She brought the knife up and adopted a fighting stance.
Ciib grappled with her. They became a tangle of fists and arms until Ciib bent her wrist back and the knife fell clattering to the floor. Rollins, Faj, and Durskie jumped in and tackled Ciib. They had him pinned until Jerrold pulled them off. Trediakovsky joined the fight, got a punch in the face for her efforts, and sank to the floor.
Sheemi stood rooted, gripped by an unfamiliar paralysis. It felt like a dream. She could barely tell anymore who was on which side.
Rollins had Jerrold in a headlock. Ciib took Rollins out of the fight with a punch to the head, then he was down himself, felled by Faj’s sweep kick. He struggled to get back up, but Durskie kicked him in the side again and again, then once more in the head, until Ciib lay still.
“This isn’t us!” Connor shouted. “We’re a team. We shouldn’t be fighting.”
“This is crazy,” Sargsyan said.
“Stay out of it,” Alvares replied.
Everything’s going to shit, Sheemi realized.
#
They restrained Mertik and Ciib as Veillon worked on their wounds.
“I’m the only one with the command code to activate the weapon,” Ciib said.
Meszaros smiled, looking smug. “Fortunately, our chine fathers provided the same code to me.”
“Shut them up in the rec mod,” Alvares said. “Veillon can finish patching them up there.”
Sheemi trailed the others, more a mob than a crew now. Were they even soldiers anymore? They’d fallen apart, she could feel it.
Rollins led the way. Ciib and Mertik were lowered to the floor of the rec mod so Veillon could work on them. Mertik had lost a lot of blood. He was deathly white. Her friend had done that. Neecie looked tired, but resolute. They traded glances. Sheemi couldn’t see a hint of doubt in those eyes. They were cold as vac.
“I’ll stay with them,” Veillon said.
Rollins nodded. “Lock them in as well.” He pointed to Jerrold and Trediakovsky. “We’ll come for them when this is done. Everyone else get to the bus. We’re about to start decel. Attack position in eight hours fifteen minutes. Now move. Move!”
“There aren’t any acceleration couches,” Sheemi said, eying the rec mod.
“They’ll survive.” Rollins gave her a dismissive look. “Now get going unless you want to join them. Birdel, you guard this hatch.” He shut it. “No one gets in or out, understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Neecie said.
Janik met them in the bus coming from the other direction, handed Ks to Rollins and Faj, then took one to Neecie. They were all prisoners one way or another. Sheemi strapped in, flipped the seat around for decel and locked it. Xin looked utterly lost, but Sheemi could think of nothing to say to comfort her.
Dauntless slowed and the high g built. Another eight hours until they were in attack position, eight hours for what had happened to bake into her thoughts. She tried to put it out of her mind—Ciib and the others locked up. It shouldn’t have happened like that. They should be all together on this, one last strike against the Hexi.
The g’s got even worse. Exhaustion overwhelmed her.
Only the rustling leaves made noise in the forest. Water seeped into her boots as she hunted, scope against cheek. Her prey came into view and she fired. She sighted another and fired again. Round after round, ears ringing, smell of burnt shells. She kept firing as they fell one by one, until she heard a familiar voice. Enough.
Sheemi woke with a start. Everything felt wrong, in her gut and bones, the queasy feeling she got whenever she’d made a terrible mistake.
Ciib was right. She’d been wrong all along. It wasn’t enough to have given up her wish for death. The hard edge of her hate had been blunted. There had been killing all around. They all shared responsibility—her, the Hexi, even the chines. Blood on everyone’s hands.
The knowledge came hard. She wasn’t a killer, not anymore. She was for life. Her life, a child’s life, any child’s. With that knowledge came a glimmer of hope it wasn’t too late.
She unlocked her harness. Gripping the seat in front of her, she fought the g’s and pulled herself to a standing position. She could see Faj’s arm holding a K in the first couch on the far end of the bus. Turning, she saw Jimmy still asleep on a couch behind hers. Tilner sat farther back, then Connor and Sargsyan. Captain Rollins was strapped into the last couch. He looked nervous, fidgeting.
