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by Phoenix Ward


  “To the ships!” Martin started shouting through the speaker in his wife’s head to no one in particular. “Everyone, fall back to the loading bay!”

  “To the loading bay!” Gauge also shouted, looking at the other rebels who fought and scurried around them. “Fall back!”

  The entourage moved like a shark through seaweed, cutting a way through the battle to the western side of the chamber. The loading bay was on the opposite side of the atrium from them, with at least five hundred feet of no man’s land to cross. Tera and the other I.I. woman remained on their flanks, firing at any Shedders or Council soldiers who got too close. Every dozen feet or so, they would stop to avoid some crumbling part of the Furnace or to fight off the attackers. Every time they stopped, the battle waged closer. The cyborg monster continued to cut through rebels — and sometimes cultists — like a reaper at harvest. Screams filled the atrium.

  Ethan felt a hand on his wrist before his brain acknowledged that he was being pulled away from the group. At first, he thought it was Tera or the other I.I. leading him to safety, but he could see all his comrades huddled together before him. He looked back and saw one of the Shedders clutching onto his wrist, a wicked grin on the assailant’s face. He clutched a dagger in his other hand, but didn’t stab at Ethan. Instead, he dragged him through the battle towards one of the tunnels in the side of the chamber.

  When he realized what was going on, he started to pull back. Without hesitation, the cultist spun around and punched Ethan in his wounded eye.

  “None of that,” the Shedder hissed. “No need to resist.”

  “There’s always a need,” a familiar voice growled from behind Ethan.

  Before he knew what was going on, a form leaped over him and tackled the Shedder to the grate. Ethan could only register a blur of pale cloth and mechanical parts as his rescuer slammed the cultist’s head into the metal floor over and over. Once the cultist realized what was happening, he tried to throw the form off him. The two of them wrestled on the ground.

  Ethan hesitated for a moment, but it was imperceptible to the naked eye. He dived forward and retrieved the dagger that had fell to the floor during the melee. With a swift jerk of his arm, he drove the blade deep into the Shedder’s chest, just to the side of his sternum. Ethan could feel the man’s breath ooze out of him like air from a deflating kickball. He stared down at the dead man for a moment, the battle that surrounded him fading from focus.

  Only a second passed before he felt a metal hand on his shoulder. He spun around with the dagger in his clutched fist to see the bodyshell of King Hum.

  “They’re running that way,” the young monarch said, pointing through the chaos at the entourage Ethan had been pried from. “Come with me.”

  He didn’t wait for the human to reply before dragging him by the shoulder. They had a relatively clear path to the others; most of the fight moved to the center of the atrium, where the rebels were fleeing to the loading bay.

  Hum kicked away one of the Council soldiers who backed up into them while in a fight of his own. Ethan tried to stab at the enemy, but stumbled as he tried to reach the falling form. Hum caught him and kept him moving towards Tera, Gauge, and the others.

  Betsy stopped and turned around as the sound of their approach came to her ears. A look of relief crossed her face.

  “There you are!” she cried. She waved at them, gesturing to keep running. “Go on! Don’t stop until you’re on the gunships!”

  As they passed the Clevingers, Ethan and Hum heard — and felt — thundering footfalls approaching them. Before they could turn and identify the source, a deafening roar filled their ears. Ethan’s eyes grew wide with terror as the cyborg monstrosity charged straight at them, barreling through Council and rebel soldiers alike. It ran like a roided-up linebacker with ten times the ferocity. Just as it was within arm’s reach of their group, it lifted its enormous blade arm until it practically scraped the ceiling.

  Betsy could only look up at the hulk and its grotesque sword before the monster brought it down on her head. Ethan and Human looked away as the old woman’s body fell to the floor in two separate clumps.

