I obviously do not need food. I do however, have the capacity to taste. I like to sample foods and observe how the flavors change. I process this information and store it for future reference. Cooking is something of a hobby of mine.”
We all marveled at that, of course. Socrates claimed to be a simple machine, and yet he was clearly so much more. His ability to work, to create, even to learn seemed to imply that Socrates was more than the sum of his parts. As the evening progressed, I began to suspect Socrates’ nature had as much to do with starfall as anything else. He was a brilliant creation of course, but he was definitely more than a machine.
Halfway through the meal, Breeze woke and joined us. I heard a noise and saw her standing in the doorframe, staring at me. I rose from my chair, watching her, wondering what I should do or say. I can’t even describe what that was like. I hadn’t seen my mother since I was a toddler, and all my life I had believed her dead. Now here she was, almost a stranger to me, and yet somehow familiar. I knew her face, her eyes. Especially her hair.
I wanted to rush over to her but I was suddenly unsure. What if she didn’t accept me? What if I had somehow disappointed her? I felt a lump in my throat as she walked across the room and stood before me, staring up into my face. The entire room went silent and I couldn’t even breathe. Then she shook her head and in a breaking voice said, “I’m so sorry.”
She threw her arms around me, pulling me close, and I closed my eyes as her scent washed over me. My mind filled with broken memories of staring up into those eyes, of that hair falling down around me. Before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face. I tried to find words to tell her that it was okay, that none of that mattered, but no sound would come.
At last, she pulled away to gaze up into my face. “I never should have left,” she said. “I’m, so very sorry.”
“No,” I said shaking my head. I started to say more but my voice broke and I didn’t have the strength to force the words. I was trying hard not to cry, not to let the others see me, but it was already too late for that. I pulled her back into my arms and held on for a few more seconds, a sense of warmth and familiarity that I had never known filling me. I raised my eyes to glance around the room and saw all the faces staring at us, smiling, some of them even crying.
“Well, I suppose we’d better sit down and let the rest of you eat,” she said when we finally parted. We all laughed at that, and with the sound of our laughter the weight of the moment seemed to lift.
Breeze settled down in the chair next to me and began asking questions. She wanted to know everything about me; about my childhood, my youth, and everything else that she had missed out on in her absence. I answered her questions and when I was too slow to respond, Kale was quick to help. I had forgotten that Kale had known my mother when he was young. I saw right away that they had a deep bond, the sort of connection that two people could only have after they’ve been through hell together. It was touching in a strange sort of way, seeing the smiles on their faces as they revisited their old stories, and it slowly dawned on me that in a way, Kale was as much family to my mother as he was to me.
It was with great sorrow that I had to tell my mother about Tinker’s death, and the effect on her was considerable. My mother wept, and I couldn’t help but join her. She rose from her seat to put her arms around me and when I looked up, I saw tears in everyone’s eyes. Even big, strong Kale.
After that, we made several toasts in Tinker’s honor. Breeze and some of the others shared their wonderful memories and stories about him. My favorite was the story of how Breeze -as a very young girl- had stolen one of Tinker’s cannon charges thinking it was a rock. She threw it at his barn and nearly knocked down an entire wa
ll.
I believe I bested her story with my own tale of getting into Tinker’s vials of chemicals and powders in my youth. I mixed them together into a random potion that burned down our shanty and nearly set fire to all of Dockside. Tinker spent the next year trying to recreate my potion because he wanted to know what combination of chemicals could start a fire without a spark. We all shared a good laugh and another round of drinks over that.
In all, it was a wonderful, joyous evening. Possibly the best of my life. For a few brief hours, we forgot all that we had suffered and lost, and we celebrated the fact that we still had each other. And then, just before midnight, the Tal’mar came for us.
Chapter 14
Kale was reciting the tale of how he’d become a steamshovel operator when they arrived. Halfway through the story, I saw Crow tense up. I followed his gaze and saw movement outside the front windows. Kale sensed our mood and immediately fell silent.