She’d need help to do this. No one seemed an obvious choice. But then she turned back to look at Connor. He sat staring ahead. He looked calm but not happy. She’d been too busy to give him much thought lately. He’d changed, grown up maybe. Just like her. Can I count on you?
Sheemi breathed deep and made her way down the aisle toward Conner, pulling herself from one couch to the next. When Rollins looked at her, she nodded and kept moving. She collapsed into the couch next to Connor and let out a sigh.
Connor glanced her way.
“Crazy, huh?” he whispered. “Everyone’s gone insane.”
“What do you think?” she asked.
“About what?”
“Ciib.”
“I don’t know. Doesn’t seem right. Them beating him down, I mean. Alvares locking him and the others up.”
“He would have aborted the mission,” Sheemi said.
Conner’s gaze flicked to hers, then away. Would he think she was baiting him? That she’d betray him if he sided with Ciib? Would he betray her? Time to find out.
“Ciib knows what he’s doing,” she said. “What’s right. I didn’t. I was full of hate, but I have to let it go. I know that now.”
Connor looked into her eyes for a long time.
“Question is,” he said, “what can we do about it?”
“Getting Ciib out of lock-up would be a start,” Sheemi said.
“You may have noticed Rollins and Faj locked and loaded, right?”
“I’ll talk to Rollins about Ciib, what a good thing they did. Tell him he’s a hero. You come up and get angry at what I’m saying. Come on strong. I’ll take it from there.”
“What about Faj?”
“One thing at a time, Connor.”
“Fuck it,” he said. “Okay.”
The all-clear tone sounded, and she felt the engines power down. As the g’s diminished, she felt ease of movement returning and went to talk to Rollins. He watched her approach, tightening his grip on the K.
“What do you want, Tanamal?”
“Just wanted to say that was the right thing to do, sir.”
“What’s that, Sergeant?”
“Taking down Captain Ciib, sir. It had to be done. He’s a good man, but he failed us. Captain Alvares should have led us right from the start after Colonel Go died, or yourself, sir.”
Rollins’s eyes narrowed. “You think so?”
“What’s our status, sir?” Connor said, coming up behind Sheemi.
“Our status,” Rollins said, “is to wait for further orders.”
“How is Captain Ciib?” Connor asked.
“The major is with him, so he should be just fine, Sergeant. Sit back down. I’ll let you know when I need you.”
“Someone should check on him,” Connor insisted. “See if Major Veillon needs anything.”
“That’s my business, Sergeant. Now sit down.”
“Not until someone checks on Ciib. You all went too far.”
“We did what needed to be done,” Sheemi said scornfully, turning to face Connor.
Rollins brought up his K. “For the last time, sit down, Ridgeway.”
Faj was standing now, her K held at the ready.
“No fucking way, sir,” Connor said.
Rollins pointed his K at him. “Sit down, or I’ll put you down.”
Now, Sheemi thought. She made a grab for the K, but Rollins pulled it up out of reach. A gunshot thundered through the enclosed space.
Chapter 33 – Freak
Kinetic aimed its gun arm, and the closest melter exploded in a spray o
f white-hot metal. The scouts swarmed over Kinetic as the surviving melter reached their tower and barreled their way. In a blink, it was among them, a blur of hostile chinery.
The melter struck Kellen a glancing blow, nearly knocking him off the tower, but he got a hand down in time and hung on to the metal strip. With another arm, the melter plucked Abby off the tower.
Kinetic swung its decoupler and severed the melter’s arm as Abby drifted further up the way they’d come.
“Kellen!” Abby flailed about to no effect. “I can’t stop!”
“Abby!” he shouted, looking for a way around the melter.
The melter coiled and darted, striking at Kinetic, who parried its blows. Another strike succeeded in smashing the decoupler. Kinetic discarded the ruined weapon, reached back, and unslung its spare blade.
Hoping it was too distracted to bother with him, Kellen ran after Abby. He had to follow a chine track on a diagonal, then another back to her. He reached out, but she’d passed out of reach.
