He looked back to find a metallic fist colliding with his face. Aegis rolled with the impact as his blood splattered on the tile. Hurtling back, his eyes tore and his vision blurred. He brought the Aegis up to cover his face as his back cracked against a wall. Pain danced up his spine as he pulled himself up to a shaky fighting stance.
Standing, he saw First Sentinel fighting COBALT-3, a whirlwind of knives and articulated limbs. But his father was still weak, slow. He took a roundhouse kick on the side, up and under his protective longcoat. His father doubled over, and COBALT-3 raised a foot to stomp down on the fallen hero.
Oh no you don’t.
Aegis tackled the mechanical tyrant, knocking her several steps back and away from First Sentinel. Aegis took an elbow to the collarbone and hoped he was just imagining the cracking sound. He recovered, raising the Aegis to block the line to his collar. With those serpentine limbs, COBALT-3 could attack on any line from any position. But she was still a machine, she had patterns, and they could be exploited.
“Eagle’s wing on three!” Aegis called, watching red streaks pound into COBALT-3’s carapace armor.
“One!”
Still huffing, First Sentinel broke left, taking Aegis’ position, while Blurred Fists kept COBALT-3 occupied by filling her vision with harmless but distracting strikes. The machine tyrant struck back with powerful swipes, but Blurred Fists was never there.
“Two!”
Aegis wheeled around, feeling out the proper hinge point as he considered the civilians. Another wave of guards would be arriving any moment, and Sabreslate couldn’t hold them off forever. Not while keeping the group calm.
“Three!”
Blurred Fists feinted to the side and turned up the speed of attacks, drawing COBALT-3’s attention away from First Sentinel. First Sentinel braced, and Aegis planted his feet on his father’s shoulders. He sprung up, flipped twice in the air, and brought the Aegis down directly on the back of COBALT-3’s head. Aegis didn’t feel the metal give beneath the shield, and saw that his blow had barely scratched as he landed from the strike.
“Datum: Recent upgrades to my armor’s tensile strength exceed your maximum force-generation capacity.”
Thank the City Mother for blunt machines. “Thank you. Sapphire, in here, now!”
“coming!” Sapphire yelled in response to Aegis’ call.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
First Sentinel
“coming!” Sapphire yelled in response to Aegis’ call.
She dodged under a lumbering metallic limb and stood with a leap, throwing an uppercut at COBALT-3. The machine ruler blocked with crossed arms. But not without cost. The Shields saw her armor give, and rallied. “Press!” Aegis called, and threw a heavy blow to COBALT-3’s midsection, not intending to do any damage; just trying to unbalance her while Sapphire continued to attack.
The Shields surrounded COBALT-3, overloaded the inputs, and split her attention so that the Freithin could break her down.
First Sentinel reached into a back pocket to make sure that the scrambler was still there, while Blurred Fists continued to press the tyrant, this time at her flank. The scrambler should deactivate COBALT-3, but only if he could attach it directly to her power source. And you’re not exactly on your form tonight, old man.
“Condescension: Previous evidence displays your team unable to overcome a standstill. Assertion: Surrender is appropriate at this juncture.”
First Sentinel laughed, and then tried to draw her attention as he closed. “Haven’t you heard? We’re crazed insurrectionists. Sense went out the window when your predecessor and your peers took this city away from the people and started playing god.”
COBALT-3 deflected Sapphire’s jabbing knee, knocking her away with a blow to the Freithin’s hip.
No longer pressed from all sides, her serpentine hands reached back and over herself to grab Blurred Fists’ hands. The tyrant pulled him up over his head as he squirmed faster than First Sentinel’s eyes could follow. A bright yellow band of fear sprouted from the Pronai’s chest, twisting like another flailing limb.
First Sentinel was frozen in place, trying to get his body to move. Pain from his leg smothered his orders, leaving him prisoner to his own vision.
Sapphire leapt at the tyrant again, but COBALT-3 caught her with another brutal kick, sending Sapphire to the ground.
Within an instant, First Sentinel saw the fight slip away from them. The action slowed to accentuate his paralysis. Fear, doubt, and pain locked him in place, helpless.