My hand instantly went to my revolver, but Crow shook his head. “Leave it here,” he said. He rose up, eyeing the others. “Leave your weapons on the table and follow me. Do not try to fight. We are outnumbered a hundred to one.”
It was a sober and disappointing end to our celebration. I glanced around the room and saw the others looking at me, wondering if they could trust Crow. I placed my revolver on the table and rose to my feet. “Do as he says,” I instructed. Grudgingly, they discarded the knives, swords, and other miscellaneous weapons they had collected from the mountain camp. Then, one by one, we filed through the door after Crow.
Tal’mar warriors lined the street, waiting for us. The met us with swords drawn and arrows knocked to their bowstrings. The one who was in charge stepped out in front of us and said, “You will follow me.”
“One moment,” said a voice behind us. I turned to see my mother appear in the doorway. She came down the steps and passed through the crowd, only glancing at me as she passed by. “Put your weapons away, Lordain,” she said.
He smiled wryly. “You no longer have the authority to command me, half-breed.”
Breeze thrust her hand out, grabbing him by the throat. The other Tal’mar tensed up around us, but she didn’t even seem to notice. She pulled him close to her face, staring right into his eyes, and said, “Tell them to put down their weapons or I will kill you.”
A few breathless moments passed. As I watched them, I realized that some sort of struggle was going on between them. It was something powerful, something invisible. The energy radiated out from them like heat, and it made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I saw grim determination on Lordain’s face as he locked eyes with her, and I sensed that he was battling her in some way. This went on for about ten seconds, then Lordain’s face changed and I saw something else in his eyes: fear.
He dropped his hands to his side and lowered his eyes. “Drop your weapons,” he said.
“But Lordain-” one of the warriors protested.
“Do it!” he shouted. “Drop your weapons.”
Breeze let him go and he turned away, furious and ashamed. He walked up to the fighter who had challenged him and took the man’s sword from his grip. “Don’t question me again!” he shouted, flinging the sword to the ground. It clattered across the cobblestones and then lay still at their feet. Slowly, the others around them began dropping their weapons. I stared at my mother in awe, still unsure as to what exactly she had done. Without a backward glance, she began walking down the street. We all fell in line behind her.
The Tal’mar warriors closed in to follow behind us as Breeze led us through the city. We followed her for three miles, finally entering one of the massive buildings downtown. The walk had taken us less than an hour, but it seemed like days. Every corner revealed some new amazing secret, some ingenious machine or architectural wonder. Tense as our situation was, I found myself less worried about where we were going than what I might pass up. There were too many wondrous things to take in. I wanted to stop and see them all.
When at last we reached the building where the queen waited for us, hundreds of Tal’mar were there, lining the street and packing the inside like rats on a sinking ship. My mother led us down a long, wide hallway and into a large elegant ballroom. The queen sat in a throne at the far end of the room. Silently, we approached her. No one moved to stop us.
“I told Lordain to take you prisoner,” the Tal’mar queen said, eyeing Breeze up and down.
“I didn’t let him,” Breeze said defiantly. “This is my daughter, River,” she said. “She is a brave warrior.” She turned, waving me forward. I walked up to her side and she took me by the hand.
The queen cast a judgmental look at me and then drew her gaze back to my mother. “And how is this relevant?”
“She is your great granddaughter, you fool,” Breeze said. “She is your kin, your very blood.”
“She is a human,” the queen said distastefully.
I winced. I hadn’t ever finished reading my mother’s journals, or I might have known the ordeals she faced as a child. Listening to our grandmother speak, I suddenly began to understand. “You’re not my grandmother,” I said, loud enough that everyone could hear me. “You’re a bitter old witch.”
The Tal’mar around us gasped. A slight smile curved my mother’s lips. “She’s too much like you,” the queen said dismissively. “Regardless. On to the matter at hand. Breeze, you have conspired against the throne. You have led our enemies to our fortress. For this, you must die.”