  Tera and the others turned around just as the creature roared over the Clevingers’ corpse. Anger and fright filled their eyes as those with weapons aimed at the monster. They didn’t hesitate before unloading their ammunition into the horrible giant. It screamed a little as the bullets sunk into its pale flesh, rearing back a little on its robotic spider legs, but it only seemed annoyed. It came back down on all eight legs with a thud, locking its dead eyes onto Tera and Gauge.

  It roared again before scuttling towards the rebels, its blade arm trailing behind. Tera tried to shoot at the creature, but her weapon was depleted. Before it could swipe her head off, she and everyone around her ducked out of the way.

  “We have to blow the Furnace!” Tera heard Gauge shout from beside her. He was reloading his own weapon while trying to sprint backward at the same time. A handful of rebel soldiers who were fleeing in the same direction swarmed the monster when they saw their leaders fall. They were being smote down left and right, but they still managed to cut the behemoth off from Tera and Ethan’s group.

  “But — ” Tera started to say.

  “It’s the only way! Get on the ships!”

  They kept moving. They were within a hundred feet of the loading bay. The rebel pilots were already firing up the engines and extending the loading ramps. People poured in like chum into a whale’s mouth and the attackers closed in from behind. One of the ships just managed to open its door as Gauge led Ethan, Tera, and Hum aboard. Other rebels flooded in from behind them. A scream bled in through the door and a ripple of motion worked its way through the crowd. The attackers were upon them, and people were being pushed every which way by each other as they tried to flee danger.

  The hulking monster cut its way to the ship opposite them, slicing down rebels as they fled like it was going for some sort of high score. When it reached the actual gunship, it started hacking at the aircraft’s engine while the low flames the vehicle emitted singed its flesh. With one last huge cleave, it sundered the engine and the gunship exploded.

  Ethan could feel the shockwave through the walls of his own aircraft. Panicked cries came from all around him as the other gunship crumpled to the floor, spurting flames all over the loading bay.

  The doors started to close while people were still trying to climb aboard. Tera locked eyes with a human woman just as the entrance left her out in the slaughter.

  “We have to go!” Gauge shouted up to the cockpit. “Now!”

  Ethan stumbled a little as people pushed into him, moved by the sudden shift in momentum. He felt the ship angle upward as gravity started to tug him backward. It rocked with each blast that came from the soldiers down below.

  “Come on, come on!” Gauge yelled. “We need to get out of range!”

  Tera stood still, the woman’s face still imprinted in her mind. She swayed with the force of acceleration, but didn’t look around. Ethan trembled beside her.

  “Punch it!” a shout came from the cockpit.

  “We’re not far enough yet!” Gauge yelled back.

  “Just punch it!”

  With an anxious sigh, Gauge activated some sort of control on the side of his neck. There was a moment’s pause before the loudest explosion yet shook the air they flew through.

  Ethan looked out the rear viewport just as they exited the geothermal ducts and flew out into the open air outside the city. An enormous fireball followed them out, tossing up clumps of debris as it destroyed the tunnels. He couldn’t see anyone; he couldn’t make out any of the fight below. All he could see was fire.

  “Get us outta here!” Gauge shouted to the cockpit.

  “To where?”

  “Anywhere else!”

  48

  Vigil

  They were one of only five gunships that landed in the barren field just outside of Opes. There had been eight aircraft in the F
urnace’s loading bay, but they were all that made it. The engines made a whine as they were deactivated.

  Once the doors opened and the loading ramp was extended, people started to trickle out. They had been packed like sardines, but they didn’t walk with the free air of someone glad to be outside. Instead, they shuffled into the city with broken expressions. Like they were marching out of a freezer and only just beginning the thawing process.

  King Hum walked out with Adviser Orram at his side. The linen-wrapped bodyshell stood tall and without care of the gazes that fell on him. He raised a robotic arm to block out the setting sun as he walked out into the dry Opesian air.

  “Start building camps around the city immediately,” the king spoke without breaking his stride. “Every one of these people needs a place to sleep by the end of the night. Offer double pay to anyone who gawks at the task.”

