by B. V. Larson
“Are those bright lights the Faustian Chain?” Lizett asked.
“Yes,” Sixty-Two said in a hushed voice. “What do you think of them, Lizett?”
“They are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I feel the same.”
Sixty-Two marched onward, tilting his orbs up frequently at the starlit sky. Perhaps, he thought, his experiments in freeing the minds of mechs had not been in vain. At least Lizett was able to appreciate a starry night when she saw it. Would it have been better to be happier, but oblivious to nature’s wonders? He wasn’t sure, but the stars and Lizett’s companionship heartened him nonetheless.
He glanced over at the skald, who now stood erect in the skin sack and hugged Lizett’s heat-sinks. Another oddity in his company. This man was stranger than anyone he’d ever encountered. He seemed both fearless and timid at once. Could he really have an alien in his skull, or was he simply addled? Time would tell, he supposed. Sixty-Two made a mental note: in the event of the skald’s death, he would open that skull and have a look at the contents for himself.
#
Nina trailed the mech army to the shores of a dark, nameless lake. She didn’t like it here. Twilight was an alien place when one came very close to Nightside. There was still life in abundance—but it was strange, twisted life. Creatures adapted to permanent cold were rarely beautiful, pleasant beings. There were fields of spiny predators that resembled sea anemones. They could be found with increasing frequency on the ground, hiding among the fungus. They were deadly to a human with an unprotected foot. Camouflaged to look like a normal fungal growth, their toxic spines would paralyze a warm-blooded creature that dared touch them. Then, over a period of hours, the spiny little devils would cluster on the living victim and suck away every drop of hot blood with leach-like mouths they had at the base of their bodies.
She glided on her mount over the lake, causing silver furls of water to spread behind her. The leather-wings on the far side were stirred up, she saw. They were too smart to fall prey to the spiny leeches, but they were skittish anyway. She snapped on a saddle lamp and examined the dark ground. A thousand slushy imprints told the tale.
“They crossed here?” Old Hans asked, pulling up alongside her.
“So it would appear.”
“Can we be sure they all left the lake, Baroness? Some of the machines could still be hiding down there. Perhaps they plan to rise up and stalk us from behind.”
Nina shook her head. “I doubt it. So far, they’ve stayed tightly grouped. I doubt they even realize we’re in pursuit. No. They are driving hard—but where are they headed?”
The question had troubled her increasingly as she continued her march after the mechs. She also worried she would lose them in the wilds of Nightside. They may well slip away from her entirely before she could gather sufficient forces to make an attack. It was frustrating.
Later they made camp. She’d ordered everyone to change into their thermal suits for travel in the bitter cold that lie ahead.
Studying maps in her sealed tent, she received a buzzing summons from Lavender City. Her eyes slid to the ID code. Her lips twisted. It was Duchess Embrak herself, who ruled the rich duchy that included one of the greatest cities on the planet.
Nina took a deep breath, reconfigured her face into a stern, competent expression that befitted a military commander, and answered the call. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“I have granted your request for support troops, Nina.”
Nina stiffened at the informal use of her first name. When not in front of the council, the Duchess had repeatedly ignored her title. Nina felt it was a subtle insult, meant to indicate she was still a mere child. Still, she was glad to hear her requests had not fallen on deaf ears. She had called for her home army back at Droad House, but they had not yet arrived. The Lavender City reserves were much closer.
“Excellent, Embrak,” Nina said, purposefully dropping the Duchess’ title. She did not quite dare use the Duchess’ first name—which was Beatrice. Nina knew the woman wasn’t fond of her name, and would take its use as a direct affront. Nina wanted her offhand reference to be a subtle insult.
The Duchess’ brow grew stormy. “My title is Duchess.”
“Have you taken offense? I’m so sorry, I mistook your familiar speech for an invitation to drop formalities.”
The Duchess formed her face into a tight grimace. “I shall let it pass. The troops are my own. They will be coming with a new commander—one who I believe is familiar to you.”
“Who might that be?”
“Aldo Moreno. He will be in command of my troops. I’ve commissioned him in the service of my duchy.”
Nina’s mouth sagged open. She snapped it shut again, so as not to look the fool. “I—I don’t understand, Duchess.”
“Duchess again, is it? Very well, I shall explain: he has combat experience. He is a Nexus representative. He was once associated with your father. I’ve selected him to command my troops on this basis.”
“Who shall be in overall command of the mission?”
“It will be a joint venture between the two of you. Did you think I would place my personal army completely at your disposal? I’m not quite as taken with you as the rest of the council. You are young, inexperienced and I find you to be—overreaching.”
Nina fought to control her expression. She swallowed hard, and when she spoke again, her voice cracked slightly. “The Ruling Council has ordained me as—”
“The Ruling Council has no jurisdiction under these circumstances. These troops are my own, the defenders of my duchy. I’m free to choose my own commander.”
“In that case, I must refuse your aid.”
The Duchess’ eyebrows shot high in mock surprise. “Really? You will take on the mechs with your one hundred knights alone, then?”