Move, dammit! With a scream, he shook off the fear and advanced. With his original cane lost on the other side of the room, First Sentinel leaned on a fighting stick, hobbling his way toward the fight.
Aegis swiped at COBALT-3 and Blurred Fists, desperately trying to help as COBALT-3 pulled at both ends of the Pronai like a doll.
An acrid spray of blood filled the air as the Pronai’s hip tore, fabric and flesh ripping as Wenlizerachi’s right leg went one way and the rest of him the other. Blood flowed up his torso and dripped from the Pronai’s face. Blurred Fists screamed paragraphs of pain in agonized Pronai.
“Get him free, now!” Aegis yelled, his voice breaking as he climbed up COBALT-3 and pulled at her grip. COBALT-3 clubbed Aegis with Blurred Fists’ leg, splattering his mask with blood. First Sentinel dragged one foot in front of another, finally in range to throw a gauntleted roundhouse at COBALT-3. She slapped it away, but rage at his friend’s injury had flushed the pain away. One hand went to his belt and found the scrambler.
This ends now. We have to get him a doctor immediately. The scrambler was grey and black; the reduced vicite core attached to a charged battery and set to neutralize the robot tyrant. The device was built with a stolen power core from COBALT-2, so First Sentinel hadn’t been sure it would even work, or how well, until COBALT-3 had confirmed that her core used the same multi-band vicite design when they’d rescued Aegis. COBALT-3 constantly modified herself, improving on her creator’s design. But he hoped the cores were close enough that his alchemical process would let the scrambler’s core cancel out the power from the other.
The Shields massed on COBALT-3 while Blurred Fists cried one long drawn-out meaningless word. First Sentinel’s thumb found the blue button on the scrambler.
City Mother, guide my hand.
COBALT-3 tossed Blurred Fists at Sapphire. In the same moment, First Sentinel dropped under the swinging arm to plant the scrambler on the underside of the tyrant’s power unit. The scrambler whirred to life, and flashed bright blue. A sucking sound reverberated off the walls and COBALT-3 froze in place, head quirked to the side in surprise.
Aegis called the retreat, his voice pained. “Sabreslate, get them out of here, now. Sapphire, Ghost Hands, keep the big ones away from the civilians. First Sentinel, escort on the civilians. I’ll get Blurred Fists.”
First Sentinel crossed the room, watching over his shoulder. COBALT-3 could snap back to life at any moment. The Shields could get the subjects out, their objective achieved, but it might cost them one of their lives.
Aegis draped Blurred Fists over his shoulders and made for the door. First Sentinel picked up the errant leg and carried it out. His own leg screamed in solidarity with Blurred Fists, fear overriding the adrenaline and inviting the pain back in. As they reach the door, COBALT-3 started to twitch back to life.
Sapphire held the rear, occupying another giant automata, and First Sentinel ducked around the corner to another hallway. The Shields rushed down the hall, pushing the civilians through the rest of the building. Even while holding Blurred Fists, Aegis annihilated the errant guards they met along the way. A black thread of guilt was wrapped tight around his heart, extending to the fading Pronai. The thread matched First Sentinel’s own, just as strong.
A minute later, the Shields broke the threshold of the building and reached the street.
Aegis huffed as he gave orders. “Ghost Hands, Sabreslate, and First Sentinel, take the civilians to a safe
distance. Sapphire and I will get Blurred Fists to a doctor. Scatter, now!”
First Sentinel squeezed Sapphire’s arm, furious he wasn’t in any condition to go with them. “City Mother be with you.”
Sapphire nodded, and then started into a flat run.
I won’t sleep, not tonight. I’m not sure any of us will. Except for the one of us who might never wake up.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Sapphire
Sapphire tore down the streets, each bound the size of three Ikanollo paces. Dr. Acci was miles away, and Blurred Fists was losing blood fast. He doesn’t have much time, Sapphire admitted, her heart aching with her friend’s pain.
Blurred Fists had collapsed from the shock. It’ll be a miracle if he’s still alive when we reach the doctor.