  “Yes, your grace,” Orram replied, bowing like one might nod.

  “We will be having a vigil first thing tomorrow to honor those who didn’t make it,” King Hum continued. “Make the arrangements.”

  “Of course,” Orram said. He didn’t wait for any further orders before making a brisk pace towards the city. Hum stayed back and gazed at the people walking off the ships.

  Ethan and Tera emerged together, followed shortly by Gauge. They all stopped beside the young king, who looked like a mummified pharaoh in his wrappings. They didn’t say anything — no words came to them. The people shifted around them like a river around a boulder.

  “So many people,” King Hum said in a frail tone. “So many refugees.”

  The others remained silent. King Hum sighed, then turned to them.

  “You can find shelter in the palace,” he said. “Orram will assist you. Rest. We mourn tomorrow.”

  The stars started to fade away into the violet-rose of the dawning sky. The sun hadn’t made its appearance yet.

  The mood in the city square was somber. No one chatted with their neighbor as they stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the stage where they had once watched a play performed. The platform was covered in clay lanterns, each painted in their own unique pattern. They stood about two feet tall. Aside from King Hum, they were all that stood on the stage.

  “Two-thousand, two-hundred and forty-three lanterns,” King Hum said, his voice booming out over the audience. “Two-thousand, two-hundred and forty-three souls. Four-hundred eighty-nine of those souls were fellow countryfolk; over seventeen-hundred were once strangers who risked everything to rescue me. There are no words to describe such a loss. Everyone here has been affected by this tragedy. We all have a hole in our hearts now that nothing can fill.”

  Bowed heads and tear-stained faces were all that met the king’s gaze. His face was cold, his features firm but wrought by emotion. Even though he occupied a mechanical body, he looked aged by grief. Like the polymer that made up his face was faded — rubbed soft.

  “We burn a lantern for each loved one we lost yesterday,” he said, gesturing back at the field of clay vessels. He looked back at the crowd with ferocity in his stare. “Losses incurred by the Council of Shell City and the cultists of Reverend Nidus, I might add. This was no misunderstanding. It was a deliberate and calculated attack on everything we stand for. This cannot go unanswered. Therefore, the Holy Kingdom of Opes is declaring war on our attackers.”

  A ripple of gasps came from the citizens in the audience. Ethan and Tera met the king’s fierce gaze, and he nodded to them.

  “If we do nothing, this tragedy will only mark the beginning of a long line of suffering and death,” the monarch continued. He didn’t blink as he scanned all the faces pointed up at him. “We cannot stand by while crime after crime goes unanswered. If not for the sake of our lives, then for the sake of our souls. This is our defining moment, people. This is when we decide if we will lie down and die, or stand up and fight! I for one will not go down quietly! Who’s with me?”

  The audience erupted with cheers. Every man, woman, and child bellowed out their support for the mechanical king.

  “Tomorrow, Opes goes to war,” King Hum said once the commotion died down. “Today, we honor those we’ve lost on the path to freedom. Freedom for all people. Today, we ignite the lanterns and bid our friends and family farewell as they begin their journey to join the spirit of God.”

  He turned around and nodded to Adviser Orram, who instructed his helpers to begin lighting the lanterns. Even with two dozen workers, the process took several minutes. Everyone remained silent throughout.

  Once they were all lit, Hum turned back to the audience and bowed his head. Everyone did the same.

  “Farewell,” the king said, his eyes closed. “We will be reunited one day.”

  The moment of silence that followed lasted over ten minutes. Every eye was closed shut while the lanterns burned on the stage behind Hum.

  He broke the silence by clearing his throat. He opened his eyes as others started to emulate him.

  “Though we mourn, we must remember that their spirits are everywhere around us,” King Hum said. “Though that hole in our heart feels empty, they are still there. They have joined the beautiful spirit of our dear Earth and our beloved Lord. This is a joyous thing, and therefore, a celebration is in order. Join me in a feast as we honor the memories of those we’ve lost with fondness! We will be reunited one day!”