“No. I will await the arrival of my full forces from Droad House. We will lose a day or two, but the mechs will not escape in that time.”
“Ah, I have another point to pass on in that case: the army is to remain on station at Droad House. With the invasion of the system imminent, we can’t afford to have the army roaming Nightside and out of reach. They must be ready to move within Twilight for defensive purposes.”
Nina didn’t know what to say. She’d been set up. She thought about resigning on the spot, telling the Duchess she could keep her troops and Aldo both—but she didn’t. She didn’t want to see the mechs escape her again. She thought of Leon, and how they had killed him. She nodded at last, deciding to endure these insults for now. She had no choice if she wanted to stop the mechs from vanishing into Nightside.
“I will accept your terms, under protest.”
The Duchess nodded, unsurprised. “Very well. Report your progress within the ten-day.”
Nina murmured her agreement. Both women reached out to break the connection as quickly as possible.
Flopping back in her chair, Nina cursed for a full minute.
The slippery Aldo Moreno. How had he managed to maneuver his way into a command position under the Duchess so quickly? Nina had a very good idea what the answer to that question was—and it made her furious.
Twenty
Sixty-Two had managed to reach the border regions of Nightside, but his relief was short-lived. He ordered his group to halt and reorganize, sending out scouts in every direction. The scouts that backtracked in the direction they had recently come from returned with highly disturbing news.
“Lizett, they follow us. We did not slip through Twilight unseen.”
The skald popped up from the skin sack where he resided still on Lizett’s broad back. “We are pursued?”
“Yes,” Sixty-Two said.
“That’s awful,” Lizett said. “Must we kill them all now?”
Sixty-Two thought about it. “There do not seem to be many of them. They are following us at a distance. I would think that means they are waiting for a future moment to attack. We are either running into their greater
force, or they are waiting for more troops to catch up. In either case, our relative strength is at an excellent ratio now.”
“We should forget about those behind us and press ahead,” the skald urged.
Sixty-Two flicked his orbs to the odd man. Not for the first time, he wondered why he’d tolerated his presence for so long. Perhaps it was because he was interesting. After working with half-bright mechs for so long, a real mysterious human was stimulating.
“Why do you care where we go, Ornth?” Sixty-Two asked the man in the sack.
“There is a lost place, not far from here.”
“Farther out—you mean deeper into Nightside?”
“Yes.”
“And you want us to take you there? You can’t survive the central region of Nightside, you know. Your lungs will freeze when you take in a breath.”
“We don’t have to go that far.”
“And what do you expect to find?”
“That which has been forgotten.”
Sixty-Two shook his head in bemusement. As he watched, Lizett absently fed the man bits of edible fungus she’d brought along from Twilight for the purpose of his sustenance. The human was wrapped in cloth now, covering most of his face except for those odd, piercing eyes. Lizett had picked up scraps and oddments for her pet on her own initiative. He’d even seen her methodically clean filth from the sack with her grippers.
“We’re going to attack,” he said at last, coming to a decision. “I’ll relay the command to my captains. We’ll turn on these men who follow us, and ambush them. It is unfortunate, but I really don’t see that we have any other choice.”
Lizett didn’t argue with his decision. The man riding on her back likewise said nothing. He only nibbled bits of fungus and stared at Sixty-Two with strange, burning eyes.
#
Nina was aroused by a heavy hand on her shoulder. She lurched awake and half-drew her power-sword before she recognized who it was.
“Hans? What’s wrong?” she demanded in a whisper.
“The mechs, milady,” he said quietly. “We’ve spotted one of their scouts.”
She climbed to her feet and pulled her on clothes. Hans tried not to look at her bare form, but she didn’t care if he did. A commander in the field couldn’t afford to worry about such things.
“How close?”
“Close enough to count our numbers.”
“Who saw the enemy?”
“I did, milady.”
She looked at him. “Why didn’t you fire? Couldn’t you have brought it down?”
“Probably not. But I didn’t want to try in any case. The mechs have built-in radio. There is virtually zero chance to destroy one before it reports to base.”
Nina nodded. “Of course. You did the right thing. Now, they don’t know we saw them. This does little to change things, however. They will come back in strength soon.”
Old Hans hesitated. “You think they will attack?”
“Yes. Immediately.”
“Why are you so certain? After all these days of running, I’d thought perhaps—”
Nina shook her head. “I’ve come to know this mech who apes a man and leads the rebellion. He thinks in a manner similar to us. And he does think, never doubt it. He has a cunning mind, fully-functional inside a mech’s body. He’ll attack because we are weak now, and we are trailing him, threatening him.”
“I’ll sound the alarm, Baroness. Every man will stand at arms.”
Hans lifted a signal whistle to his mouth. Nina’s quick hand stopped him.
“You will do no such thing,” she said. “We are going to run, not fight.”
The old knight nodded, relieved. He did not question her bravery. Fighting a thousand mechs with a hundred men was not brave—it was suicide.