Sapphire and Aegis stopped in an alley where Sapphire tore the leg off her raiment to make a tourniquet. It would only do so much good with the artery bleeding out at Pronai speed.
Aegis looked up to Sapphire, tears welling in his eyes. “Take him and run as fast as you can. I’ll try to keep up. Don’t stop for anyone or anything. Just get him to Dr. Acci.”
Sapphire nodded and took Blurred Fists up in her arms again. Head down, she kicked off sprinting down the street.
The streets were nearly empty, a local curfew keeping people in their homes. The street-lamps rushed by on both sides, shadows moving from every direction, but Sapphire didn’t stop. She was throwing his life and hers into the air, there could be patrols around any corner between here and hook’s hole. Ghost Hands or Sabreslate might be able to move faster, but they’d have to soar through the open sky and be even more exposed to COBALT-3’s flying automata sentries or Yema’s Bull Mosquitos. And going through the ground with Sabreslate was out, due to the strain it put on the body.
Which means it comes down to me. The tourniquet seeped onto her raiment, all the jostling and motion exacerbating his condition.
He wouldn’t make it all the way to Acci’s. Is there somewhere closer, a hospital or clinic? She wracked her brain as she ran, trying to jog her memory by looking at the store signs and street posts. The nearest hospital not run wholly by COBALT-3 was fifty blocks east, and even their local security was in COBALT-3’s pocket. The free clinic on 111th and Heart Meridian closed down two months ago when Dr. Ustin was arrested for practicing without “official sanction,” having refused to pay the bribes.
Nothing. She kept running; saw a gang down the block huddled under a lamp with a broken glass case. She dashed right by them and hoped they don’t pursue. Even if they did, they’d meet Aegis first, and City Mother protect them if that happened.
The tourniquet had soaked through already, and Blurred Fists’ body was getting rigid. Not enough time, there just isn’t enough time. If it were anyone else, maybe. But now the fastest Pronai the city has ever seen was dying just as quickly.
Sapphire stopped, planted both feet in the cobblestone street, and filled her lungs. “I need a doctor! The Shields of Audec-Hal need your help! Can anyone hear me, I need a doctor!”
Windows were closed, doors shut, and the only reaction she got was an odd stare from a homeless man pushing a cart filled with mottled bags.
She started running again, continuing her call. “Doctor, I need a doctor! Help, anyone!” every block, she shouted again, desperation giving way to futile obstinacy as Blurred Fists’ life slipped away.
Three blocks later, she felt the echo in her heart that came from his closeness vanish. The sinking feeling in her gut that she had been sharing disappeared, leaving a gaping emptiness. Please, no.
Wenlizerachi was gone, his life given for the dream of a free city he’d never known and would never get to see.
Aegis caught up with her, tears in his eyes. Just as she felt him with her birthright, he could see the Pronai with his own, watch Blurred Fists’ threads cut. Aegis put an arm on her shoulder and embraced the lifeless form of their friend.
Years of memories washed over her in an icy wave of loss. She remembered meeting a young Wenlizerachi as she helped run errands for his mother Zeraneyachi. She remembered when Zeraneyachi had died and her son took up the mantle. She remembered hundreds of battles and meetings and his ready smile and easy laugh. All of it gone in an instant.
Sapphire dropped to the cobblestones, Aegis with her. For a minute, they were a shrunken island of grief in the gargantuan city. Between choked-back tears, Aegis said, “we need to get off of the street. Before the guards come.”
Six Shields had gone out that night, but only five would see the dawn.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
First Sentinel
Wonlar chewed up the floor at Douk’s, strides too long for his still-tender leg as his cane clicked on the ground, but he didn’t stop, pushing through on anger and grief. He walked as if maybe he paced fast enough, Wenlizerachi wouldn’t be dead.
He wouldn’t have another life on his conscience, another friend to bury, another victim in the war that’d swallowed Wonlar’s whole life for so long he barely remembered what it was like to just be a person.
The only two lights on in the basement were the lamps hung at head-level either side of the stairway door. First Sentinel pulled the shadows along with him, silhouettes pacing the room just ahead and behind. They matched his worry, but he didn’t care for their company.