“I’m coming!” he yelled, as she drifted higher up. He knelt down, grasped the chine track, and braced himself for a leap. The melter chose that moment to charge forward, knocking Kinetic out of its way and grasping Kellen’s leg. Kellen struggled to free himself.
Chronicler opened a compartment, extracted a small device, and pointed it at the melter. Kellen thought it hadn’t noticed until one of its limbs punched into Chronicler’s some and out the back with a scattering of mechanical fragments. Chronicler froze, its gears still engaged in the chine track.
“No!” Kellen wavered, caught between the need to help both friends. He could barely see Abby now.
The melter redoubled its attack on Kinetic. Its arms shot out in a blast of twisting, coiling fury. The chains of metal wrapped Kinetic in a violent embrace. Kinetic seemed stunned as the melter drew it close.
The melter’s mouth opened wide. Kellen thought the fight was about to end, then Kinetic stirred, wedged one of its blades into the melter’s arms, and cut through the constricting chains. Kinetic pulled its gun arm free, but before it could take aim, the melter bit down on the arm, severing it. Kinetic retaliated by plunging both its blades into the melter, opening a wound so bright Kellen had to shield his eyes. A spray of fluid erupted. The melter emitted a modulated shriek as its light diminished.
Is it dead? Kellen couldn’t tell. The melter’s grasp on the tower relaxed. Its arms went slack, and both chines drifted away. Still tangled in the melter’s grasp, Kinetic turned slowly midway between the towers. Kellen stepped closer, not knowing who had won, who still lived. He leaned out to catch a hold of Kinetic but couldn’t reach that far.
“Chronicler!” Kellen called. The chine remained in the chine track where it had been struck. “Chronicler, can you hear me?”
“Yes.” Its voice seemed lethargic.
How badly is it damaged? What if it runs out of power? What if we all do? “I can’t reach Kinetic, and Abby’s gone.” He felt a flash of fear in saying her name.
Chronicler moved down the chine track in little jerks, damaged parts whining in protest, until it was close enough to wrap one of its manipulators around Kellen’s hand. “Kinetic first. Let go of the tower.”
Kellen obeyed, and Chronicler pulled him off into the intervening vacuum. Kellen kept a firm grip on Chronicler’s manipulator as he moved toward the drifting chines.
“Kinetic?” When it failed to respond, Kellen reached out and caught hold of its nearest blade, still embedded in the melter, taking care not to touch the cutting edge.
Chronicler managed to pull them all back in. They drew Kinetic’s blades free from the melter’s ruined corpse, untangled Kinetic from its arms, and pushed it away. Kinetic’s gun arm was missing, only a bubbled metal stump left. Its torso below the sensor cluster had caved in and cracked.
Chronicler touched one of Kinetic’s arms. “My friend.”
“Is it…”
“Yes. Kinetic is dead.”
Despite having survived, Chronicler didn’t look well. The melter had punctured Chronicler’s some, leaving a hole below its left arm. Fluid pooled there, droplets slowly spinning away whenever the chine moved. Chronicler’s eyes seemed to dim.
“We've got to get you out of here,” Kellen said. “Back to the ship. And I’ve got to find Abby.”
Chronicler grasped Kellen’s arm hard. “No. I will find her. Don’t forget our purpose in coming here. You’ve got to go on. Find the trigger, activate the orbital. Unless you do, all our efforts will have been for nothing.”
Kellen looked at Kinetic, then at Chronicler. One friend dead, another wounded, and Abby missing. The last thing he wanted was to leave them. He felt like a traitor and a coward, but logically, he knew Chronicler was right. Is this me thinking like a machine? Or like a human?
“You’d better go now,” Chronicler said. “More Precautionists may arrive at any moment. There’s a gate somewhere on this orbital, and they’ll use it to send new troops.”
“But Abby…”
“I’ll find her.”
“How? You can barely move.”
“I’ll think of something. Now go. Go while you still have a chance.”
#
Kellen crept along a metal strip, keeping a hand down at all times. He made sure to glance in all directions every few seconds. He wouldn’t survive another ambush.