“No!” shouted a voice at the back of the room. I heard a grunt and a shriek and saw the crowd part as Socrates came ambling into the court. He rushed across the floor to stand next to my mother. The queen rolled her eyes.
“I have not invited you, beast,” she said.
“I did not invite you into my city, but still I have tolerated your presence!” he said angrily.
Again, gasps and murmuring behind us. The queen frowned and a deeply menacing look crossed her face. “How dare you speak to me with such insolence. You forget your place, machine!”
“You forget your place, woman,” he said. He turned, waving a giant furry hand at the crowd behind us. “You all forget your place.”
Suddenly he leapt forward and took hold of the queen. A primal shriek escaped his lips as he yanked her off the throne. The guards rushed forward, but didn’t dare move against him. He still held her in his powerful grip, and with one quick movement, he might snap her neck.
Socrates reached out with his right hand, lifting the massive throne in the air. He threw it down, shattering it into a million pieces on the hard marble floor. “You came unbidden to my city,” he shouted. “You welcomed yourselves into my home. You treated my kind as your slaves. I quietly tolerated all of this. I thought my creators had returned, but I now see that I have been deceived. You are not my creators. You are a thousand generations passed, and none for the better. You are a weak and arrogant people!”
As he spoke, I heard shouts and strange noises behind us. I turned to see an entire herd of gorillas ambling into the hall. I could tell by looking at them that these beasts were mechanical. They weren’t like Socrates, though. Not really. (I would later learn that Socrates had designed many of these creatures himself, to help monitor and protect the wildlife around the city. This was one of the jobs the Creator had given him.) More machines streamed in behind the gorillas, scattering out to fill the court. I recognized some of them as automatons I had seen tending shops and cleaning the streets.
It was perfectly clear to everyone there that the machines had come at Socrates’ bidding, and they would do whatever it took to defend him. I had the sinking feeling that things were about to get violent. As usual, Socrates was one step ahead of us all.
Socrates shoved the queen, and she fell awkwardly to the floor in front of us. I shot my mother a worried look but her face was serene, perhaps even pleased. “I welcomed you into my city and you took it as your own!” Socrates yelled, casting his gaze back and forth over the audience. “You
ignored me while you established a new government and appointed your queen to rule over us. Today, it ends. You no longer rule this city. This is no more your queen.”
“You can’t do this,” the queen said, pushing to her feet. “Guards, kill him. Kill them all!”
The gorillas closed in threateningly, and reached out to take the guards’ weapons. “I don’t think you heard him, grandmother,” Breeze said. “You’re not the queen anymore.” She turned to face the rest of the crowd. “There will be no more queens and kings. Nobility is not a birthright. From this day forward, the only nobility will be that of the actions and characters of our people. Freedom is not a privilege to be granted or withheld at the whim of our leaders, it is our birthright.”
She turned to face Socrates and he nodded respectfully. “From this day forward,” she said, “we are all free.”
“Lordain,” Breeze said, turning to face him. “Gather the Tal’mar together and choose three leaders from amongst you. You must reach your decision by anonymous vote. When you have chosen your leaders, send them to me. Grandmother, I suggest you go with them. While you’re gone, bear this in mind: the machines of this city are Socrates’ family, Even the buildings themselves obey his command. Their loyalty belongs to Socrates alone, and they will be watching you.”
Having little other choice, the Tal’mar filed out of the room to go make their decision. It was obvious that they were not happy. I turned to face my mother and saw her smiling.
“You planned this entire thing, didn’t you?”
“I’ve had a lot of time on my hands,” she said, laughing.
I stared at her and then at Socrates, who had been watching us quietly. “What now?” I said. “Will this really work?”
“Oh, I’m sure some of the Tal’mar will start conspiring immediately,” she said. “I also expect them to vote for the same nobles who have just been relieved of their powers. Still, there is a chance they might surprise me.”
Blood and Steam (The Tinkerer's Daughter) Page 22