They broke camp as quickly as possible, leaving behind much of their equipment in the process. There was no time to pack and store it. They simply mounted up with whatever they could carry, and less than ten minutes later the camp was deserted.
Fleeing southward on their buzzing mounts, they felt the freezing winds buffeting their insulated suits and their panting breath steamed their goggles.
Nina felt like a coward, but she told herself sternly it was better to win a fight than it was to stand and die hopelessly. Still, fleeing in the face of the mech that she’d so wanted to destroy for months was hard on her. She hoped never to have to do so again.
#
Less than half an hour later, Sixty-Two stood in the midst of the human encampment. He walked from tent to tent, but found nothing of great interest. He did learn the name of his pursuer: Baroness Nina Droad.
This did nothing to comfort him. He’d monitored her rise through the nobility of late via the net. The Ruling Council of Lords seemed to favor her. On Ignis Glace, such favor was worth much. They’d given her an army and a purpose: to hunt down and exterminate Sixty-Two and his rebel gang of treacherous mechs. At least, that was how the online articles described the situation.
Lizett approached him as he stood in her command tent, examining what few documents and bits of equipment they’d left behind.
“This place is great!” she said.
He swung his orbs to her in surprise. “What is so enviable about it?”
Lizett showed him the man she’d kept riding upon her back for so long. He was no longer imprisoned in a skin sack. Now, he stood beside her in a dark suit of insulated material. Frosted goggles clung to his face, and he began picking up articles in the tent, examining each as if it were an alien artifact.
“See? I’ve found spare clothes and foodstuffs. Ornth surely won’t die now. Doesn’t he look splendid in a man’s suit?”
“He is a man.”
Lizett pouted. “He doesn’t think so. I don’t think so, either.”
“Listen, Lizett,” Sixty-Two began hesitantly. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Ornth. I think it may be best we leave him here. The humans will return, and as he is a civilian, they will no doubt care for him.”
Lizett stopped fussing over Ornth and turned her full attention to Sixty-Two. “What? You can’t do that! He’s mine. They’ll know we left him, and they’ll kill him for sure.”
Sixty-Two shook his head. “I doubt that. He seems very adept at survival.”
“They will return soon,” Ornth said, speaking up for the first time.
“What do you know of the matter?”
“They will come, in great numbers. They will come to destroy your forces. Insanity, really. In the very face of an enemy greater than any of you—your absurd species still insists on mutual destruction.”
“How do you know this?” Sixty-Two demanded.
For an answer, Ornth opened a computer scroll and stretched it out. “The signal has been disconnected, of course. But by working with the cached files, I was able to display the last thing the enemy commander was looking at.”
The screen displayed a disposition of forces. Three major groups were prominent. One was the small group Baroness Droad personally commanded. A much larger unit sat at Droad House. A third large contingent, however, was very close to their position and appeared to be moving to join up with the Baroness.
“You see?” Ornth asked. “They’ve pulled back in order to group with a larger force.”
Sixty-Two studied the evidence with growing apprehension. “What do you suggest we do then?”
“March deeper into Nightside.”
“What lies there for us? Will they not pursue?”
“I’m not sure. What I know is unknown. What I—”
“Don’t even try to tell me some nonsense about unknowable wonders,” Sixty-Two interrupted angrily. “Just tell me why I should listen to you and march into the cold and dark.”
“There should be a place—a sanctuary. You can hide there.”
“A sanctuary? Out in Nightside? There are no major structures that I know of.”
“It is not a structure, exactly. There is an entrance to an underground
region.”
“Ah,” Sixty-Two said. “Now, we are getting somewhere. What is in this cave you describe? And how do you know about it?”
“I’m not sure what will be there, as I’ve said. Records are vague on those issues.”
“Records? What kind of records do you have? Files, images?”
“Neither,” Ornth said, smiling with half his face. “Nothing like that. My people keep our records entirely within our minds. When we commune with others of our own species, we do it very thoroughly, in effect downloading our experiences to one another over an intense period. It was from another of my kind I learned of this sanctuary. But the records—the memories, as you would call them—are hazy. They have been relayed several times over many centuries.”
Sixty-Two snorted loudly. “You expect me to march to a place that you have only a ghostly memory of? The memory from another of your supposed kind that is centuries old?”
Ornth made a sweeping gesture, indicating the computer scroll and all that was depicted upon it. “You have clear choices.”
Sixty-Two fell silent. He did not like any of the choices he could identify. He could fight the human forces, but even if he won his army would surely be decimated. He could flee into the dark in a random direction, hoping to elude them. Or he could follow the mad mind of this person, who claimed to be something more alien than any mech.
By the time he’d made his choice, Ornth was already riding comfortably again in Lizett’s sack. Sixty-Two found this mildly annoying. How had they both felt so sure which option he would choose?
Marching hard, he led his mechs into the silent, frozen darkness that was Nightside. Every pounding step of their metal feet crushed ancient crystalline structures, snowflakes that had fallen and lain undisturbed for centuries.