He made steady progress toward the base of the tower where it connected to the hub. As he approached, openings became apparent at intervals around the tower’s base between where the stacked discs ended and the hub began. The openings bled red light, the source of the ambient illumination. The strip ran over the edge of the last disc and under to the narrowed stem of the tower’s base.
Kellen sent himself drifting down to the hub. The nearest opening was five meters high and two wide, and revealed a view of the inner machinery. Kellen circled the tower’s stem and counted three more openings, none of them marked. He picked one and pulled himself inside.
Mechanical components looped and twisted together through the tower and down into the hub, like organs in some animal’s belly. Metal pipes, cables, and wire braids. Layers of cooling fins, hot to the touch. All wound about a central element running down the axis of the tower, a dully reflective metal shaft, like polished aluminum. He thought it must be one of the power conduits Chronicler had mentioned as connecting an outer energy receiver to this tower, then on to the condenser below.
Picking his way through the narrow spaces afforded by the machinery, Kellen made his way down into the hub. The light increased as he went, giving him confidence he was going in the right direction. Using his hands and feet to ward off collisions with sharp edges, he wended his way deeper until he reached an opening where the power conduit emerged into an empty space resembling the inside of a wheel—the inner hub, he hoped, where the condenser should be. He hung there, one hand keeping him from drifting further in.
The power conduit extended past him into the inner hub like the spoke of a wheel. Where it passed into the inner hub, its shiny surface ended at a coupling, transitioning into a dull black metal that seemed to drink in incident light. Other power conduits emerged all along the hub in either direction, all converging at the hub’s center, where from a circular base a pillar of interlaced, silvery hexagonals spanned from one of the hub’s flat, circular faces to the other, where Kellen guessed it passed beyond into space. It had to be the antenna he’d seen as they’d come over the orbital’s outer edge. Luminous stripes around the base of the pillar delivered the murky red light.
Kellen felt the repeating electrical buzz, now stronger than ever. He’d almost stopped paying attention to it, but here it was accompanied by the now-familiar tug of a magnetic field gaining strength. He tried to pull himself away back inside the tower. A piece of metal debris skittered forward, then he was pulled after it, slipping and sliding and struggling to catch a hold. He failed, flew toward the power conduit, and smacked into it.
He strug
gled, feeling terrified and foolish, but the field held him there, helpless to escape. After several minutes, the electrical buzz began to fade and with it the magnetic field. When the field weakened sufficiently, he freed himself and pushed away.
His initial instinct was to retreat, but perhaps some of Abby’s mechanical inquisitiveness had rubbed off on him. I’ll experiment, he decided.
He found another piece of metal debris the size of a pea. When the electrical buzz returned, he pushed the piece ahead. It drifted, then accelerated and impacted the power conduit. After several minutes, it moved slightly, then floated free. He waited, and again, after several more minutes, the field reasserted itself, each time coincident with the electrical buzz. They were linked.
The observation reminded him of waves pulling a piece of driftwood down the beach, only to lift it back up again and again. He waited for the field to resume and approached carefully. Using more metal pieces, he delineated the edge of the field, where the force would be too weak to capture him. Equipped with this knowledge, he moved deeper into the inner hub.
He completed a full revolution, weaving between the power conduits, skirting magnetic fields as they waxed and waned, without finding anything out of the ordinary. Maybe Abby was wrong about the trigger being at the center, he mused, staving off a growing frustration. He decided to search elsewhere and made his way back the way he’d come. The orbital was immense. The trigger, whatever it was, could be anywhere.
He pushed out of the tower stem back into the larger space containing the towers themselves and felt a spike of uneasiness, the same feeling he’d had entering Gatherer’s lair. He caught himself and pulled back into the shelter of the stem. Peeking out of the opening, at first he saw nothing, then noticed a shape flattened against the next tower, a blotch of grayness. Some kind of chine had stationed itself there, vigilant. He pondered options. None seemed good until he remembered the magnetic field. How it had pulled him in, how helpless he’d been.
It might work. He waited until the buzz came and went again. As soon as he felt it end, he exited the opening and moved around to attract the chine’s attention. How smart is it? He had no idea.
The Farthest City Page 29