  “We will be reunited one day!” the crowd echoed.

  Despite the end of his speech, King Hum was sullen when Ethan and Tera joined him at his table. His face seemed to lighten up a little as he saw them, but it only lasted a moment. His mechanical features fell back into numb pain as they took seats across from him.

  “I’m glad you could join me,” he said, offering them a plate each. When they waved them away, he simply set them on the table. “I know I don’t need to eat, but it still calms me.”

  “War on the Council?” Tera said, cutting to the chase.

  Hum nodded as he picked up a square of steak. “I see the error of refusing to help you,” he said. “They must be stopped.”

  “What’s the next step, then?” Ethan asked. He looked at the meat in Hum’s hand like he was reconsidering taking the plate.

  “We’ll need help,” King Hum answered. “We lost so much in the raid — we can’t possibly defeat them without allies.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Tera said. “Hopefully they won’t turn us down when we come asking for help.”

  Hum ignored the sour inflection. “The People’s Union, maybe. But not Opes. Not if we play our cards right.”

  “Then I suppose you have a plan?”

  “Yes,” the young monarch said, tossing the meat cube in his mechanical mouth and chewing. His expression grew annoyed as he realized there was no flavor to it. “We can think about our next move later — this time is for the dead.”

  49

  Envoys

  King Hum’s guards let Ethan and Tera into the throne room without so much as a word. They were summoned first thing in the morning, but it seemed that the I.I. monarch was up some time even before then.

  The throne room looked much more like a study than it had before. It was like some blind librarian took over the chamber, leaving things about on tables he brought in and abandoning them forever. Books were open with bits of paper scattered over them. King Hum stood behind his desk where his throne customarily was. He was frowning down at a map and a handful of letters stacked beside it. He didn’t look up when the two foreigners entered the room.

  King Hum had holed himself up in the palace ever since the feast ended the day before. Though he gave the eulogy in public, he still felt inclined to hide from his subjects. He wanted as few Opesians as possible to be aware of his…defect. The linen wrappings served their purpose when he was in public, but he had to restrict his movement to keep up the charade.

  Most of the citizens thought their king was wounded — badly burned — as they assumed by his bandages. They dared not pry about the circumstance of his mys
terious injury, but all assumed the Council was behind it. The tragic loss of the raid and the apparent wounds on their king sent them in a fury. Almost every adult capable of fighting was ready to march on Shell City. Still, they waited for the order from their king, sharpening their blades and practicing their skills in the meantime. The young king did nothing to dispel the rumors surrounding his appearance. In fact, it benefited him to let them think whatever they wanted to.

  Gauge sat across the desk from King Hum, sandwiched between it and another table. He was writing something in a journal, stopping every now and then to look up and think.

  Adviser Orram entered behind Tera and Ethan while they were still waiting for someone to take notice of them. He pushed them aside gently as he strode to the King. Hum looked up finally as Orram whispered something in his ears. He nodded, then made eye contact with the new pair.

  “You’re here,” he said. “Good. Then we can begin.”

  There were a pair of chairs in the corner of the room that Hum gestured to. Tera grabbed two of them and they both took their seats at the desk.

  King Hum waved his open palm over the map as if showing off a game-winning hand of cards. Everyone took note of the dotted lines and the geographic features of the map, in the middle of which was a large star labeled OPES.

  “This is the country that surrounds the kingdom,” he started, looking at each attendant as he spoke. He pointed down at the dotted lines that separated the region like cuts on a butcher’s diagram. “These are the territories of our closest neighbors. It’s these neighbors that we’ve got to win over and recruit to our side. In the west, we have the Battalion and the Republic of Orange. To the south, a tribe of installed intelligences who call themselves the Ghosts. In the north, we have Truck’s Raiders to appeal to, and to the east is the Gearhead Guild. Each of us will be tasked with recruiting one of these factions.”

 

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