I should be sleeping, resting my wounds and making sure I’m functional in the morning. he tried several times, lying down on the cot which was almost his death bed and had been a prison for longer than he usually spent making a new piece of armor.
The sounds of creaking wood told him that he was not alone. The low pitch of the creaks told him it was Rova. Either that or I’m in for a fight.
Rova’s knock settled the uncertainty. A blue hand pushed back the door. She was dressed in a plain grey tunic and leggings. Night clothes from the look of them, the rumple, and the wearing of the thread.
“I heard you tromping around down here. Why are you still awake?”
Wonlar raised an eyebrow. He didn’t think that Freithin empathy would pull her out of bed by the force of his worry.
She continued. “This close, I can’t help but feel it.”
“Sorry.” I can’t get anything right today. Maybe this is it: I’ve finally lost my edge. The time’s come to put away the raiment or pass it on to someone else. Hell of a time for it.
Wonlar shook his head, and then looked up to Rova. She was strong as ever, but tired, the fatigue gaining ground at the corner of her eyes. We can’t keep going like this. I’m still thinking too small.
They were tired, beaten, and bereaved, and the tyrants were on the verge of consolidating. He needed the others to step up, more than they already had. They had to carry him, now.
First Sentinel stood up straight, pushing into the ground with his cane. That’s it.
“We might never get another moment to strike. Nevri’s dead, Dlella hasn’t fully settled in, and their forces will be out of position. Rova, at tomorrow’s meeting, I want to hear ideas about how to pull forces from the temple tower.” a thin thread of white hope sprang from her chest, tentative, like a mouse peeking its nose out into the room checking for danger.
“The tower? That again?” it all came back to the City Mother, captive soul of the city.
Wonlar returned to pacing, his mind turning. “Yes. The six … five of us can’t change the fate of a whole city by ourselves. I’ve been trying to win the war by skirmishing for fifty years, step by step, and it costs every step of the way. We owe it to Wenlizerachi and the others to bring this to an end.”
Rova took a seat on a packed crate of coffee beans, one of the only things in the basement stable enough to support her.
“To win, we need the people on our side, and that means breaking the hold on the City Mother.” Wonlar stopped beside Rova, put a hand to her knee. “Go back to bed; I need you rested and ready.”
She placed a hand over his and gave a gentle squeeze. Wonlar slid
to the side and made room for Rova to hop off the crate and work her way to the stairs.
The aging Shield paced a bit longer before settling down to sleep, stirring the soup of thoughts before letting his mind simmer overnight. Planning kept the ghosts at bay, ensuring the voices in his mind offered suggestions instead of tearing him apart with guilt.
At my age, there are enough ghosts in my mind that I need them helping me almost as much as I need Selweh by my side.
* * *
Finally, morning came. Dounmo tea in hand, Wonlar greeted the sun as it spilled its light down the cliff’s edge and into the city. The smell of darkside mint mixed with baking dough, and Wonlar soaked up the moment.
This was the calm before the end, with all the clarity that brought with it. No matter how long and hard the night, the dawn would always come to wash away the darkness.
Selweh joined him in watching the sunrise. They talked as father and son, talked about the people passing by, how Selweh missed their old apartment, where he had gathered the neighborhood children to play Shields and tyrants in the street and then they’d all eat Douk’s sweets afterwards. They talked about everything but Wenlizerachi, but everything ended up being about him anyways. He wants to claim the guilt because it was his mission, but I could have stopped her. I was right there.
The Shields took the back room after Xera finished the breads. They made war plans over fresh bread and jams. Sweet smells and sumptuous tastes balanced the grim severity of their mission. But even the tyrants couldn’t sour the taste of a piping hot loaf.
“I want to reopen discussion of taking the tower,” Wonlar said to start the meeting. He saw no need to talk about what happened last night. He knew they’d fight over the blame, tear at one another and get themselves knotted up in their threads.
Sarii rolled her eyes, and her stone plaything took the form of a bored cat, pacing in a circle and laying down. “We’re not in a position to take the tower, especially not after last night.”
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